Summerhills (Ayrton Family Book 2)
Page 25
“Gerry was third,” said Connie who naturally enough had been watching her own child. “He would have been second if that other boy hadn’t upset him.”
“How is Gerry getting on?” asked Gerry’s father.
Arnold hesitated for a moment and then replied, “Well, if you really want to know, I’m hoping that in time young Gerry Lambert will become fairly tolerable. I’ve thrashed him twice and it’s done him a lot of good.”
There was a breathless silence.
“Take him away if you like,” added Arnold smiling.
“Take him away!”
“Yes, if you don’t approve of my methods.”
“Oh dear,” exclaimed Connie. “It seems—dreadful, but perhaps—perhaps if you don’t do it too hard . . .”
Young Gerry’s other relations breathed again. It was a pleasant thought that in time he might become “fairly tolerable” and there was a firmness behind the smile of his headmaster which told of an intention to deal with him faithfully.
Roger did not ask for news of his son; there was no need, for he had received several letters from Arnold since the beginning of the term saying that Stephen was well and happy. He had also received a letter from Stephen which corroborated the headmaster’s report. Roger had smiled over Stephen’s letter and had put it away safely amongst his private papers. Someday, in the distant future, Stephen would smile over it himself:
Dear Daddy
School is nice. Lumsden has a meddle like you. It is the D.C.M. He has a fawlse hand but he can do things with it. I am being a pebbel on the beech like you said. Cartwright is my speshal friend. He is super. He is coming to tea at Amberwell on Sunday. Aunt Nell said I could. It is a pitty you cant come to the sports.
Your loving
Stephen.
There was no need to worry about Stephen, he was “being a pebbel on the beech” and liking it. Later Roger would have a talk with his headmaster, but it would be a private talk. He did not intend to discuss his son in front of all his friends and relations.
The boys were jumping now, and as this was not so interesting to the spectators a babble of conversation had broken out. Roger took advantage of the chatter to speak quietly to his wife.
“You’re feeling, sad, Mary,” he said in a low voice.
“Perhaps—just a tiny bit,” she admitted.
“We shouldn’t have come.”
“No, Roger, that’s silly! I’m glad we came. It’s just that I can’t help thinking of the old days.”
“I know.”
“But we shouldn’t,” declared Mary. “It’s no good thinking about the past. The old days have gone—Stark Place has gone. Summerhills is looking ahead to the future—all those little boys growing up into men!”
“In these beautiful surroundings,” put in Roger. “They’ll remember Summerhills all their lives.”
Mary nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, and it belongs to us, Roger. Summerhills belongs to you and me—your vision and my dear old home! I think we’ve made something valuable and—and lasting, something really worth while.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been thinking,” said Roger gravely. “Summerhills is a good thing for us to have made.”
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