CHAPTER 14
Eldred decided to talk to his parents about Mr Austin keeping the computer disk. They could not always be relied on to be parental but maybe in this case they would take his side.
His mother greeted his return from school with a broad smile and a big hug. She had also had her hair done and was wearing her best polyester two-piece.
‘What's wrong?’ asked Eldred.
‘Nothing's wrong,’ she whispered. 'There's a reporter in the living room. From the local newspaper.’
Eldred's hopes rose. Terry Smith had kept his promise.
‘Does he want to talk to me about the reprocessing plant?’ he asked.
‘She. It's a young girl. She's been asking me questions about you half the afternoon.’
‘But you don't know about the plant,’ said Eldred unwisely.
Mildred flushed. ‘I know about my own son, don't I? Who better to tell the paper about you? And it's difficult to interview children, so Susan said. Susan Bourne, she's called. Lovely girl. Only lived in this area two years; she's working her way up to a job on one of the nationals. Brush your hair before you go in and say hello, Eldred. I'm just making Susan another cup of tea.’
Eldred ran his fingers through his hair and went into the sitting room, trailing his school bag. Hope died as soon as he saw the girl. Every inch of her had been carefully clothed, in fishnet tights, short skirt, low-cut top, boots, make-up, earrings, hair dye, and a wide expanse of bright smile. This person was fully covered against being affected by others.
‘Hi! Eldred, isn't it?’ she greeted his arrival. ‘Your mother's been explaining to me about your name: called after both your parents, Edgar and Mildred, because you're the only child and they didn't expect to have any more after you, isn't that right?’
Eldred sank into a chair and searched her face for some sign of life. The bright mask smiled more widely.
‘Nothing to say for yourself? You can't be shy, a clever boy like you! Your mother's been showing me some of your work.’
‘Where did she get it?’ asked Eldred.
‘Didn't you know? She's got folders of everything you ever did, the first picture you drew, all your school exercise books full of little sums, the birthday cards you made her with poems written by you ...’
Eldred cringed. ‘Those are baby things,’ he said. 'The real work is all on my computer hard drive.’
‘I've phoned your father at work, Eldred,’ said Mildred, coming in with a tray of tea, 'and he's going to try and come home a bit early, as it's a special occasion. One sugar, isn't it, Susan? See, Eldred, we've been getting to know one another this afternoon. Susan and I have been getting on famously.’
Eldred shot Susan a sharp glance. She met it and looked away. The woman's a fool, her eyes said, and I'm bored with this. Eldred's eyes threatened: make fun of my mum and I'll know about it.
‘Mr Austin from your high school was on the phone to me this morning,’ Mildred told Eldred. ‘He rang to say he thought I'd like to know he had permission from the Head to bring you into his computer class. With fourteen and fifteen year olds,’ she told Susan, 'and Eldred's only just nine!’
‘You told me,’ said Susan. ‘Amazing.’
‘Did he say anything to you about it, Eldred?’ Mildred asked.
‘Yes. Mum, he won't give back my disk. He says it’s school property. He won't even let me copy it.’
‘This is the famous compost machine, is it?’ Susan asked.
‘Farm waste reprocessing plant,’ said Eldred, 'with a variation for an inorganic waste model, but I'm still working on that. It's a process for reducing bulk very quickly into a concentrated usable form. Organic waste can take up a lot of space on a farm, you see, and land values are at a premium.’
Susan and Mildred burst out laughing.
‘He's like this all the time?’ Susan exclaimed.
‘All the time,’ laughed Mildred.
Eldred went very still. ‘What is your article going to be about?’ he asked Susan.
‘Sorry, Eldred, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. Take no notice of me,’ she said, giggling. ‘The article's about you, of course: all the clever things you've done, for a boy of your age.’
‘Was it your own idea to write it or did someone else tell you to?’ Eldred asked.
‘Well, there's a person called a features editor on a newspaper, Eldred,’ Susan explained, ‘and we all have a meeting once a week and pool our ideas on what would make a good story for next week's issue, and then the features editor decides who should write what. I usually get human-interest stuff like this - children, animals, babies, family concerns. They're all sexist pigs in the newspaper world,’ she added with a teeth-baring smile.
‘Isn't it the same everywhere?’ sighed Mildred.
‘Don't you like children or animals?’ asked Eldred.
‘Of course I do, Eldred,’ said Susan. ‘They're just not the only thing women can write about, that's all. Now, let me finish my tea and then I'm going to ask you some questions about yourself, Eldred - all right?’
‘How do you interview animals?’ Eldred asked.
‘Let Susan finish her tea in peace,’ Mildred suggested. ‘Have a chocolate biscuit, Eldred. They're his favourite,’ she told Susan. 'They say the brain feeds on sugar, don't they? I don't know whether intelligence has something to do with good nourishment. Being an only child, he has more time devoted to his welfare, so it could be.’
‘I just wondered,’ Eldred explained, ‘as you interview the parents when the article's about a child, whether you'd interview the child if the article was about an unusual pet animal owned by a child, or whether you'd still interview the parents who owned the child who owned the animal.’
‘Goodness me!’ said Susan. 'What a mouthful.’
'Yes, don't talk with your mouth full, Eldred,’ said Mildred. ‘Susan will think we've no manners in this house.’
Eldred craned his neck to read Susan's notebook and saw she had written lists of his school term results at different ages. Underneath the notebook was a sheaf of folded papers he recognized as half-page essays written at school, under strict guidance.
There was also a page of what looked like algebra, which was in fact a collection of unconnected doodles Eldred had made to concentrate his mind while thinking of something to do with the structure and decomposition of matter. He thought he had thrown it away. He had thrown it away. It was crumpled. His mother must have taken it out of the bin.
‘You're not going to print that, are you?’ he asked, pointing to it. ‘It doesn't mean anything. I was just working something out.’
Susan held up the sheet and studied it. ‘Looks good, though, doesn't it?’ she said. ‘The photographer should be here any minute. I thought we could have a shot of you at your home computer, Eldred, holding this up.’
‘I'll give it a quick going over with iron first,’ said Mildred. ‘Can't have it looking all scrummed up.’
‘But people might try to read it,’ said Eldred, ‘and realize that it's rubbish.’
‘I hope you're not referring to my article!’ Susan laughed. Mildred joined in. ‘It will be brilliant, I assure you, Eldred!’
‘What questions did you want to ask me?’ asked Eldred.
‘Oh, just about your hobbies and interests, what you watch on telly, which football team you support, that kind of thing.’
‘I thought the article was about the work I've done,’ said Eldred.
‘Oh, your mum's told me all about that,’ Susan said. ‘I've covered that angle - unusual standards achieved by a nine-year old boy. What I want you to give me now is the normal schoolboy side - you know: "Although he spends his free time reading reference books in the library and inventing machines and things, in other ways Eldred Jones is an ordinary little boy who rides his bike and supports Spurs" - that kind of thing.’
‘Arsenal,’ said Mildred. ‘Always watches Arsenal with his dad, don't you, Eldred?’
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��But you haven't seen my work,’ Eldred said.
‘We'll take some pictures of it,’ Susan said. ‘That's the best way. You go and fetch some more of your stuff, if you like, and we'll pick out a few things for Rod to photograph when he gets here. That's if he ever arrives,’ she added, looking at her watch.
‘It's all on the computer,’ said Eldred. ‘Shall I print some pages off?’
‘No, leave it till he comes, then,’ said Susan. ‘He can take some shots of you actually at the computer, with something complicatedlooking on the screen.’
‘It's only a small VDU,’ Eldred said. ‘You can't really see the whole picture at one time. That's why I had to use the school one for the design. Do you think a design should be the property of the person who designed it, Susan, or the person who owned the empty disk?’
‘I really wouldn't know,’ she said. ‘Oh, look, here's Rod now.’
‘Do you want Eldred to change into his nice new sweater and jeans?’ asked Mildred.
‘No, school uniform's fine,’ Susan said. ‘I'll just go and let Rod in - okay?’
Genius Page 14