CHAPTER 29
Eldred's class was peacefully huddled on the floor of the video room watching a schools programme on road construction when Eldred started crying and couldn't stop. All Mrs Garcia's questions, commands, threats and, finally, cajoling, could not elicit the reason for his uncharacteristic behaviour.
'For the last time of asking, Eldred, what is wrong?’ she said, but Eldred could only sob, 'Everything! Everything's wrong!’
'I'm taking you to the Head,’ she decided.
The Head, a kindly if unimaginative man, was concerned. Eldred emitted only muffled sobs while Mrs Garcia explained, but as soon as she left the room he broke down and howled. The Head had never heard a nine-year old cry like that; it was the cry of a heartbroken adult who had lost his reason for living. He was shocked. He phoned Mrs Jones and suggested she take Eldred home for the rest of the day.
Mildred was shaken by the request. She arrived at the school looking white and worried.
'Does he usually cry like this?’ Mr Vaughan asked her.
'Never,’ Mildred said. 'He never cries at all. Did something happen?’
'No,’ said Mr Vaughan. 'Not that we know of. The class was watching television.’
On the bus, Mildred sat Eldred in a vacant section and kept her arm round him, shielding him from inquisitive stares. Eldred found it comforting. Neither of his parents normally cuddled him. He had noticed that other parents hugged their children quite often and thought that the fact that his did not might be his own fault. If he had not been in hospital all those years, perhaps they would have learned. It must have been difficult for them, having an infant who lived in an oxygen tent for most of the time, and it was probably too late for them to learn new habits when he went home at the age of five.
At home, Mildred made them both a cup of tea and gave Eldred a chocolate biscuit. Only when he had eaten it, crumb by crumb, between sobs, did she say, 'That's better. Now, tell me what's wrong.’
Eldred's eyes brimmed over again. 'Everything,’ he said.
'Was it something you were watching on the television programme?’ Mildred asked. She was upset to see Eldred like this. He was always so self-possessed. At the same time, she found him easier now he was crying. She had occasionally wondered if her child was really a child at all, and if he was hers. He seemed so far away from her at times.
'They were digging up all the countryside for roads,’ Eldred said. 'Tearing up great chunks of fields and woods. They do it all the time. It's so ugly. There's going to be nothing beautiful left.’
'I know, it's a shame when that happens,’ Mildred said, thankful that he was talking about something she could understand. 'But you can't take it all to heart, Eldred, everything that happens in the world. They think it's progress and that's all there is to it.’
'Everything gets destroyed,’ Eldred sobbed. 'Everything good gets mucked about with and wasted, till there's nothing left.’
Mildred wrinkled her brow. 'Is this just about roads, Eldred, or is there something else?’ Eldred put his head down on the table and howled. Mildred moved her chair next to his and took him in her arms, rocking him as she had never rocked him when he was a baby. Finally he lifted his head, blew his nose on the tissue she held out for him, and said, 'Dad's going to put all the wrong things on that form. He doesn't know what he's doing. He won't let Louise tell him.’
'Of course your dad knows what he's doing,’ Mildred began, but this caused such a storm of renewed crying from Eldred that she stopped. 'Come and sit over here,’ she said. She led Eldred to the sofa and they sat in silence broken only by Eldred's subsiding sobs.
'All right,’ she said, when he grew quieter. 'I'm going to talk straight to you now, Eldred - all right? Like a grown up.’
Eldred nodded.
'It's not easy for your dad,’ she said, 'having a clever son. You seem to know more and more every day and we can't keep up. It's not that we're trying to hold you back, love, or that we're not proud of you or anything but sometimes we don't know what to do for the best and the school doesn't seem to help much. We know you're bored and there's things you want to learn but we don't have the knowledge to teach you ourselves and sometimes we can't understand what you're talking about when you try to explain things. I know we must seem very slow to you, Eldred, but that's the way it is.’
'I don't mean to be like that,’ Eldred sniffed.
Mildred tightened her arm around him. 'Nobody's blaming you,’ she said. 'I'm just worried about you. The world isn't a very kind place, Eldred, and not many people are going to understand you. If you let it be seen that you're too different from the rest, your life isn't going to be easy. On the other hand, it's no good pretending you're average when you're not, is it?’
'But there are other children like me, aren't there?’ said Eldred.
'There must be;’ said Mildred. 'There was that boy who got into university at the age of twelve, wasn't there? Would you like that?’
'No,’ said Eldred. 'I don't want to leave school and not have any friends.’
'One thing Louise said,’ said Mildred carefully, 'was that you might be better at a different kind of school. Your dad wasn't keen on the idea but if you want that we can give it a bit more thought. What d'you think?’
Eldred wriggled round to study her face. 'It would be a boarding school,’ he said. 'Probably. Wouldn't it?’
'It probably would,’ Mildred said.
'Would you mind?’ said Eldred anxiously. 'I mean, you haven't had me with you very much, with me being in hospital all that time. And you and Dad tried so long to have a baby, didn't you?’
Tears came into Mildred's eyes. 'Is that what's stopping you?’ she said.
'It's one reason,’ Eldred said. 'Also, I'd be scared.’
'But would you be happier at a school for clever children?’ Mildred asked. 'I mean, you'd be normal there and there'd be people who could teach you at your own level.’
Eldred stretched out his toes and heaved a deep sigh. 'We'd never be able to afford it,’ he said.
'But if the money could be found somehow,’ Mildred pursued, 'would you like to go to a place like that?’
'I think I would,’ Eldred admitted. 'You'll think I'm being silly and over-dramatic but I don't think I can go on like this.’
Mildred looked at his tear-blotched face. 'No,’ she said, 'I don't think you can.’
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