Genius

by Clare Nonhebel

CHAPTER 73

  'Dear Lulubelle,’ wrote Eldred, upstairs in his room at home, 'I have so much homework since I started at Abingdale School that this will only be a short note. I don't have time to write letters in lessons any more because Mr Dabrowski - that's my class teacher- has set me a project. So if I finish my work before the others, I have to get out my project and do some more work on it. It's really good, though.

  'The first week, I started a project on aviation but I got bored with that because all the good information was in one book and there didn't seem much point in just copying it out. So I asked him if I could change and he said I could, and now I am doing a project on prophets. So far, I am looking at books on (or by) Mohammed, Buddha, Mahatma Gandhi, and the prophecies of Isaiah foretelling Jesus Christ. Do you know anything about them or any other really spectacular prophets?

  'I hope you get this before the circus leaves Snelcombe. I've written a note on the envelope asking the Post Office to forward it if you've moved on, if they know where Mannfield's Circus has gone.

  'Things are happening with my organic waste recycling plant. You remember I told you Louise had set up a meeting with a German businessman and I had an uneasy feeling that he might not be the right person to sell the rights to? Well, Louise said it was okay to pray about anything that was important to you so I prayed about that and asked Keith to as well and he prayed too.

  'The next day Louise phoned and said Herr Wolfmann - that's the businessman - had been called back to Germany by his company, so the meeting and press conference had to be called off. And the day after that, Bruce Mackeson phoned (the farm manager who gave me lots of useful information which helped me perfect the design of the machine) and said he and some other farmers had got together a consortium to bid for the machine and develop it and I would be one of the partners and not only be paid for the rights but share in the profits it will make.

  'Louise wasn't sure this was better at first, because she thought Herr Wolfmann's company would be annoyed with her but when I told her I'd prayed for Herr Wolfmann to go away if he wasn't the right person, she laughed and said it must be okay and it served her right for telling me I could talk to God about anything I liked and he'd answer me, and she would have to be more careful who she told that to next time. So we're going ahead with Bruce Mackeson, and Louise has decided to come in as a partner too.

  'How is your practising going for the new move you mentioned - the handsprings leading to the trampoline jump to the platform? It must be hard to judge the distances accurately. How long do you have to practise for every day?

  'Must go, lots of love, write when you can, love Eldred.

  'PS - Keith was asking if I'd heard from you. He hasn't been well again. Can you send him another postcard soon? Lots of love, E.J.

  'PPS - By the way - I hope you don't mind me asking - does it ever bother you that you don't know who your father might be? You don't think your mother hates him, do you?’

  'He hardly touched his tea again,’ said Mildred.

  'Wants to get on with his homework,’ Edgar said. 'He'll be all right when he settles down at this school. At least he's not bored all day now.’

  'I hope he's not fretting for his old friends,’ said Mildred. 'I said he could go to the park and meet them for football after school but he said he was tired. You don't think something's troubling him, do you? Edgar?’

  'What? No, of course not, Mildred; don't fuss. If he says he's tired, he's tired, that's all. Only natural, starting at a new school, two years ahead of his age and all, and in the middle of a term.’

  'I hope you're right,’ she said thoughtfully. 'I'll just pop upstairs and see if he wants anything.’

  'Leave him to finish his homework,’ Edgar said. 'He'll be down in five minutes, most likely, to watch The Bill.’

  As Mildred hesitated, the phone rang. Edgar didn't move.

  'Eldred!’ Mildred shouted up the stairs, covering the receiver in her hand. 'It's for you.’

  'Who is it?’ Eldred shouted back.

  'It's that girl. Lulubelle.’

  Eldred hurtled down the stairs and snatched the receiver out of Mildred's hand.

  'Lulubelle! I was just writing to you. How are you?’

  'Fed up,’ said Lulubelle. 'I hurt my back; I've been lying on a board for a week.’

  'Is it bad? Can't you move?’

  'It's better than it was. I had some physio. But I'm sick that I can't rehearse. Did I tell you I had this new move, with a mini­trampoline?’

  'Is that how you got hurt?’

  'Yes, mistimed it and landed awkwardly. I'll probably have to lie flat for another week.’

  'That's sad for you,’ said Eldred. 'I can't imagine you keeping still. Have you got any books?’

  'Only school stuff and I don't feel like it,’ she said.

  'I could send you some books,’ said Eldred. 'What kind do you like?’

  'I don't really,’ she admitted. 'I like comics best.’

  'Shall I send you some comics, then?’

  'Mum got me all this week's,’ she said. Her voice was flat, unlike the Lulubelle he knew.

  'I've got some old ones,’ he said. 'I'll ask Mum to post them tomorrow on her way to work. Are you still in Snelcombe?’

  'Yes, but not for much longer. You couldn't come up and see me, Eldred, could you?’

  He was distressed. 'I wish I could but I don't see how. Mum goes on night shift from Friday and she's working the weekend.’

  'Oh, that's all right,’ said Lulubelle. 'I thought you probably couldn't. I have to go now, Eldred. I sneaked out to use the phone but the money's going. You will send me the letter you were writing, won't you, even though you've spoken to me?’

  'Yes, of course I will.’

  'Post it tomorrow,’ she said, 'even if it's not finished, okay?’

  'Okay,’ he said, but she had been cut off.

  'How is Lulubelle?’ asked Mildred.

  'Injured,’ he said. 'If someone gets up and walks when they're meant to be lying flat, would they make a back injury worse?’

  'I expect so, yes,’ said Mildred. 'Would you like a chocolate biscuit while you watch The Bill?’

  'No, thanks,’ said Eldred. 'I'm going to add a bit to a letter. Then I'll probably go to bed,’ he said.

  'It's very early! Are you tired again, Eldred?’

  'No,’ he said listlessly, 'not really.’ He left the room.

  'There is something wrong,’ said Mildred. 'I'm sure of it.’

  'Nonsense,’ said Edgar. 'We all get a bit tired from time to time. You take it easy yourself, Mildred, if you're going to start these night shifts. Any chance of a cup of tea before the programme starts?’