Shoddy Prince

by Sheelagh Kelly

  His appetite whetted for adventure by Bowman’s tales of abroad, Nat listened assiduously whilst Carrington went on to explain about life on the prairies, about the long sunny days and wide open spaces, the wildlife to be seen and the breathtaking scenery.

  ‘Canada is a great country, a wonderful place to live,’ proceeded the speaker. ‘But it is a young country too, a great part of it without settlement, especially in the west where I come from. We need new blood to ensure its future growth. To those who are willing to work hard I can offer a fine life, the finest life a boy could wish for – but I cannot lay too much emphasis on the word work. After what I’ve just told you about the hot summers and the wonderful countryside some of you might be regarding this as an escape from the discipline of school; make no mistake, it is not. The winters are bitterly cold and the toil can be backbreaking. Most importantly, the Canadian government wishes to make it clear that this is not a dumping ground for those who wish to proceed with their criminal activities in a new world. Any misdemeanour will find you on a ship back to England. Understand that right now.’ Again he fixed his eyes on individuals of the audience, before his tone became once again affable. ‘But I’m sure that none of you would be stupid enough to throw away such a wonderful chance and to let down the good Canadian folk who’d be kind enough to take you into their homes.’ He glanced at the superintendent. ‘Now, as I said there are only places for fifty boys, so without throwing some kind o’ lottery Mr Raskelf and myself had to work out who was going to qualify. Would you care to elaborate, sir?’ Carrington indicated the podium.

  Raskelf took the stage again. ‘I would indeed, and if you have nothing further to add, Mr Carrington?’ The visitor shook his head and backed away. ‘Then I am sure the boys would like to show their great appreciation, not only for your most interesting speech but also for the fantastic opportunity you are about to extend to them.’ He instigated a round of applause, then addressed the audience. ‘It seems to me that the fairest way to do this is to wait until after the inspector’s examinations and then to calculate which boys have made the most progress since their last assessment.’

  Hearing this criterion for eligibility, Nat’s interest palled. He would never be selected. Even if he had shown improvement he wouldn’t be chosen because Raskelf didn’t like him – so why waste the effort?

  The superintendent beamed at the Canadian visitor. ‘Well, Mr Carrington, may I once again extend the thanks of the entire school. I am certain everyone found your speech riveting – why, I almost wish that I could go and live in Canada myself!’

  ‘You would be most welcome, sir.’ Carrington donated a gracious nod and received a final burst of applause.

  Still cheerful, Raskelf concluded the evening assembly. ‘Now, boys, I hope that you are not too excited to sleep, for you will be expected to rise bright and early for your labours ahead. I bid you all good night!’

  After Raskelf’s dismissal, Nat did not join the crush of boys who wanted to shake Carrington’s hand, preferring only to share a few words with his friend Bowman before retiring for the night. The dormitory buzzed with talk of the Canadian scheme, but Nat contributed nothing and was soon asleep.

  Directly after breakfast every boy was given a paint brush and a strip of wall to redecorate. Before the week was out the entire building was painted and polished.

  The school inspector arrived and was greatly impressed. As he toured the ranks of assembled boys he congratulated them and stopped periodically to ask a question. Nat hoped the man would not stop before him. He was coming nearer. Oh, no.

  ‘And you are?’

  ‘Number thirty-four, sir.’

  ‘Tell me, what is your favourite occupation, thirty-four?’

  The question was not as difficult as Nat had feared. He had the sudden urge to be reckless. ‘Sleeping, sir.’

  The inspector looked disconcerted; his mouth had a quizzical edge. ‘How strange! And why is that?’

  ‘’Cause it’s easier than being awake.’

  The man exchanged a glare with the superintendent, shook his head at this insanity and moved on.

  ‘See me later, thirty-four!’ muttered Raskelf as he passed.

  * * *

  ‘Count yourself lucky I spoke up on your behalf!’ reproved Chipchase, releasing Nat after he had spent the rest of the day and night locked in a cell without a proper meal. ‘Mr Raskelf wanted to deny you visiting rights, though why you should have people forever bending over backwards to help you is a mystery.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Nat.

  ‘I did it more for your little pal than for you. She was most put out when I told her she couldn’t come in last Saturday.’

  ‘Bright called last week?’ Nat frowned. ‘You never said owt before.’

  ‘What would be the point?’ Chipchase conducted him towards the breakfast hall. ‘Anyway, she’s coming this afternoon so behave yourself. What an idiotic thing to say to the inspector – sleeping indeed!’

  Nat laughingly told Bright about his impudence when she came to visit that Saturday afternoon. He seemed much more cheerful this time, and afterwards he went on to tell her about Bowman’s visit. Usually it was she who did all the talking, but this week he was not so bereft of topics, proceeding to tell her about the Canadian trip. ‘Lucky devils, whoever they are – certainly won’t be me.’ Noting that she looked preoccupied he said, ‘You’re looking a bit maungy. What’s up?’

  All week Bright had been rehearsing this, saying in her imagination, Nat I’m going to have a baby; Nat, I’m having your baby; Nat we have to get married… but here she was with the opportunity to blurt it out and what did she say? ‘I’m all right.’

  The opportunity was gone. Nat’s expression changed and he groaned. ‘It’s the examinations on Monday. I don’t expect to do any good in them. You don’t fancy sneaking in here and taking them for me, do you?’

  She looked vague. ‘What?’

  His eyebrows descended. ‘I don’t know why you bothered coming! You’ve hardly said a word and you’re not listening to owt I say.’

  ‘Yes I am!’

  ‘Tell me what I said then.’

  Bright lowered her head. It was a few seconds before he realized she was crying.

  ‘Christ, what’s up?’ He stared at her in horror, then looked round in embarrassment to see if this was being observed.

  She covered her face with a handkerchief and fought to compose herself. ‘I came to see you last week but Mr Chipchase wouldn’t let me in.’

  ‘Aye, he just told me a bit ago – did you get the wrong day?’

  She shook her head and breathed deeply. ‘I had something to tell ye.’

  He waited. Bright did not enlarge. ‘Well, what is it?’

  ‘Oh, God… I can’t say it.’ She sniffed. ‘I didn’t know it’d be this hard.’ She balled her hanky, then sat plucking at it. ‘You know… that night when…’

  ‘Ssh!’ Nat’s arm shot out and touched hers. ‘I know which night – Christ, I think of nowt else in here.’

  ‘Do you?’ She sounded hopeful. ‘Do you miss me, Nat?’

  ‘Course I do.’ He looked uncomfortable and wished she would keep her voice down.

  ‘You know—’

  He cut her off with a testy, ‘I know.’

  ‘No, I’m not going to say anything about… that. I was just going to say, d’you remember when you said, well, you said you were going to marry me when we grew up?’ He nodded. ‘Well, did ye mean it?’ Her eyes were red and anxious.

  Nat studied her face for a while. Something warned him to be very careful. ‘Ye-es,’ he replied at last.

  A big sigh of relief burst from her. ‘Oh! That makes it a bit easier to tell you. Nat, I’m—’ She bit her lip, then summoned him to lean over and whispered in his ear.

  ‘What!’ Nat sat bolt upright. All heads turned to look. He laughed in embarrassment. The spectators laughed too and turned back to their conversations. Nat covered an oath of, ‘Shit!’ with
his hand and looked devastated.

  ‘You’ll still marry me, won’t ye? I’m not being forward in asking, after all it is Leap Year and a girl’s prerogative to be the suitor.’

  He stared at Bright – no longer bright. As if it wasn’t bad enough being incarcerated in here she wanted to imprison him with a child. He was fifteen years old, for God’s sake! Suddenly he wanted to see things, do things, travel the world. How could he travel with a millstone like her round his neck? Yet through his sheer heart-thumping terror he heard himself say, ‘Yes, of course I will. Nothing’s changed.’

  She sought confirmation. ‘Ye still love me?’

  ‘Yes, yes…’ No, I bloody hate you! All love had vanished. How could you love someone who gave herself so easily? And then he stared at her freckled face and melted. Oh yes, he did love her! But how could she? How could she do this to him…

  Visiting time was almost over. ‘I’d better go now.’ Bright rose. He glanced at her pinafore. There was nothing to see.

  ‘Wait!’ He urged her to sit down and whispered. ‘You don’t look fat enough. How do you know you’re…?’

  She blushed. ‘I just know. I can feel something moving inside me.’ Nat drew back, a look of slight revulsion on his face. ‘But you don’t know it’s a – it could be worms or something.’

  She was eager to grasp any explanation. ‘D’ye think so?’

  ‘Could be. There was a lad in here who had this great big worm coming from his bum.’ Nat remembered that the appalling boy had dangled it proudly in front of his face.

  Bright shook her head and sighed. She was used to encountering pregnant women in the neighbourhood. Nat might not be able to detect her increased girth but it was there all right. Her sisters had noticed it too, but up to now thought it was only due to growing into a woman. How would they ever dream that such a thing had happened to her? ‘I don’t think it’s worms, Nat. I remember me mam being sick not so long ago, and when I asked her what was wrong she said she wasn’t ill it was just because she was having a baby… but she never had it, cause it was dead or something. Anyway, I felt sick just after Christmas. When it went away I thought I was all right but, well, there’s other things too. I don’t think there’s much doubt, Nat, I’m sorry.’

  ‘When will you have it, then?’ His voice was dull.

  ‘I don’t know. I asked this girl how long it takes—’

  ‘You’ve told people!?’ He was aghast.

  ‘No, I didn’t say it was me! We were just talking in general. She said it takes nine months from the man – well, from when ye did what ye did to me. I guess that’s the reason this has happened.’

  Nat wrung his hands. ‘Don’t know, must be, I suppose.’ He had never really associated the act with conception, only pleasure.

  Bright nibbled some loose skin on the inside of her cheek. The news had obviously stunned him as she had expected it would. For herself, she felt over the worst, knowing that he would marry her. Oh, dear God! She had just remembered his real name. How awful to be called Mrs Smellie! Guilt drowned her shallow thought and she glanced around. The supervising officer was asking visitors to leave. Rising again, she told him, ‘I’ll have to find a way of breaking it to me mam. I’ll tell her first. She’ll tell me dad. Oh Nat, I don’t know what he’ll say! At least now I can tell them you’ll stick by me. And maybe the guardians’ll show mercy and let you out to marry me.’ She hesitated, then bent and kissed him. ‘Oh, I do love ye!’

  He followed her exit with a wan smile, and remained hunched in his chair, steeped in utter despair.

  Mr Chipchase was inquisitive to learn the reason for Bright Maguire’s premature visit. Judging by Nat’s face and the fact that he had not moved an inch it was of some import. ‘Anything I can help with, twenty-seven?’

  Nat emerged from his trance. ‘No sir, I’m just thinking about the examinations on Monday.’ With that excuse came a sudden answer. If he did well in the tests then he might just get chosen to go to Canada – and escape!

  ‘Ah well,’ Mr Chipchase was saying, ‘I don’t suppose you’ll be straining your eyes over your text books tonight – eh, where are you leaping off to?’

  ‘Sorry, sir!’ Nat looked determined. ‘I want to do a bit of reading before teatime.’

  ‘Reading? Whatever next?’ Chipchase shook his head.

  Nat urged himself to concentrate on the text books. It’s your one chance of a new life. You’ve got to be chosen. Got to. The words went in through his eyes but refused to imprint themselves on his memory. Try! Try! But all he kept hearing was a squalling brat, and he wanted to run.

  * * *

  With the great weight lifted from her shoulders, Bright’s step was much lighter on her way home. Everything was going to be fine. She felt wonderful. However, when she arrived and her mother smiled a welcome she realized that breaking her secret was going to prove far more difficult than she had anticipated, and decided to postpone it until tomorrow. If it were true that it took nine months then there was plenty of time left.

  But tomorrow turned into yesterday, and by the end of the week she had still not told them.

  During that week a frantic Nat had worked harder at his lessons than he had ever done in his life. The results of the examinations were due to be announced at this evening’s assembly. There had to be some improvement, just had to be. Awaiting the results Nat pictured the scene in the Maguire household, wondering when Bright’s father would come to abuse him; there was no doubt that Mr Maguire would be very angry.

  ‘Thirty-four!’ Nat jerked at the mention of his number.

  ‘Very good progress there,’ stated Mr Raskelf from the podium. ‘Well done, boy – thirty-seven!’

  Nat drifted back into thought until the more important list of numbers was announced: those fifty boys who had made the most improvement during the year. After Raskelf’s praise Nat began to feel more confident.

  ‘Fourteen, eighteen…’

  Get to it, get to it! urged Nat.

  ‘Nineteen, twenty-five…’

  Behind his back, Nat’s fingernails dug into his skin.

  ‘Twenty-seven, thirty…’

  Yes, yes!

  ‘Thirty-six…’

  Nat’s heart leaped – maybe Raskelf had jumbled the numbers up! He clenched his fists, willing the next number to be his.

  ‘Forty-nine, fifty-one…’

  Nat’s hopes caved in. The remainder of the list fell on deaf ears. Whilst the lucky candidates exchanged thrilled whispers, Nat just wanted to vomit.

  The superintendent had completed the list and now folded it. ‘Let us all applaud those who have shown such improvement and wish them well for their journey on Saturday.’ There was a burst of clapping. Nat did not join in. ‘And I think a special round of applause is warranted for two boys who tried extremely hard and were only a whisker’s breadth from reaching the list of emigrants – numbers thirty-four and one-one-two.’

  Nat gave terse acceptance to the applause. Already he was working out how to escape from here.

  Officer Chipchase, unable to account for Nat when it was time for lights out, feared he might have absconded, but eventually found him brooding alone in the darkness of the boiler house. ‘What’re you doing here?’ he called from the doorway. ‘You should be in your dorm.’

  ‘I can’t hear meself think up there,’ grumbled Nat, chin resting on the palms of his hands.

  Chipchase plodded down the steps. ‘You don’t sound too happy about going to Canada.’

  Hope sprang into Nat’s breast. ‘Did he miss my number out?’

  Chipchase frowned. ‘No, I heard twenty-seven called out as plain as day.’

  So cruelly misled Nat could have punched the man, but restrained himself and said through gritted teeth, ‘I’m not twenty-seven, I’m thirty-four.’

  ‘Are you? I could have sworn…’ The elephantine features crumpled in bemusement. ‘Oh well, surely you’re delighted with your progress if nothing else?’

 
; ‘Hasn’t done me no good though, has it,’ sulked Nat.

  ‘Well, it certainly hasn’t helped your grammar, but surely it’s an improvement if only for your own self-esteem.’ The officer took this opportunity to light his pipe, relaxing against a warm wall.

  Nat watched the matchflame ignite the tobacco. ‘I really wanted to go to Canada.’

  ‘Can’t say I blame you. It sounds like a fine country.’ Chipchase sucked on the pipestem, observing Nat with one beady impassive eye through the gloom.

  ‘Not just because o’ that…’ For the first time in his life Nat confided in someone other than Bright. ‘I have to get away.’

  Chipchase sensed that the urgency was real, and asked quietly, ‘Why?’

  Nat didn’t look at him. ‘She’s having a baby.’

  ‘Oh dear.’ Chipchase closed his eyes and took a puff of tobacco. ‘Your little friend who comes to visit?’

  Nat nodded, watching the wisps of smoke writhe through the darkness.

  ‘Why, she’s not much older than y—’ He broke off as the true calamity hit him. ‘You don’t mean it’s yours do you?’

  Well, I don’t mean yours, stupid, thought Nat, but again he merely nodded.

  Chipchase almost dropped his pipe. ‘You idiotic – how did it happ—’ With testy exclamation he checked himself. ‘I mean, it must’ve been during those few months you were out presumably?’