He had at last succeeded in astonishing the man. Alcock’s head came up slowly. ‘What on earth has that to do with it? You don’t seem to appreciate the enormity of his offence. Bookmaking! Taking bets from other boys, on school premises! It’s the most reprehensible thing I’ve ever heard of.’
‘More reprehensible than breaking into lockers and stealing money and goods?’
‘They are virtually one and the same, aren’t they? Both acts of complete irresponsibility.’
‘What Hislop did was wrong but it was really no more than an extravagant lark – he’s that kind of boy and always has been. And what about all the boys who placed bets with him? Are they exempt? Half the school must have wagered if he showed a profit of fifteen pounds.’
‘I should be equally severe with them if I could trace them. Obviously I cannot, so I must make an example of the one I have caught. Apart from that, do I take it you approve of boys breaking into a servant’s quarters and searching his belongings?’
‘In Cricklade’s case? Yes, I do. If it had been left to us Cricklade wouldn’t have been caught. Or not until we had a real problem on our hands. But even that isn’t the whole of it. Hislop’s action was disinterested.’
‘You say that? With all his money stolen?’
‘He didn’t care about his own money. He told me, and I believe him, that he was encouraged to do what he did on account of young Harper’s money. Doesn’t that put the whole thing in a different light?’
‘I find it irrelevant. Even if it’s true, which I beg leave to doubt.’
‘Very well. Let me try and explain it from a personal angle. I came to you within minutes of Hislop coming to me. I came in confidence and trust. But you dealt with the matter summarily, without even consulting me, making nonsense of the tutorial system we’ve practised here since the school was founded. Boys are encouraged to trust their housemasters. What kind of trust will they have when it gets about that I was the means of Hislop implicating himself? Even Cricklade, if you catch him, will be warned that anything he says might be used in evidence against him. Try and put yourself in my place, Headmaster.’
Alcock was silent for a moment, drifting over to his customary vantage-point behind the desk, so that David thought, ‘He needs that barricade… without it he’s just one of us…’ and the thought encouraged him to add, ‘Under these circumstances we might just as well abolish the house system.’
It seemed then that he had scored a point, an insignificant one perhaps, but at least Alcock paused to consider. Then he said abruptly, ‘I agree. It has occurred to me more than once that it serves no useful purpose. An institution can only have one source of directive. It is sometimes confusing to have half a dozen. However, that’s something else, and I would want to give it a serious thought before I introduced an alternative system.’
David stirred but Alcock raised his hand, indicating he had more to say. ‘You asked me just now to regard this on a personal level. I’m very willing to, Powlett-Jones. Sometimes I ask myself if you and I can ever hope to work as colleagues. Why? It’s quite clear you resent me, have set yourself against me time and again, and you encouraged Mr Carter to make me act against my better judgment as regards that boy Monk. Now you seem determined to provoke an open quarrel over another flagrant breach of discipline. It won’t do, will it? Am I to expect your resignation?’
He said it almost casually, as if he had been talking about a laundry list or a parcel notice, but in a way this helped.
‘My resignation? No, Headmaster, you may not. Not now, not any time.’
‘You don’t agree we are likely to prove incompatible?’
‘I think that’s so, but it’s not going to scare me into resigning. You can try and get rid of me, as you got rid of Hislop, and tried to get rid of Monk, but I’ll fight and I’m in a position to fight hard. I’ll fight like the very devil. I’ve put years of my life into Bamfylde, and it owes me as much as I owe it. I don’t mind you knowing I disagree with your entire policy here, and I’m at a grave disadvantage, but while making things very uncomfortable for me it doesn’t frighten me. Tell the Governors anything you like, Headmaster. Then I’ll give them my side of it and leave them to judge. Neither of us would come out of it with much credit but that can’t be helped, can it?’
He was encouraged to note that Alcock seemed the tiniest bit rattled. He was toying with his paperknife, and even this was a concession. Perhaps twenty seconds ticked by. Then Alcock said, in the same infinitely restrained voice, ‘Very well, Powlett-Jones. We’ll leave it there, shall we? I don’t think we can have anything more to say to one another just now.’
‘Is it too much to ask you to reconsider Hislop’s case? To suspend him until the end of term and give him a fresh start next term?’
‘Altogether too much, I’m afraid.’ He got up, crossed to the door and opened it. David went out, wondering who had had the best of it this time and thinking, possibly, that it was honours even.
2
Carter was waiting for him, unable, it seemed, to contain himself until the end of prep. It was a very different Carter, however, from the semi-hysterical man who begged his help over Monk in March. He seemed confident, almost jaunty, having, it appeared, had time to absorb Gage’s story, but he raised his eyebrows when David told him about Alcock’s mention of a resignation.
‘I’m glad he didn’t put the same hint to me,’ he said. ‘I should have been very tempted to throw the damned job in his face and that would have been a little premature on my part.’
‘You’re thinking of resigning?’
‘Well, let’s say I’m thinking of promoting myself. I’ve got a bit put by, quite a bit as it happens, for I’ve been careful, and lucky with my investments. I want my own school and I mean to get it. As a matter of fact, I’ve got my eye on one, and if I made an offer I should want a partner. We behaved like a couple of bloody fools for long enough but that’s all behind us. I’ll never forget your attitude over Stoker Monk last term, and we seem to be the only two here who have faced up to the fact that Alcock is in a fair way to ruining this place. Suppose I come up with a proposition, would you be interested in buying in?’
‘That depends on all kinds of things. What sort of school, what sort of money you’d want.’
‘It’s a good-class prep school, in Kent. About a hundred boys so far, but we could soon double that. I believe we could work together and, frankly, I’d sooner take the gamble with someone I know and trust than a stranger. As to the money, you could give me a hint. How much, in round figures, could you raise if you had to?’
‘Not more than a couple of thousand, and I should have a job raising that. I’ve saved, and I’ve never touched my gratuity, but I’m still responsible for my mother and I’ve Grace to think of.’
Carter tapped his teeth, a habit of his. ‘Well, no point in pushing it further now, but this last business has helped me to make up my mind. You didn’t persuade that bastard to give Hislop another chance, I suppose?’
‘No, and there’s no point in another round robin. That worked once but it wouldn’t work again. I’ve promised to phone Hislop’s father now.’
‘Then I’ll shove off, for there’s nothing I can offer but sympathy, old man. You know that, I imagine?’
‘Yes, I do. And thanks, Carter.’
They shook hands and Carter let himself out. For a long time David sat looking at the phone. It required a considerable effort to pick it up and ask for Hislop’s number. When he did Hislop’s wife answered and her voice had a cutting edge to it.
‘You’re sure he won’t have second thoughts?’
‘Quite sure. He never has second thoughts about anything.’
‘There’s the possibility of legal proceedings. It wouldn’t do the school much good, would it?’
‘No, Mrs Hislop, but it wouldn’t do your lad any good, either. He’ll be going on to another school, won’t he?’
‘If we can find him one, after this.’
&nbs
p; ‘I think I could help there.’
‘How?’
‘By setting out the facts as his housemaster, and presenting a case in writing that any intelligent headmaster would take into consideration.’
‘You’d do that?’
‘I’d be glad to. Your boy isn’t a bad boy. He’s very popular here, especially with the juniors. How does he feel about it?’
Her voice had mellowed a little. ‘Well, naturally he’s shocked, but in a way he’s also relieved. To be out of the man’s reach, I mean. He tells me things aren’t at all the same since Mr Herries retired. Is that true?’
‘Quite true, unfortunately. All the decisions are taken out of our hands. The new man is a law unto himself and I’m only saying that because I feel I don’t owe him loyalty.’
There was a pause, then she said, ‘Will you write that letter? Something I could enclose in an application to a headmaster?’
‘I’ll write it now. Tonight.’
‘Good. Then I don’t think you need worry about legal proceedings. Don’t tell that awful man as much, however.’
‘Madam,’ said David, ‘I wouldn’t tell Alcock the time of day,’ and it was a pleasure to hear her laugh.
He replaced the receiver and was surprised at his own calmness. Whatever it was, something had been resolved, and that was an improvement. He took a pen and began to write, reflecting as he did that he had never improved on ‘Moderate’ in any report he had compiled in respect of Hislop, king of The Lump.
Three
* * *
1
IT ARRIVED IN THE FORM OF A HOUSEMASTER’S CIRCULAR, A few days before the end of summer term. A brief crisply worded directive, couched in terms that were, David decided, so typically Alcockian as to qualify as a self-parody. It was more of an edict than a statement of policy. There was nothing in the least consultative about it and it had the surprise side-effect of rallying them, temporarily at least, under a single banner. Barnaby, mulling it over, said it would have looked well under the signature of the Emperor Caligula. In their long association David had never seen the amiable Barnaby show that much resentment.
The edict announced: ‘It has come to my notice that a number of sentimental friendships appear to exist between senior and junior boys. I do not think I need to be explicit as to what this presages. I have therefore decided that steps must be taken to suppress such friendships as, at best, undignified and, at worst, extremely unhealthy. I look to all housemasters to co-operate. Signed, J. D. Alcock, M.A. (Lond.)’
It referred, of course, to the custom recognised as ‘ninging’, and it was manifestly clear from Alcock’s tone that he had completely misunderstood the traditional Bamfylde approach to the practice. David did not blame him for his. He himself had taken time to adjust to it and it was to be expected, he supposed, that a new man, with little or no experience of British schools, should take a very prejudiced view of an association between boys of different age and status. It was one more example of Alcock’s failure to communicate.
‘Ninging’ was a verb that Bamfylde appeared to have appropriated to itself round about the turn of the century. In the view of Algy, and other old hands, it had its approximate equivalent in every public school in the country. In general terms it was no more than a personal attachment between a boy in Upper School, and a boy who was working his way through the Lower School. What Alcock overlooked at Bamfylde was its comparative innocence.
In his very earliest days on the moor David had half-concluded that ninging was a polite euphemism for a positive homosexual relationship, of the kind common enough in the army. Soon after settling in, however, and guided by the prescient Algy Herries, he had seen it for what it was, a combination of hero worship on the part of the younger boys and what he could only describe as a status charade on the part of a senior boy, advertising his improved position in the school, a traditional, if bizarre, example of throwing his weight about, much in the way he might flaunt newly acquired school colours. Sometimes it showed itself in nothing more than a beefy patronage towards his fag, or some other junior. Occasionally it progressed to the stage where the younger boy was the recipient of teatime extras or minor privileges.
In his Grammar School days he had heard very sinister rumours of the kind of friendships said to exist between seniors and juniors in all English boarding schools, and had thought of them as yet another instance of English decadence. But under Algy, and particularly when he had a house of his own, he had seen these associations for what they were, at least on the spot. In Wesker’s time, again according to Algy, he might have had good grounds for suspecting the worst but as the tone of the school improved in the decade leading up to the war, Algy’s policy of tolerance had paid an unexpected dividend. Algy’s approach to ninging, like his approach to many aspects of school life, had been unconventional. David recalled him saying, on one occasion, ‘Drive this sentimentality underground and every now and again you’ll encourage it to develop into something positive and dangerous. Let the nippers have their hero and the seniors their sounding board and admiring private audience and you take the steam out of it in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred.’
David had asked him what he did in the hundredth case and Algy said, with a shrug, ‘You sit on it within the hour. Not forgetting that it was slackness on a housemaster’s part for not spotting it from the beginning.’
He had never had occasion to question Algy’s precepts. Not once, in his time as housemaster, had a friendship of this kind merited intervention on his part.
It seemed, however, that Alcock had other views. Possibly his experience in schools overseas was that much wider but if this was so why didn’t he say so?
‘That’s asking altogether too much of the idiot,’ Carter announced, when the matter was being discussed over coffee in the common room. ‘We should have learned by now that the man is constitutionally incapable of communicating.’
But Alcock wasn’t, or not altogether. To everyone’s amazement he suddenly presented himself in the common room and addressed them as a body, just as if they had been a group of monitors training for promotion to positions of full prefectship.
He said, distantly, ‘Touching that letter I sent to housemasters. It occurred to me later that I should have addressed a copy to every member of the staff. I take it you have had time to discuss it among yourselves?’
Irvine, not a housemaster, growled that they had, and went on to demand, with his usual bluntness, what, if anything, he was expected to do about it.
Alcock said, mildly, ‘Why, sever it, Irvine. On the spot. And then report to me, in order that it can be fully investigated.’
Barnaby spoke up. It was the first time he had ever challenged the new man but he did it without preamble.
‘There’s nothing of that kind in my house, I can assure you of that. Friendships, yes, but perfectly harmless ones, believe me.’
Alcock lifted one shoulder. ‘I should like to, Barnaby, but none of us can be sure, can we?’
‘I can,’ Barnaby huffed. ‘I don’t speak for anyone else.’
Alcock seemed to consider this for a moment and then, when nobody followed it up, nodded and withdrew. Barely was he clear of the threshold when the bull-headed Irvine exploded.
‘Bloody man’s a nut-case! First he cancels free periods to watch important matches, then he starts sacking left, right and centre, now he confronts us with a thing like this! How the hell is a man supposed to investigate a ning without risking a snub? Aye, and a bloody-minded parent’s letter into the bargain! Bound to make a fool of yourself, however you tackle it,’ and he went on to provide them with what David thought a very fair illustration of his point. ‘I see Skelton, pacing round the plantation boundary with young Grattan, deep in conversation with him. Now I happen to know that Skelton regards Grattan as the likeliest kid among the juniors to captain that new Colt’s Eleven I’m bringing on. Boy’s going to make a first-class bowler, providing he keeps at it, and where the hell would he loo
k for coaching if he’s got a ha’porth o’ sense? To the captain of the First Eleven wouldn’t he? And that man would have us believe they were madly in love with one another, when the damn fool has never watched a match in his life!’
Barnaby, having recovered his equanimity somewhat, resumed his favourite role of verbal agent provocateur. ‘They might, of course, be using cricket as an emotional bridge, Irvine.’
‘Cock!’ roared Irvine, who had never adapted to Barnaby’s gentle leg-pulls. ‘I told Skelton to coach the kid! What does that make me? A pimp?’
It became known, when discussions on the subject widened, as the Stoic’s ‘Statute of Limitations’, an attempt to draw an arbitrary line between seniors and juniors. Among the boys it acquired a less dignified title. They called it ‘Noble’s Three N’s, or Non-Ninging Notice’, and this is how it was referred to years later, when Old Boys reminisced round the bar at Whitsuntide reunions.
But at the time it soon ceased to be a joke, especially after Alcock launched his follow-up, demanding of each housemaster the imposition of a virtual ban in association between the two groups. It was then that Howarth scored for the staff, following a demand for a personal report on two of his boys transgressing the Statue of Limitations. Replying to Alcock’s enquiry concerning the relationship between Dobson, an Upper Fifth rugby colour, and Vesey, a first-termer in the Lower Third, he produced a letter written from Vesey’s father, then serving in the R.A.M.C. in India alongside Dobson’s father, whom he happened to outrank.
The relevant quotation was passed from hand to hand as proof that even the Stoic was vulnerable to Howarth’s irony. Vesey père had written,
The kid is sure to feel a bit low, seeing that this is his first trip home, but Captain Dobson happened to mention his younger boy is in his fourth year and asks me to ask you to put in a word with young Dobson on the kid’s behalf. I don’t want him coddled, mind you, but it was a great relief to his mother to learn that Dobson’s boy is still with you…
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