Hugo was sitting in the front seat of his sleek royal blue Lagonda when Holcombe pushed through the school door and began to walk across the playground. He stopped to speak to a handyman who was giving the front gates a fresh coat of lilac and green paint, the Merrywood school colours.
‘That’s a fine job you’re doing, Alf.’
‘Thank you, Mr Holcombe,’ Hugo heard the handyman say.
‘But I still expect you to concentrate more on your verbs, and do try not to be late on Wednesday.’
Alf touched his cap.
Holcombe began walking along the pavement and pretended not to see Hugo sitting behind the wheel of his car. Hugo allowed himself a smirk; everyone gave his Lagonda V12 a second look. Three young lads loitering on the pavement opposite hadn’t been able to take their eyes off it for the past half hour.
Hugo stepped out of the car and stood in the middle of the pavement, but Holcombe still ignored him. He couldn’t have been more than a stride away when Hugo said, ‘I wonder if we could have a word, Mr Holcombe. My name is—’
‘I’m well aware of who you are,’ said Holcombe, and walked straight past him.
Hugo chased after the schoolmaster. ‘It’s just that I felt you ought to know—’
‘Know what?’ said Holcombe, stopping in his tracks and turning to face him.
‘What your fiancée did for a living, not so very long ago.’
‘She was forced into prostitution because you wouldn’t pay for her son’s –’ he looked Hugo straight in the eye – ‘your son’s school fees, when he was in his last two years at Bristol Grammar School.’
‘There’s no proof that Harry Clifton is my son,’ said Hugo defiantly.
‘There was enough proof for a vicar to refuse to allow Harry to marry your daughter.’
‘How would you know? You weren’t there.’
‘How would you know? You ran away.’
‘Then let me tell you something you certainly don’t know,’ said Hugo, almost shouting. ‘This paragon of virtue that you’re planning to spend the rest of your life with has swindled me out of a piece of land I owned in Broad Street.’
‘Let me tell you something you do know,’ said Holcombe. ‘Maisie paid off every penny of your loan, with interest, and all you left her with was less than ten pounds to her name.’
‘That land’s now worth four hundred pounds,’ said Hugo, immediately regretting his words, ‘and it belongs to me.’
‘If it belonged to you,’ said Holcombe, ‘you wouldn’t be trying to buy the site for twice that amount.’
Hugo was livid that he had allowed himself to reveal the extent of his interest in the site, but he wasn’t finished. ‘So when you have sex with Maisie Clifton, do you have to pay for it, schoolmaster, because I certainly didn’t.’
Holcombe raised a fist.
‘Go on, hit me,’ goaded Hugo. ‘Unlike Stan Tancock, I’d sue you for every penny you’re worth.’
Holcombe lowered his fist and marched off, annoyed with himself for having allowed Barrington to rile him.
Hugo smiled. He felt he had delivered the knockout blow.
He turned round to see the lads on the other side of the road sniggering. But then they’d never seen a lilac and green Lagonda before.