4
FROM The Times:
CHARACTER OF THE ENGLISH SCHOOLBOY.—The Deputy-Coroner for Ashton, Mr. H. S. Wasbrough, held an inquest yesterday at the Station Hotel, Windfield, on the body of Peter James St John Middleton, aged 13, a schoolboy. The boy had been swimming in a pool at a disused quarry near Windfield School when two older boys had seen him apparently in difficulties, the court was told. One of the older boys, Miguel Miranda, a native of Cordova, gave evidence that his companion, Edward Pilaster, aged 16, stripped off his outer clothing and dived in to try to save the younger boy, but to no avail. The headmaster of Windfield, Dr Herbert Poleson, testified that the quarry was out of bounds to pupils, but he was aware that the rule was not always obeyed. The jury returned a verdict of accidental death by drowning. The Deputy-Coroner then called attention to the bravery of Edward Pilaster in trying to save the life of his friend, and said the character of the English schoolboy, as formed by such institutions as Windfield, was a thing of which we might justifiably feel proud.
5
MICKY MIRANDA WAS CAPTIVATED by Edward’s mother.
Augusta Pilaster was a tall, statuesque woman in her thirties. She had black hair and black eyebrows and a haughty, high-cheekboned face with a straight, sharp nose and a strong chin. She was not exactly beautiful, and certainly not pretty, but somehow that proud face was deeply fascinating. She wore a black coat and a black hat to the inquest, and that made her even more dramatic. And yet what was so bewitching was the unmistakable feeling she gave Micky that the formal clothes covered a voluptuous body, and the arrogant, imperious manner concealed a passionate nature. He could hardly take his eyes off her.
Beside her sat her husband Joseph, Edward’s father, an ugly, sour-faced man of about forty. He had the same big blade of a nose as Edward, and the same fair coloring, but his blond hair was receding, and he had bushy Dundreary side-whiskers sprouting from his cheeks as if to compensate for his baldness. Micky wondered what had made such a splendid woman marry him. He was very rich—perhaps that was it.
They were returning to the school in a carriage hired from the Station Hotel: Mr. and Mrs. Pilaster, Edward and Micky, and the headmaster, Dr. Poleson. Micky was amused to see that the headmaster was also bowled over by Augusta Pilaster. Old Pole asked if the inquest had tired her, inquired if she was comfortable in the carriage, ordered the coachman to go slower, and leaped out at the end of the journey to have the thrill of holding her hand as she stepped down. His bulldog face had never looked so animated.
The inquest had gone well. Micky put on his most open and honest expression to tell the story he and Edward had made up, but inside he had been scared. The British could be very sanctimonious about telling the truth, and if he was found out he would be in deep trouble. But the court was so enchanted by the story of schoolboy heroism that no one questioned it. Edward was nervous, and stammered his evidence, but the coroner excused him, suggesting that he was distraught over his failure to save Peter’s life, and insisting he should not blame himself.
None of the other boys was asked to the inquest. Hugh had been taken away from the school on the day of the drowning because of the death of his father. Tonio was not asked to give evidence because nobody knew he had witnessed the death: Micky had scared him into silence. The other witness, the unknown boy at the far end of the pool, had not come forward.
Peter Middleton’s parents were too grief-stricken to attend. They sent their lawyer, a sleepy-eyed old man whose only object was to get the whole thing over with a minimum of fuss. Peter’s older brother David was there, and became quite agitated when the lawyer declined to ask Micky or Edward any questions, but to Micky’s relief the old man waved aside his whispered protests. Micky was thankful for his laziness. He was ready for cross-examination, but Edward might have crumbled.
In the head’s dusty drawing room Mrs. Pilaster embraced Edward and kissed the wound on his forehead where Tonio’s stone had hit him. “My poor dear child,” she said. Micky and Edward had not told anyone that Tonio had thrown a stone at Edward, for then they would have to explain why he did it. Instead they had said that Edward banged his head when he dived in to rescue Peter.
As they drank their tea, Micky saw a new side to Edward. His mother, sitting beside him on the sofa, touched him constantly and called him Teddy. Instead of being embarrassed, as most boys would, he seemed to like it, and kept giving her a winning little smile that Micky had never seen before. She’s stupid about him, Micky thought, and he loves it.
After a few minutes of small talk Mrs. Pilaster stood up abruptly, startling the men, who scrambled to their feet. “I’m sure you want to smoke, Dr. Poleson,” she said. Without waiting for a reply she went on: “Mr. Pilaster will take a turn around the garden with you. Teddy dear, go with your father. I should like to have a few quiet minutes in the chapel. Perhaps Micky would show me the way.”
“By all means, by all means, by all means,” the head stuttered, falling over himself in his eagerness to assent to this series of commands. “Off you go, Miranda.”
Micky was impressed. How effortlessly she made them all do her bidding! He held the door for her and followed her out.
In the hall he said politely: “Would you like a parasol, Mrs. Pilaster? The sun is quite strong.”
“No, thank you.”
They went outside. There were a lot of boys hanging around outside the head’s house. Micky guessed that word had got around about Pilaster’s stunning mother, and they had all come to catch a glimpse of her. Feeling pleased to be her escort, he led her through a series of courtyards and quadrangles to the school chapel. “Shall I wait outside for you?” he offered.
“Come inside. I want to talk to you.”
He began to feel nervous. His pleasure in escorting a striking mature woman around the school started to fade, and he wondered why she wanted to interview him alone.
The chapel was empty. She took a back pew and invited him to sit beside her. Looking straight into his eyes, she said: “Now tell me the truth.”
*
Augusta saw the flash of surprise and fear in the boy’s expression and knew that she was right.
However, he recovered in an instant. “I’ve already told you the truth,” he said.
She shook her head. “You have not.”
He smiled.
The smile took her by surprise. She had caught him out; she knew he was on the defensive; yet he could smile at her. Few men could resist the force of her will, but it seemed he was exceptional, despite his youth. “How old are you?” she said.
“Sixteen.”
She studied him. He was outrageously good-looking, with his curly dark-brown hair and smooth skin, although there was already a hint of decadence in the heavy-lidded eyes and full lips. He reminded her somewhat of the earl of Strang, with his poise and good looks…. She pushed that thought aside with a guilty pang. “Peter Middleton was not in difficulties when you arrived at the pool,” she said. “He was swimming around quite happily.”
“What makes you say this?” he said coolly.
He was scared, she sensed, but he maintained his composure. He was really quite remarkably mature. She found herself unwillingly showing more of her hand. “You’re forgetting that Hugh Pilaster was there,” she said. “He is my nephew. His father took his own life last week, as you probably heard, and that is why he isn’t here. But he has spoken to his mother, who is my sister-in-law.”
“What did he say?”
Augusta frowned. “He said that Edward threw Peter’s clothes into the water,” she said reluctantly. She did not really understand why Teddy would do such a thing.
“And then?”
Augusta smiled. This boy was taking control of the conversation. She was supposed to be questioning him, but instead he was interrogating her. “Just tell me what really happened,” she said.
He nodded. “Very well.”
When he said that, Augusta was relieved, but worried as well. She wanted to know the truth, but she feared what it might be. Poor Teddy—he had almost died, as a baby, because there had been something wrong with Augusta’s breast milk, and he nearly wasted away before the doctors discovered the nature of the problem and proposed a wet nurse. Ever since then he had been vulnerable, needing her special protection. Had she had her way he would not have gone to boarding school, but his father had been intransigent about that…. She returned her attention to Micky.
“Edward didn’t mean any harm,” Micky began. “He was just ragging. He threw the other boys’ clothes into the water as a joke.”
Augusta nodded. That sounded normal to her: boys teasing one another. Poor Teddy must have suffered that sort of thing himself.
“Then Hugh pushed Edward in.”
“That little Hugh has always been a troublemaker,” Augusta said. “He’s just like his wretched father was.” And like his father he would probably come to a bad end, she thought to herself.
“The other boys all laughed, and Edward pushed Peter’s head under, to teach him a lesson. Hugh ran off. Then Tonio threw a stone at Edward.”
Augusta was horrified. “But he might have been knocked unconscious, and drowned!”
“However, he wasn’t, and he went chasing after Tonio. I was watching them: no one was looking at Peter Middleton. Tonio got away from Edward eventually. That was when we noticed that Peter had gone quiet. We don’t really know what happened to him: perhaps Edward’s ducking exhausted him, so that he was too tired or too breathless to get out of the pool. Anyway, he was floating facedown. We got him out of the water right away, but he was dead.”
It was hardly Edward’s fault, Augusta thought. Boys were always rough with one another. All the same she was deeply grateful that this story had not come out at the inquest. Micky had covered up for Edward, thank heavens. “What about the other boys?” she said. “They must know what happened.”
“It was lucky that Hugh left the school that very day.”
“And the other one—did you call him Tony?”
“Antonio Silva. Tonio for short. Don’t worry about him. He’s from my country. He’ll do as I tell him.”
“How can you be sure?”
“He knows that if he gets me into trouble, his family will suffer back home.”
There was something chilling in the boy’s voice as he said this, and Augusta shivered.
“May I fetch you a shawl?” Micky said attentively.
Augusta shook her head. “No other boys saw what happened?”
Micky frowned. “There was another boy swimming in the pool when we got there.”
“Who?”
He shook his head. “I couldn’t see his face, and I didn’t know it was going to be important.”
“Did he see what happened?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure at what point he left.”
“But he had gone by the time you got the body out of the water.”
“Yes.”
“I wish we knew who it was,” Augusta said anxiously.
“He may not even have been a schoolboy,” Micky pointed out. “He could be from the town. Anyway, for whatever reason, he hasn’t come forward as a witness, so I suppose he’s no danger to us.”
No danger to us. It struck Augusta that she was involved with this boy in something dishonest, possibly illegal. She did not like the situation. She had got into it without realizing, and now she was trapped. She looked hard at him and said: “What do you want?”
She caught him off guard for the first time. Looking bewildered, he said: “What do you mean?”
“You covered up for my son. You committed perjury today.” He was unbalanced by her directness, she saw. That pleased her: she was in control again. “I don’t believe you took such a risk out of the goodness of your heart. I think you want something in return. Why don’t you just tell me what it is?”
She saw his gaze drop momentarily to her bosom, and for a wild moment she thought he was going to make an indecent suggestion. Then he said: “I want to spend the summer with you.”
She had not expected that. “Why?”
“My home is six weeks’ journey away. I have to stay at school during the holidays. I hate it—it’s lonely and boring. I’d like to be invited to spend the summer with Edward.”
Suddenly he was a schoolboy again. She had thought he would ask for money, or perhaps a job at Pilasters Bank. But this seemed such a small, almost childish request. However, it clearly was not small to him. After all, she thought, he is only sixteen.
“You shall stay with us for the summer, and welcome,” she said. The thought did not displease her. He was a rather formidable young man in some ways, but his manners were perfect and he was good-looking: it would be no hardship to have him as a guest. And he might be a good influence on Edward. If Teddy had a fault it was that he was rather aimless. Micky was just the opposite. Perhaps some of his strength of will would rub off on her Teddy.
Micky smiled, showing white teeth. “Thank you,” he said. He seemed sincerely delighted.
She felt an urge to be alone for a while and mull over what she had heard. “Leave me now,” she said. “I can find my way back to the headmaster’s house.”
He got up from the pew. “I’m very grateful,” he said, and offered his hand.
She took it. “I’m grateful to you, for protecting Teddy.”
He bent down, as if he were going to kiss her hand; and then, to her astonishment, he kissed her lips. It was so quick that she had no time to turn away. She searched for words of protest as he straightened up, but she could not think what to say. A moment later he was gone.
It was outrageous! He should not have kissed her at all, let alone on the lips. Who did he think he was? Her first thought was to rescind the summer invitation. But that would never do.
Why not? she asked herself. Why could she not cancel an invitation extended to a mere schoolboy? He had acted presumptuously, so he should not come to stay.
But the thought of going back on her promise made her uncomfortable. It was not just that Micky had saved Teddy from disgrace, she realized. It was worse than that. She had entered into a criminal conspiracy with him. It made her unpleasantly vulnerable to him.
She sat in the cool chapel for a long time, staring at the bare walls and wondering, with a distinct feeling of apprehension, how that handsome, knowing boy would use his power.