Espresso Tales - Alexander Hanchett Smith [71]
“I’m sorry I wrote you that letter,” he said. “I haven’t got an infectious disease, you know.”
“Don’t worry,” she said. “I didn’t think for one moment that you had. The important thing is that you should be happy. And you’ve said sorry to me, which is very important.” She paused.
“You will be happy here, you know, Bertie. It’s a very happy school.”
Bertie thought for a moment. She was right. He did feel happier here than in the din and rush of Watson’s, with all those hundreds of boys and girls with names he would never remember. Rugby was not for him, he decided, and it was a good thing that there was no rugby at Steiner’s. It was fine for Mr Gavin Hastings to play it, he thought, but he, Bertie, would find something else to do. Even learning Italian was better than rugby.
Later that day, as he waited for his mother at the school gate, Tofu came up to him and asked him where he had found those boots. “Great boots,” he said.
“Would you like them?” said Bertie nonchalantly. “You can have them if you like.”
Tofu accepted gratefully. “Thanks, Bertie,” he said. “You’re a real pal.”
“And would you like me to bring a ham sandwich in tomorrow?” asked Bertie.
“Yes, yes,” said Tofu quickly. “Two, even. If you can spare them.”
“Fine,” said Bertie.
Tofu slapped him on the back in a friendly manner and went on his way.
Dinner with Father
147
Bertie watched him walk away and thought about the events of the day. There had been several discoveries. One was that rugby was a rough game and another was that Jock was a false friend. But there were other things to reflect upon. Tofu was no longer a threat – and could even become a friend. And he suspected, too, that he might be happy at this nice school, which was a good place – even if it had been his mother’s choice. After all, there were some things which she might just get right.
45. Dinner with Father
If Bertie’s problem was with his mother, Irene – and that would seem to be the case – then Matthew’s problem was with his father, Gordon. Irene and Gordon would not have seen eye to eye on anything very much, but, in their own ways, they had each succeeded in bringing unhappiness into the lives of their offspring. So, while Bertie was trapped by a mother who was relentlessly ambitious for him, Matthew was aware that his father nursed no ambitions for him whatsoever. Gordon had decided that his son was a failure, and had come to accept this. The gallery in which he had set him up was not intended to be anything but a sinecure, a place to sit during the day while the rest of the world went to work. And if this was an expensive arrangement – for Gordon – then it was an expense which he could easily afford to bear.
Matthew had accepted his father’s offer simply because it was the only one on hand. He understood that he was not a good businessman, but one had to do something, and running the gallery had proved rather more interesting than he had anticipated. This interest had made up for the discomfort that he felt over his father’s writing him off. It is not easy to accept another’s low opinion of oneself, and there were times when Matthew longed to show his father that he was made of sterner and more successful stuff. The problem, though, was that if 148 Dinner with Father
he tried to do this, he thought it highly likely that he would fail.
Now Matthew was preparing for an evening with his father. Gordon had called in at the gallery unannounced and invited his son to dinner to meet his new friend, Janis, who owned a flower shop. As he stood before the mirror and tied his tie, Matthew thought of what he might say to this woman, whose motives were, in his view, perfectly clear. It would be good to indicate to her that he understood exactly what was going on, and that no gold-digger could fool him. But how to do this?
One could not say anything direct, especially since the dinner was taking place at the New