Best Kept Secret (The Clifton Chronicles, #3)(22)

‘Don’t underestimate Sebastian. He’s already halfway there.’





7


HARRY AND EMMA were surprised when they were invited to join the headmaster for tea at the end of Sebastian’s first term, and quickly discovered it was not a social occasion.

‘Your son’s a bit of a loner,’ declared Dr Hedley, once the maid had poured them a cup of tea and left the room. ‘In fact he’s more likely to befriend a boy from overseas than one who’s lived in Bristol all his life.’

‘Why would that be?’ asked Emma.

‘Boys from far-flung shores have never heard of Mr and Mrs Harry Clifton, or his famous uncle Giles,’ explained the headmaster. ‘But, as is so often the case, something positive has come out of it because we’ve become aware that Sebastian has a natural gift for languages that in normal circumstances might have been missed. In fact, he is the only boy in the school who can converse with Lu Yang in his native tongue.’

Harry laughed, but Emma noticed that the headmaster wasn’t smiling.

‘However,’ Dr Hedley continued, ‘there may be a problem when it comes to Sebastian sitting his entrance exam for Bristol Grammar School.’

‘But he came top in English, French and Latin,’ said Emma proudly.

‘And he scored one hundred per cent in maths,’ Harry reminded the headmaster.

‘True, and all very commendable, but unfortunately, at the same time, he languishes near the bottom of his class in history, geography and natural sciences, all of which are compulsory subjects. Should he fail to reach the pass mark in two or more of these, he will automatically be rejected by BGS, which I know would be a great disappointment for both of you, as well as his uncle.’

‘Great disappointment would be an understatement,’ said Harry.

‘Quite so,’ said Dr Hedley.

‘Do they ever make exceptions to the rules?’ asked Emma.

‘I can only recall one case in my tenure,’ said the headmaster, ‘and that was for a boy who had scored a century every Saturday during the summer term.’

Harry laughed, having sat on the grass and watched Giles score every one of them. ‘So we’ll just have to make sure he realizes the consequences of dropping below the pass mark in two of the compulsory subjects.’

‘It’s not that he isn’t bright enough,’ said the headmaster, ‘but if a subject doesn’t appeal to him, he quickly becomes bored. The irony is, with his talent for languages, I predict he’ll sail into Oxford. But we still have to make sure he paddles into BGS.’



After a little coaxing from his father, and some considerable bribery from his grandmother, Sebastian managed to climb a few places off the bottom in two of the three compulsory subjects. He’d worked out that he was permitted to fail one, and chose natural sciences.

By the end of Sebastian’s second year, the headmaster felt confident that with a little more effort the boy would obtain the necessary pass mark in five of the six exam subjects. He too had given up on natural sciences. Harry and Emma were beginning to feel more hopeful, but still tried to keep Sebastian up to the mark. And indeed, the headmaster might have proved right in his optimistic assessment, had it not been for two incidents that occurred during Sebastian’s final year.





8


‘IS THAT YOUR father’s book?’

Sebastian looked at a pile of novels stacked neatly in the window of the bookshop. A sign above them read, Nothing Gained by Harry Clifton, 3s 6d. The latest adventure of William Warwick.

‘Yes,’ said Sebastian proudly. ‘Would you like one?’

‘Yes, please,’ said Lu Yang.

Sebastian strolled into the shop, followed by his friend. A table near the front was piled high with his father’s latest hardback, surrounded by paperbacks of The Case of the Blind Witness and Nothing Ventured, the first two novels in the William Warwick series.

Sebastian handed Lu Yang a copy of each of the three books. They were quickly joined by several of his classmates, and he gave each of them a copy of the latest book, and in some cases the other two as well. The pile was rapidly diminishing when a middle-aged man charged out from behind the counter, grabbed Sebastian by the collar and dragged him away.

‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he shouted.

‘It’s all right,’ said Sebastian, ‘they’re my father’s books!’

‘Now I’ve heard everything,’ said the manager as he marched Sebastian, who was protesting with every stride, towards the back of the shop. He turned to an assistant and said, ‘Call the police. I caught this thief red-handed. Then see if you can retrieve the books his friends ran off with.’

The manager shoved Sebastian into his office and dumped him firmly on to an old horsehair sofa.

‘Don’t even think about moving,’ he said as he left the office, closing the door firmly behind him.

Sebastian heard a key turning in the lock. He stood up, walked across to the manager’s desk and picked up a book, then sat back down and began reading. He’d reached page nine, and was getting to quite like Richard Hannay, when the door opened and the manager returned with a triumphant smirk on his face.

‘There he is, chief inspector, I caught the lad red-handed.’