Only Time Will Tell (The Clifton Chronicles, #1)(69)

‘No idea,’ said Harry. ‘I’m not going to ask Mr Deakins until the day before I go back to school.’

Old Jack wasn’t sure how to tell the boy that six shillings wasn’t going to be enough to buy a watch, so he changed the subject. ‘I hope the paper round isn’t stopping you from studying. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that the exams are getting closer by the day.’

‘You’re worse than the Frob,’ said Harry, ‘but you’ll be pleased to learn that I’m spending two hours every morning in the library with Deakins, and another two most afternoons.’

‘Most afternoons?’

‘Well, Giles and I do occasionally go to the flicks, and as Gloucestershire are playing Yorkshire at the county ground next week, it will be a chance to see Herbert Sutcliffe batting.’

‘You’ll miss Giles when he goes to Eton,’ said Old Jack.

‘He’s still working on his father to let him join me and Deakins at BGS.’

‘Deakins and me,’ said Old Jack. ‘And be warned, if Mr Hugo has made up his mind, it will take more than Giles to shift him.’

‘Mr Barrington doesn’t like me,’ said Harry, taking Old Jack by surprise.

‘What makes you say that?’

‘He treats me differently from the other boys at St Bede’s. It’s as if I’m not good enough to be a friend of his son.’

‘You’re going to have to face that problem all your life, Harry,’ said Old Jack. ‘The English are the biggest snobs on earth, and most of the time without reason. The lesser the talent, the bigger the snob, in my experience. It’s the only way the so-called upper classes can hope to survive. Be warned, my boy, they don’t care for upstarts like you who barge into their club without an invitation.’

‘But you don’t treat me like that,’ said Harry.

‘That’s because I’m not upper class,’ said Old Jack, laughing.

‘Perhaps not, but my mum says you’re first class,’ said Harry, ‘so that’s what I want to be.’

It didn’t help that Old Jack couldn’t tell Harry the real reason Mr Hugo was always so offhand. He sometimes wished he hadn’t been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and witnessed what had really happened the day the boy’s father died.

‘Have you fallen asleep again, old man?’ said Harry. ‘Because I can’t hang around chatting to you all day. I promised my mum I’d meet her at Clarks in the Broad because she wants to buy me a new pair of shoes. Not that I can see what’s wrong with the pair I’ve got.’

‘Special lady, your mum,’ said Old Jack.

‘That’s why I’m buying her a watch,’ said Harry.





The bell above the door rang as he entered the shop. Old Jack hoped that enough time had passed to ensure that Private Deakins wouldn’t remember him.

‘Good morning, sir. How can I help you?’

Old Jack couldn’t fail to recognize Mr Deakins immediately. He smiled and walked across to the display cabinet and studied the two watches on the top shelf. ‘I just need to know the price of this Ingersoll.’

‘The lady’s or the gentleman’s model, sir?’ asked Mr Deakins, coming out from behind the counter.

‘The lady’s,’ said Old Jack.

Deakins unlocked the cabinet with his one hand, deftly removed the watch from its stand, checked the label and said, ‘Sixteen shillings, sir.’

‘Good,’ said Old Jack, and placed a ten-bob note on the counter. Mr Deakins looked even more puzzled. ‘When Harry Clifton asks you how much the watch is, Mr Deakins, please tell him it’s six shillings, because that’s how much he will have saved by the time he stops working for you, and I know he’s hoping to buy it as a present for his mother.’

‘You must be Old Jack,’ said Deakins. ‘He’ll be so touched that you . . .’

‘But you won’t ever tell him,’ said Old Jack, looking Mr Deakins in the eye. ‘I want him to believe that the price of the watch is six shillings.’

‘I understand,’ said Mr Deakins, placing the watch back on the stand.

‘And how much is the man’s watch?’

‘One pound.’

‘Would you allow me to put down another ten bob as a deposit, and then give you half a crown a week for the next month until I’ve paid off the full amount?’

‘That is quite acceptable, sir. But wouldn’t you like to try it on first?’

‘No, thank you,’ said Old Jack. ‘It’s not for me. I’m going to give it to Harry when he wins a scholarship to Bristol Grammar School.’

‘I had the same thought,’ said Mr Deakins, ‘should my son Algy be fortunate enough to win one.’

‘Then you’d better order another one pretty quickly,’ said Old Jack, ‘because Harry tells me your son’s a racing certainty.’

Mr Deakins laughed, and took a closer look at Old Jack. ‘Have we met before, sir?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Old Jack, and left the shop without another word.





31


IF MUHAMMAD WON’T COME to the mountain . . . Old Jack smiled to himself as he rose to greet Mr Holcombe and offered him a seat.