Only Time Will Tell (The Clifton Chronicles, #1)(89)

‘Yes, of course.’

‘Did you have Harry and me followed when we travelled up to Scotland?’

‘Yes, I did, Giles. I was desperate to find out where your mother and Emma were so I could apologize to them for my disgraceful behaviour. Please try to forgive me.’

Everyone turned their attention to Emma, who hadn’t yet spoken. When she did, her words took them all by surprise. ‘You’ll have to tell Harry everything you’ve told us,’ she whispered, ‘and if he is willing to forgive you, you must then welcome him into our family.’

‘I would be delighted to welcome him into the family, my darling, although it would be understandable if he never wanted to speak to me again. But I cannot tell him the truth about what happened to his father.’

‘Why not?’ demanded Emma.

‘Because Harry’s mother has made it clear that she does not want him ever to find out how his father died, as he has been brought up to believe he was a brave man who was killed in the war. Up until this moment, I have kept my promise never to reveal to anyone what took place on that dreadful day.’

Elizabeth Barrington rose, walked across to her husband and kissed him gently. Barrington broke down and sobbed. A moment later Giles joined his parents and placed an arm around his father’s shoulders.

Emma didn’t move.





42


‘HAS YOUR MOTHER always been that good-looking?’ said Giles. ‘Or am I just getting older?’

‘I’ve no idea,’ said Harry. ‘All I can say is that your mother always looks so elegant.’

‘Much as I love the dear creature, she looks positively prehistoric compared to yours,’ said Giles as Elizabeth Barrington, parasol in one hand and handbag in the other, bore down upon them.

Giles, like every other boy, had been dreading what outfit his mother might turn up in. As for the selection of hats, it was worse than Ascot, with every mother and daughter trying to outdo each other.

Harry looked more carefully at his mother, who was chatting to Dr Paget. He had to admit that she was attracting more attention than most of the other mothers, which he found a little embarrassing. But he was pleased that she no longer appeared to be burdened by financial worries, and assumed the man standing on her right had something to do with that.

However grateful he was to Mr Atkins, he didn’t care for the idea of him becoming his stepfather. Mr Barrington may in the past have been over-zealous about his daughter, but Harry could not deny that he felt just as protective when it came to his mother.

She had recently told him that Mr Frampton was so pleased with her work at the hotel that he had promoted her to night supervisor and given her another pay rise. And certainly Harry no longer had to wait for his trousers to be too short before they were replaced. But even he had been surprised when she hadn’t commented about the cost of his travelling to Rome with the Arts Appreciation Society.

‘How nice to see you, Harry, on your day of triumph,’ said Mrs Barrington. ‘Two prizes, if I remember correctly. I’m only sorry that Emma can’t be with us to share in your glory, but as Miss Webb pointed out, her gels cannot be expected to take the morning off for someone else’s speech day, even if her brother is the school captain.’

Mr Barrington came across to join them, and Giles watched his father carefully as he shook hands with Harry. There was still a distinct lack of warmth on his father’s part, although no one could deny that he was making every effort to conceal it.

‘So, when are you expecting to hear from Oxford, Harry?’ asked Barrington.

‘Some time next week, sir.’

‘I’m confident they’ll offer you a place, although I suspect it will be a close-run thing for Giles.’

‘Don’t forget he’s also had his moment of glory,’ said Harry.

‘I don’t recall that,’ said Mrs Barrington.

‘I think Harry’s referring to the century I scored at Lord’s, Mama.’

‘Admirable though that might be, for the life of me I can’t see how it will help you get into Oxford,’ said his father.

‘Normally I would agree with you, Papa,’ said Giles, ‘were it not for the fact that the Professor of History was sitting next to the President of the MCC at the time.’

The laughter that followed was drowned out by the sound of bells. The boys began to move rapidly in the direction of the great hall, with their parents following dutifully a few paces behind them.

Giles and Harry took their places among the prefects and prize-winners in the front three rows.

‘Do you recall our first day at St Bede’s?’ said Harry, ‘when we all sat in the front row, quite terrified of Dr Oakshott?’

‘I was never terrified of the Shot,’ said Giles.

‘No, of course you weren’t,’ said Harry.

‘But I do remember when we came down for breakfast on the first morning that you licked your porridge bowl.’

‘And I remember you swore you’d never mention it again,’ whispered Harry.

‘And I promise I never will again,’ replied Giles not whispering. ‘What was the name of that frightful bully who slippered you on our first night?’

‘Fisher,’ said Harry. ‘And it was the second night.’