Chapter 14

Rather as Toby had feared, when he arrived home after what seemed like an interminably long journey when made alone, he found that the results of his ‘A’ level examinations had been delivered during his absence. His mother thrust the envelope into his hand as he walked through the door.

‘My you’re brown. Did you have a good time? These came two days ago and I’ve been dying to open the envelope but your father wouldn’t let me,’ was the greeting that he received.

‘Hello, Mum. Yes, I had a marvellous time thank you. Oh, God, I don’t want to open that. Listen, I’m simply dying to go to the bathroom.’

As he walked upstairs, suitcase in one hand and the dreaded envelope in the other, Toby realised that his mouth had gone dry, a knot of apprehension had formed in the pit of his stomach and his heart was beating uncomfortably in his chest. The moment of reckoning was at hand and he knew it. He went to the toilet and as he was washing his hands afterwards he noticed that they were shaking slightly. He came out of the bathroom to find his mother waiting expectantly on the landing.

‘Have you opened it yet?’

‘No, not yet. Now look Mum, I’ve already told you that I’m not expecting good news. To me this is the equivalent of receiving one of those dreadful telegrams from the War Office telling you that someone had been killed in action during World War II.

‘Silly boy,’ she said, patting him affectionately on the arm and thinking how handsome he looked with a sun tan.

‘If it’s OK with you I’d rather open them alone,’ he looked at her pleadingly and shrugging her shoulders in surprise she went downstairs to the kitchen.

Toby went into his bedroom and closed the door behind him. Sitting on the edge of his bed he ripped open the envelope with trembling fingers and took out the flimsy piece of paper.

‘Oh shit,’ he muttered to himself as his fears were confirmed, ‘I don’t think I’ll bother unpacking.’

He sat gazing numbly at the piece of paper in his nerveless fingers. His emotions ranged from despair to utter despair. He began to contemplate the alternatives that were open to him. Suicide? It sounded painful. Emigration? It sounded expensive. A monastery? Boring. Eventually he heaved himself to his feet with a deep sigh. Taking a pencil from a drawer in his desk he scribbled a terse note on the back of the envelope before slipping the results slip into his back pocket.

‘Dear Mum, I have gone to join the Foreign Legion. Will definitely remember to send a postcard this time. Thanks for everything. Love, Toby. x’

Opening his bedroom door a fraction he listened carefully and ascertained that his mother was busy in the kitchen. Picking up his suitcase he managed to cross the landing without a sound and tiptoed quietly down the stairs. As he had hoped, the car keys were on the hall table. He picked them up, left his note in their place, and slipped through the front door, apparently still undetected. Opening the car door he threw his suitcase inside and slid into the driver’s seat. After adjusting the mirror he prepared for a quick take-off. With one foot on the clutch, the other on the accelerator, the handbrake off and the car in gear, he turned the key in the ignition and slammed the door simultaneously. A couple of seconds later he was out of the drive and off up the lane. He heaved a sigh of relief.

Suddenly his mind went blank. Where was he going? He had been so intent upon escape that he had planned no further than the end of the lane. He sat at the junction, puzzling. Which way? Left or right? Suddenly his mind cleared, he indicated and pulled away from the stop sign.

‘Hello,’ he called. ‘ls there anybody in?’

‘There’s nobody here but us chickens,’ sang Jacqueline Stevenson’s musical voice from the direction of the kitchen, ‘Hi stranger, come on in.’

Toby walked through the hall, stopping on the way to admire a new landscape painting that had appeared since his last visit. Tom was fast becoming a collector. He went into the kitchen, pecked Jackie on the cheek and sat down on a chair by the table.

‘Did you have a nice time in Mallorca? You look very brown.’

‘Yes, lovely thank you. Listen, you don’t happen to have any rat poison handy, do you?’

‘Rat poison. No ... at least I don’t think so.’

‘Perhaps you know something about getting into the Foreign Legion?’

‘Nothing at all I’m afraid,’ she looked at him anxiously.

‘Do you know anything about fixing failed ‘A levels’ then?’ he asked, trying desperately to retain his air of flippancy. However, to his horror, his voice cracked and putting his hands to his face he began to cry.

Half a box of tissues later he managed to pull himself together and Jackie proffered him a glass of brandy which he sipped reluctantly with evident distaste. To her relief he seemed much better and after showing her his results slip he told her about the note and his escape. She immediately insisted that he should phone home and as a compromise he agreed to telephone his father at his office.

‘I thought that was where you’d probably gone,’ said Charles drily, ‘Your mother wanted to call the police and have them set up road blocks you know.’

‘Oh God. I’m awfully sorry.’

‘How bad is it old chap?’

Toby told him.

‘Well at least you passed English, so it wasn’t a total write-off,’ said his father.

‘I suppose that’s true, but now not only won’t I get a place at University, I can’t even fulfil the Law Society’s basic requirements. You can tell Uncle Bill that I shan’t be needing that desk in his broom cupboard.’

Mary Adamson had hoped that Toby would follow her brother into the illustrious firm of Huckworth, Drone and Bleasbury, Solicitors and Commissioners for Oaths. Bill had said that he would take his nephew into articles if he wasn’t able to obtain a place to study Law at University.

‘Yes, I’ll tell him,’ Charles laughed, ‘He’ll be rather relieved about that. He was saying only the other day that he wasn’t sure what he was going to do with the brushes, mops and buckets.’

‘Dad.’

‘Yes old son?’

‘Thanks for not exploding.’

‘What’s the point? One explosion in the family is quite sufficient.’

‘Oh Lord. Is it that bad?’

‘She’ll be all right. I’ll talk to her once we get off the phone.’

‘Dad, what in the hell am l going to do?’

‘I’ve got the odd idea. Want to come in and talk it over?’

‘Yes, OK.’

‘Give me about an hour. I’ve an appointment waiting and then I’ll do some phoning around.’

‘Thanks Dad. I’ll see you later.’

Toby put down the receiver and smiled at it, thinking to himself that his father was a brick. Suddenly he was aware of a delicious smell coming from the direction of the kitchen.

‘I hope you’re hungry,’ said Jackie, looking up at him and smiling warmly.

‘I’m ravenous as a matter of fact. I can hardly remember the last time I ate.’

‘Sit down at the table then. This lot will be ready in a couple of minutes.’

As he tucked into a huge plate of bacon, eggs and fried bread, Toby asked how Andrew, Natasha and Emma had fared in their examinations. Andrew had achieved academic excellence by obtaining grade ‘A’ passes in all his subjects so his place at Bristol to study architecture was assured. Natasha had done almost as well with top grade passes in both Biology and Chemistry and a grade ‘B’ in Physics, so there was no doubt that she would be accompanying her brother to the same University in the quest for a Bachelor of Science degree. Much to her surprise, Emma had passed Art, History of Art and English too, so her place to do a Foundation Course at Bristol Art College was a certainty.

‘Have you heard how Bruce got on?’

‘He passed everything, but his grades weren’t as good as he had hoped. Natasha says that he won’t get the place he had hoped for in Bristol, but I gather that Birmingham or Newcastle are interested in him.’

‘Coo, Bristol and Birmingham are a fair way apart but Newcastle’s even worse. They won’t like that.’

‘They’ve decided that if he gets into Birmingham then they’ll have to meet up here at the weekends,’ laughed Jackie, ‘They’ve got it all worked out. I’m delighted of course, because it means that I’ll still get to see something of my darling daughter during term-time.’

‘You’re funny about your family,’ chuckled Toby.

Jackie shook her head. ‘Not really. Just rather fond of them, that’s all. So, Toby Adamson, what are you going to do with yourself? Any contingency plans?’

‘Refuse collector? Park attendant? Lavatory man?’ hazarded Toby, ‘I don’t know really. Just at the moment I don’t care particularly. Just so long as I can find something to do that will keep Mum off my back.’

‘Oh dear, it’s really like that is it?’

‘No, I don’t know that it’ll be that bad to be honest. It’s just that she’s always laboured under the misapprehension that I’ve got a brain. I don’t know why though, because she hasn’t got one herself and I’ve always taken after that side of the family.’

Jackie roared with laughter, delighted to see that his sense of humour was still intact.

‘Oh, you awful boy,’ she gasped, ‘I’ll tell her you said that.’

‘A joke, only a joke,’ he said hastily and looked at his watch, ‘Listen, I’ve got to go into town to see Dad now. I’ll just have a pee and then I’ll be off. Thanks so much for the food and the moral support, Jackie.’

He stood up, went over and hugged her fiercely.

Toby poked his head round the edge of the door of his father’s office. Charles was leaning back in his swivel chair stoking his pipe.

‘Heavens,’ gasped his offspring entering the room and waving his arms about as if to dispel the clouds of smoke that were drifting in his direction, ‘I’m surprised that you don’t set off the sprinkler system with that thing.’

Charles Adamson laughed indulgently and gestured to a chair.

‘You’re looking fit and well. Did you have a good holiday?’

‘Oh yes, it was absolutely fantastic, thanks.’

‘What about the girl, are you keen on her?’