Chapter 2

Rory

I could hardly believe it. A special assembly had been called on the Monday of the eighth week of term. All the classes filed into the main hall wondering what this was all about. Some people thought someone had blotted their copybook and was going to be expelled. It was more shocking than that however, as our head teacher, looking very solemn announced that over the weekend there had been a tragic climbing accident in Scotland in which one of our most recent former pupils had been seriously injured. When he announced that it was Tom McFarlane who had just started studying at Edinburgh University, there was a great gasp of shock from many of us.

Tom had been a pretty popular guy. Though a member of the richest family in our area he was never a snob. He had been head boy and was very approachable to those who had problems and he even stopped to exchange pleasantries with wimps like me. The Head told us that he was in a coma in a hospital in the highlands and was shortly to be taken by helicopter to an intensive care unit in Glasgow's Southern General Hospital This was one of Britain's leading hospitals for serious head injuries. We were asked to pray for him and his family at this time. I did not think I would do much good in that department, I don't think me and God were on speaking terms if he existed and I was not sure that he did.

I looked around to see how the lady of my dreams was taking this announcement. Stupid me! She wasn't there of course. Obviously she would have gone with her father and mother to be at her brother's bedside at a time like this. I shared a bit of her sorrow, for I had liked Tom and he had inadvertently made it possible for me to use my computer hacking skills to increase my bank balance. I knew a lot of people would mourn his passing if this proved fatal.

Tom was a bright guy and everybody felt confident that when the time came for him to succeed his father the business would be in capable hands. Now if something happened to his father there was only his sister to succeed her old man. As far as I was concerned she was a social butterfly and no great shakes in the brain department. God help the town if its future depended on her or her mother for that matter. She was a nice woman and did a lot for the town through her charitable work, but a business woman she was not.

More sad news came our way the other day. We were told at another assembly that Tom McFarlane had died without recovering consciousness. His funeral was to be later on in the week and the school would be closed that day. I decided that I would go to the funeral service in his church. Hey, I kind of liked the guy and even though he did not know it he helped me financially and by recognising my existence took a lot of pressure off me. I went along early because I knew the church would be packed and I took a seat right at the back and tried to look invisible. I think this would be my first visit to a church since my dad's Funeral and that was many years ago. In fact I was so young I have no recollection of it.

Anyway, the church filled up and by the time the service started people were standing in the aisles and the service was being relayed to people who could not get in at all. I will say this for the preacher, he did Tom proud. He obviously knew him well and proclaimed his virtues and emphasised the great loss not only for the family, but to the town and its future. It occurred to me as I listened, that what the vicar said was in fact true.

There are not too many people in any community of whom you can say they were liked by all who knew them and whose passing was a sad loss for a whole community. Sitting there however, I realised the pastor spoke the truth when he said it of Tom. As they followed the coffin out his family looked stunned. My lady in her black outfit was tragically beautiful and her eyes were red with tears. I guess she loved him too.

As I made my way home I was feeling a bit depressed. Then as the cortege came towards me some impulse made me stop and I stood there with head bowed till it passed. I thought gee, I hardly knew the guy and if it affects me like this it must be totally devastating to his family. A bright light had just been snuffed out while thousands of bad guys were still running around. I heard someone say once that God moves in mysterious ways. "Well if he exists," I thought, "then that little maxim is certainly true."

Rebecca

The Monday after my talk with my dad I had Maths first two periods. Since there was an interval between this and my next two classes, I stopped to talk to my maths teacher Miss Gallaher. She was head of the Maths Department. Everybody knew that she was a Lezzie and her long term partner, a stunning blond, was also employed by the education department as an educational psychologist. They were both good looking young woman.

As Miss Gallaher was a very approachable person. I stayed behind and asked to speak with her, but said I would understand if she did not have time now and make arrangements to see her at some other opportunity. She gave me a sympathetic smile and said that she I could have the whole fifteen minutes of the interval. Once she had expressed her sadness at the passing of my brother she asked me what I wanted to speak to her about. I outlined my problem and asked if she could suggest any way that I could get help to get my grades up.

She looked at me thoughtfully for a moment or two, and then asked if there were other subjects in which I needed the same kind of help. I smiled at her and told her most of them. She said that the easiest way would probably be to hire tutors which she believed my family could well afford. Then she paused and looked at me with a curious expression on her face and said that it would involve a lot of tutors and a lot of extra time.

Then she seemed to have an idea and her face lit up with a smile and said that it was just possible she could come up with an alternative. She went on to make a suggestion to me and said that if I took her up on it, I would probably be helping someone else at the same time. It would also cut down drastically the number of tutors I would need.

At first I thought she was going to suggest herself but then I thought she did not need any help from me. This made me wonder about what she was going to suggest. After a pause she asked if I knew Rory McGregor. I almost said that everybody knew the wimp even if not many people talked to him. But I knew that he had helped my brother with computer problems and that my brother respected him. He had found him very helpful and talked to him and went to him if he had computing problems. I did not have anything against Rory, he was a loner. It was just that everybody referred to him as the wimp.

"As if she had read my thoughts she said,

"I know that a lot of people regard him as a wimp, but he is also one of the brightest young men I have ever encountered in the whole of my teaching career."

She went on to say that often people like him who had an IQ that was almost off the scale were odd in their behaviour and had difficulty relating to others. But she assured me he was a genius and could probably go to University now if he had parents who were pushy enough to have him tested out.

"As it is," she said, "his dad is dead and his mother probably does not appreciate just how clever her son is. He sometimes talks to me about advanced mathematics and I have to go home and read up on it before I can have an intelligent conversation with him. Furthermore he is the same in all his subjects and would be a single tutor who could help me with all my problems."

Then she smiled and told me that she was sure that if a beautiful young woman like me approached him and asked him for his help, he would certainly consider giving it once he recovered from the shock and other effects that I might have on him. He would jump at the chance to be near me, she had told me as he seemed to have a bit of a crush on me.

I nearly giggled at that, for I knew what she was implying. I had seen him ogling me in the classes that we had together. I thanked her for her help and said I would think about it. Before leaving I asked if she thought I should offer him payment. She told me she was not sure about that. I should approach him first then play it by ear was her advice.

When I got back outside there was still a few minutes of the interval left and my best friend, Marjorie Brown was waiting for me. People often wondered why we were such close friends because she was one of those people who always said what she thought and at times her remarks could be pretty ribald. I on the other hand without being a prude was much more reserved, proper and ladylike. In reality we were foils for one another. She could shock me and make me laugh and I could keep her in check and stop her from going over the score.

"How did you get on with our lezzie?" She asked. I told her about Miss Gallaher's suggestion.

"The wimp," she said, with a laugh, and then she thought for a moment and went on, "You know she has a point. He is top in every class and when the prize giving comes around the only question is who is going to be second and third. First prize in almost everything is his. I will tell you something else my girl, though it probably won't mean anything to a miss prim and proper like you, my cousin says he is hung like a horse."

"And just how does your cousin know that?" I asked.

She giggled and said, "Her twin brother shares gym class and swimming class with him and he has seen him naked and she heard him speaking about it to a friend. Maybe if you get him to tutor you would be able to confirm that for us."

I put on my most lady like manner and haughtily replied,

"Miss Brown the things he is going to be tutoring me in are of an academic nature and will not tell me anything about his sexual apparatus."

Marjory giggled again and said,

"Oh I don't know about that. If he is hovering over your shoulder to look at your work and gets a glimpse of that cleavage, then I believe the result of that would be very evident for all to see."

I giggled and said, "Marjory Brown will you get your thoughts above your navel, you are a disgustingly lewd woman. But if that happens I will take a purely scientific interest in the result and let you know in due course."

At that we both burst out laughing and made our way to our next class.

Rory

Something strange is going on. I have confessed to my ogling Miss Lady of the Manor, but this afternoon I think I have caught her staring at me a few times and looking thoughtful. It's very unsettling and interfering with my pleasure. Usually I am invisible and can stare at whomsoever I like and they never notice. I have never had the feeling before that somebody is staring at me. One thing is certain it can't be my manly good looks and I am sure I haven't done anything to offend her or make her notice me. It makes me feel guilty in case she knows more about my behaviour towards her than I think she does. But I don't think so. Miss high and mighty would not stoop to noticing a wimp like me. All the same, the fact that she seems to be taking notice of me makes me feel uneasy.

Rebecca

Since Miss Gallaher spoke to me this morning, I have been taking more notice of our little wimp. But really he is not that little. He is tall and skinny and not all that bad looking. I do believe that with proper grooming he would clean up rather well and even make a passable escort to some function or other. I think he has caught me staring at him once or twice today and it is making him feel uneasy. I bet the little sod is wondering if I am going to tear a strip off him for the way he stares at me.

There I go again calling him little when I bet he is actually close to six feet in his shoes, and if Marjory is right, I thought with a giggle, he is not so little in other places either. I think I will run Miss Gallaher's suggestion past my father and see what he thinks. After all he is to be my supervisor in this new learning process. If he thinks I should approach Rory, and I better start thinking of him as Rory, or I might slip up and call him a wimp and that would not do at all.

Just then unbidden, thoughts of what my father had told me about his relationship with my mother slipped into my mind, and a wicked voice said in my ear, that maybe calling him wimp would in fact make things more interesting and put my possible tutor into the role I would like him to be in. I pulled myself together and said; "where in the hell did that thought come from. Get a grip Rebecca McFarlane."

Rory.

When I got home from school today, I was feeling so rattled that over our evening meal my mother asked me if anything was wrong. Mum knew I lacked social skills and did not find it easy to get on with people. She had thought I might be autistic or have Asperger syndrome and had got me an appointment with a clinical psychologist. After a few meetings with me he had called us both in. He told my mum she had nothing to worry about.