Battles Lost and Won (20 page)

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Authors: Beryl Matthews

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BOOK: Battles Lost and Won
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‘I don’t suppose they did,’ Steve remarked drily, looking at his daughter, who hadn’t said a word. ‘What do you think about this, Ruth?’

‘I think if Bob was in Canning Town, and couldn’t bother to come and see us, then I don’t care what he’s up to. I always loved and respected him, but not any more. He should at least have had the decency to keep in touch with us, but he just walked away. I’m sorry, Mr Hunter, but I don’t think I even like him now.’

‘Oh, Ruth.’ Daisy looked anxiously at Alf. ‘She doesn’t mean it. She’s just upset.’

But Ruth was adamant. ‘If he turned up now I wouldn’t have anything to do with him.’

Twenty-Three

It was pouring with rain when Bob arrived back in Richmond. When he had first arrived he had stayed in digs for several months, but when it became clear that he was going to stay, he rented the top floor of a house in the same road. He now had a bedroom, sitting-diner, a tiny kitchen, and a shared bathroom. It was good to have his own space, even if he did have to be careful of the sloping ceilings in a couple of the back rooms.

He had just made himself a cup of tea when he heard his name shouted, so he went to the banister and looked over.

‘Ah, good, you’re back.’ Rick waved. He was one of the boys who shared the middle floor of the house. ‘We’re going dancing tonight. Want to come?’

‘All right. What time?’

‘About eight.’

‘I’ll be ready.’ Bob went back to his tea. He’d nearly refused, but he was feeling happy about the way things had gone. Everyone at the Russell estate had been pleased to see him, and even Midnight had remembered him. He had enjoyed riding again, and he could hardly believe what had happened at the school. It had taken a lot for him to return to Canning Town, but he was glad he had. He considered it a small victory, and it had shown him that he would be able to handle a class of rowdy kids. But was it really just a childish dream, or something he should pursue? There was a fork in his road and he really couldn’t decide which way to go.

He’d see Sister tomorrow and ask her if it would be possible to speak to her friend again. He would be able to point him in the right direction. But tonight he would bring his short holiday to an end by dancing – providing he could find a girl tall enough.

The dance was in a hotel a short walk away. After he had washed, shaved and put on a clean shirt, he joined the boys from downstairs, all of them intent on enjoying the evening.

‘Are you back at work tomorrow?’ Rick asked.

‘Yes, eight o’clock.’

‘I don’t know how you can work there,’ Henry said. ‘I don’t think I could do it.’

Bob smiled. ‘And I’d go mad sitting in an office all day.’

‘I expect you would, but I will be a lawyer one day.’ He looked up at Bob and grinned. ‘Anyway, we haven’t got a chair that would hold your weight.’

Bob made a lunge for the boy, who dodged nimbly out of the way, and they were all laughing when they reached the hotel.

It was already crowded, and they stood on the side of the dance floor studying the girls.

‘Phew! There are some pretty girls here. Have you seen anyone you fancy yet?’ Rick asked Bob.

He shook his head. ‘I’m waiting for them to stand up. It’s awkward dancing with someone who only reaches my chest. I feel as if I’m dancing by myself, and I hate talking to the top of their heads.’

Rick chuckled. ‘Being so tall does have some disadvantages then?’

‘A few . . .’

Henry was nudging Bob in the ribs. ‘Look at that one, she’s taller than me.’

Bob placed a large hand on top of Henry’s head. ‘Is that difficult?’

‘Ha, ha.’ Henry ducked out from under him. ‘Hey, boys, Bob’s in a funny mood tonight. Wonder what he’s been up to this last three days?’

‘Who knows, but don’t upset him,’ Greg, the other one of the group, said. ‘You know we only bring him along for protection.’

‘You fight your own battles, boys!’ Bob walked away, laughing, to see if that blonde Henry had pointed out would like to dance with him.

‘How can a bloke that tall move so smoothly and look so elegant?’ Rick mused.

‘Blowed if I know.’ Greg sighed. ‘Makes you sick, doesn’t it?’

‘Welcome back, Bob. We’ve missed you.’ Sister gave him a bright smile. ‘Have you enjoyed yourself?’

‘Very much, thank you. Can I have a quick word with you when you have a moment, please?’

‘Now would be convenient, before we start the day.’

He followed her into the office and said straight away, ‘I was wondering if I could talk to the professor again?’

‘As a matter of fact, I saw him yesterday and he asked me to give you this.’ She held out a large envelope.

Bob opened it, frowning as he flicked through the document. ‘These are exam papers.’

‘No, James has set them himself. He wants to find out how good your general knowledge is. Complete as much as you can, without cheating, and he said he’ll be here sometime next week to have a look at the work you’ve done.’

‘But why?’ Bob was completely mystified by this.

‘He wants to see how good – or bad – your education was.’

‘I told him it had only been elementary.’ He studied a couple of the questions and shook his head. ‘If these are university standard questions, how on earth does he expect me to do any of this?’

‘All he asks is that you try.’ Sister indicated that he should sit down. ‘James Morgan is a family friend of many years, and a busy man, but I asked him to take an interest in you. He’s offering help, Bob.’

Hardly able to believe this was happening, Bob was silent, not able to find the right words to thank this fine woman.

When he didn’t speak she held his gaze and smiled. ‘When Fate holds out a guiding hand, take it, Bob. This may lead to something, or it may not, but if you turn away you will regret it for the rest of your life. You will always wonder if you did the right thing.’

He finally found his voice. ‘Of course I’ll see if I can complete any of this paper.’ Amusement glinted in his grey eyes. ‘If you keep on like this I’ll start believing in Fate.’

That evening Bob settled down to have a good look at the questions. Each sheet covered a different subject, and at first glance he didn’t hold out much hope of answering many of the questions, but he had promised to try.

For the next two hours he worked, and to his surprise he had managed to answer a few of the questions, and he was again grateful to that teacher who had made him read a wide variety of books. He’d always had a good memory and that was serving him well now. However, he hadn’t even completed a third of the paper, so he would be busy for some nights to come. But enough for one night, it was time to get some rest because there was a busy day ahead of him tomorrow.

‘How did you get on?’ Sister asked him the next day.

He grimaced. ‘Some of the questions might as well be in a foreign language. I’ve managed some of it though.’

‘Good. Do what you can, that is all he’s asking of you.’

For the next three nights he laboured over the questions, refusing calls from the boys downstairs to go out with them. When he’d done as much as he could, he was sure Professor James Morgan wouldn’t bother with him again.

For the next week he carried on with his work and hardly gave the document a thought. Then when he was called to the office he found James Morgan there drinking tea with Sister.

‘Have you got the paper with you?’ he asked, the moment Bob stepped into the room.

He nodded and handed it over.

‘Good, good, I’ll go over this and see you in about an hour.’

Knowing he had been firmly dismissed, Bob went back to his work. He wasn’t anxious because he was certain he hadn’t done enough to interest a man like Professor Morgan, but he’d tried. Most of the paper had been way above his level of knowledge.

It was a very busy day and he didn’t take any notice of the time passing, so he was surprised when one of the other helpers tapped him on the shoulder and told him he was wanted in the office.

James Morgan was alone and beckoned him in. He had pages of written notes on the desk in front of him. ‘Sit down, young man. The questions I set you were intended to give me an indication of your knowledge and how your mind works. You’ve made a valiant stab at answering as much as you could, and where I’ve asked you to say how you feel about something, you are articulate. Now we will go through this together.’

Bob drew in a deep breath, preparing himself for the bad news.

‘History – good.’ He looked up. ‘Your favourite subject?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Mathematics – adequate, but needs further study. ‘Geography – poor. However you could have looked on a map for the answers, but you didn’t, and I’d give you marks for that.’

‘I was told I mustn’t cheat,’ Bob told him.

‘Correct. Your writing is good, so is your English. Politics . . .’ The corners of his mouth twitched. ‘You are quite well informed, and have strong opinions on what needs to be done. You are particularly scathing about most of the politicians.’

‘I know what it’s like to struggle every day to put food on the table and keep a roof over our heads.’ Bob leant forward, elbows resting on his knees. ‘We were promised that things would be better after the war, but it still hasn’t improved. Men can’t find jobs, and not enough is being done for those who fought for this country. It’s a bloody disgrace. Pardon my language, sir.’

‘And you believe you can help by becoming a teacher in the poor areas?’

‘Well, I don’t know what sort of a contribution I could make, but I do believe that education is the key to the next generation having a better chance in life.’ Bob then told him about his visit to his old school. The paper was forgotten as they talked, the discussion deep and wide-ranging.

Suddenly, Bob caught sight of the clock and stood up. ‘I’m sorry, sir, I’m wasting your time, and I must get back to work.’

‘Sit down,’ he ordered. ‘Mary has your job covered. I’m going to send you to a friend of mine who teaches boys out of school hours who need extra help. I’ve already spoken to him about you.’

‘I can’t afford private tuition,’ Bob protested.

James Morgan waved his hand dismissively. ‘We know that. If he thinks you have potential, William Jackson is prepared to charge you one penny a week.’

‘That’s ridiculous!’ he declared, beginning to think this man was playing some kind of joke on him.

‘Yes, isn’t it?’ The professor smiled broadly. ‘But don’t look so insulted, my boy. This is not the time to let pride get in the way. He’s a first-class teacher, and if Mary is convinced you are worth the trouble, then he will take you on.’

Bob was stunned, but James Morgan was right to point out that pride had no place in this arrangement. ‘I’d be a fool to turn this opportunity down. Will it help me into a teaching career?’

‘William will give you an education up to elementary teacher standard, but what you do with it will be up to you.’ He wrote a local address down and handed it to Bob. ‘Go and see him when you finish work today. I shall be keeping an eye on your progress, so good luck. You have a lot of hard work ahead of you.’

The house on Richmond Green was impressive and Bob decided that William Jackson must do very nicely teaching pupils who were lagging behind in their studies.

‘Are you coming in, Robert Hunter?’

While Bob had been standing there gazing at the house the door had opened, and he was surprised to see that the man standing there could not be more than thirty.

‘How did you know who I was?’ he asked, walking towards the door.

‘James described you to me, and I hope you are going to ask more intelligent questions than that,’ he said drily. ‘You would hardly get lost in a crowd.’

‘I suppose not.’ Bob grinned, liking the teacher already.

‘What do you prefer to be called, Robert or Bob?’ He urged Bob in and led him to a room set up for teaching.

‘Bob, sir.’

‘Mr Jackson will do. Sit down and I’ll go through the rules with you. I will expect you here twice a week to begin with. I know your working hours are irregular, so we won’t set days. You will let me know each week when you will be able to come. Each lesson will last for two hours, and I shall expect you to work hard. I will set you homework and you will bring it – completed – with you at each lesson. If at any time you fail to keep up with the workload, or show any sign of disinterest, then I shall terminate our arrangement.’ His gaze was direct. ‘Is that clear?’

‘Perfectly, Mr Jackson. I can assure you that I’m not going to throw this chance away. Where else will I get private tuition for only a penny a week?’

William Jackson smiled and sat on the edge of the large desk that dominated the room. ‘Indeed!’

‘Do you and Professor Morgan consider me a charity case?’ The paltry fee still rankled with him. He might not have much, but he was fiercely independent.

‘We consider you a special case, and don’t be offended. I do take pupils who can’t afford to pay anything. I happen to believe that a good education is the right of everyone, not just the rich. I told James that I would be happy to take you on without a fee, but he said I must charge you something or you probably would not come. Your pride would not allow you to take charity. I believe he summed you up correctly?’

Bob nodded his head in acknowledgement; satisfied with the answer he had been given. ‘Thank you for that explanation, Mr Jackson.’

‘Now we understand each other, Bob, let us begin straight away.’

Twenty-Four

It was bitterly cold and Ruth stamped her feet and flapped her arms to keep the circulation going. 1923 had arrived on a blast of cold air, and hadn’t let up. In fact March was even colder. How she longed for spring! There were a few hardy people walking round the market, but generally most people were only venturing out when absolutely necessary. Once it warmed up a bit trade would, hopefully, pick up again. Her takings had dropped terribly, but that was the same for all the traders. Not only was it cold, but also the unemployment queues were long and many people were having a hard time keeping warm and fed. Those who could manage it were helping the old and frail in their street. Mr Hunter and her dad were also doing what they could for the unemployed ex-servicemen with young families. Everyone would breathe a sigh of relief when this winter was over.

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