We asked him greedily what it tasted like.

I imagined the Ward family sitting round the gas-lit table with the baroque bird in front of them, redecked in all her plucked feathers. Then I imagined the fishy taste of her meat.

Everywhere I met with more tolerance than I had ever known before.

When I went to Miss Fenwick to arrange my music lessons with her, I found Major Willett there. I thought he would show his disapproval very openly, but there was no sign. He only smiled and said, “The wanderer returned!” Then, when Miss Fenwick had gone out of the room to fetch her timetable, he came up and gave me a playful punch, adding, “You’re a sly one, taking the bit between your teeth like that!”

I suddenly liked him enormously. Whenever we met after that he always paid me some attention.

In the Art School I found Mr. Williams still secure behind his wall of sarcasm.

“Had a good holiday, Welch’ Do you prefer Salisbury to Exeter’ What’s so lovely about Salisbury is its setting. Take away the Close and half the beauty’s gone.”

I knew his manner so well.

I smiled at him and went out again into the School Yard.

           

I tried to settle down for the next two and a half months, and the days were not really unhappy.

Every Sunday morning a few of us would go to Miss Fenwick’s room to sing. Her sister was the Headmaster’s wife and she lived with them at the Hall. It was a lovely old house with an ugly upper storey and wing built on to it, but nothing could quite spoil its fine doorway and sash windows.

The atmosphere was freer here than anywhere else in the school. We were all of different ages and from different Houses, and the caste system was broken down.

I was happy, singing in that white panelled room.

             

Sunday was the most civilized day of all. In the afternoon, I would generally go for a walk with Geoffrey Forbes. If we were going towards Milton, we would knock on the door of a grim-looking cottage near the stream, and buy large pieces of cake from the woman who lived there. The passage was so dark and stale-smelling that I often wondered about the cake, but I would soon be hungry enough to break large lumps off and eat them with Geoffrey.

As we had both been at school for two years we were allowed to carry umbrellas. I never had one, but Geoffrey always flourished his. He would wave it and recite to me as we walked along. Suddenly he would stop in the middle of the road and ask me if I had enjoyed Hamlet’s speech. If I showed no pleasure he would begin to shout, “You little sissy, you can’t think about anything but yourself.” He would poke me with the umbrella, and once he tried to tie me to a tree with my scarf.

When he was tired of trying to punish my vanity he would say, “I’ll sing to you,” He set his face very carefully, then began, “Hark, hark, the lark at Heaven’s gate sings,” or “Who is Sylvia, what is she?” It always seemed to be Schubert.

                

One day he came to me while I was in the lavatory (all the doors had been removed from the compartments) and told me that his mother was dead.

He leant forward as I sat there and said, “She’s dead, Bird’s just told me.” He spoke in an excited way and his eyes sparkled. It was strange; I knew how fond he was of her. He was always telling me how pretty she was and how hard he would work when he left school so that she could have everything she wanted. He had no father; he had been killed in the first war, just after Geoffrey was born.

I murmured how sorry I was, but he was still grinning and smiling.

“I missed school this morning,” he said. “Mavis took me to see the point-to-point.”

Mavis was the daughter of our housemaster. I remembered seeing her that morning dressed in breeches and bowler hat. I did not know why she had put them on since she was only going to watch, not to ride.

Suddenly he burst out, “O God, I felt awful half-way through it, but now I’m all right again. I don’t realize it at all.” He smiled all over his face.

We left the lavatory together and, as it was a half-holiday, I suggested that we should go for a walk.

“All right,” he agreed. “But we must be back when Aunt Janet arrives. She’ll be here about four. I’ll take you to tea with her.”

“Won’t she want to see you alone?” I asked nervously.

“I don’t know whether she will or not, but I couldn’t stand being left with her, so you’ll have to come.”

I nodded my head but said nothing. I was feeling very uncomfortable, but wanted to help as much as possible.

We walked up the hill into the woods. The autumn leaves were clotted into great coloured lumps all over our path. The rain had stuck them together. The corners of Geoffrey’s eyes and mouth twitched as they often did, and he looked at nothing long, moving his head about in little jerks. The stream we crossed was swollen; with scum and bubbles bursting behind rocks in a secret way.

Geoffrey beat at the leaves with his umbrella, raking them into giant’s confetti.

Suddenly he poked at a dark thing on the path.