he weren’t such a
hopeless student.’
Elizabeth kissed her husband
firmly on the mouth, wiped off the lipstick and patted his face. ‘You’re a good
man. Now stop worrying. And don’t you go bothering Arthur about his future.
He’s only ten, after all. When the time comes, he’ll do what he has to do.’
‘How do you know that?’
She wanted to explain but she
could not. How to explain instincts and feelings? ‘I just know. Some things
can’t be explained.’ Whatever the truth about Arthur, Elizabeth was sure of one
thing; he had been given to them for a reason. Whatever it was that made Arthur
special had something to do with that cold winter’s night when the clouds
parted for him. For her that would always be a treasured memory, one to be
locked away in her heart, too precious and too fragile to be shared with anyone
but Hector.
In the autumn of 2004, at the age of eleven,
Keir went to Glastonbury school, having sailed through the entrance exam.
Arthur would have to wait another year.
Keir came home for the
Christmas vacation very much the superior elder brother. He and Arthur went
fishing at the usual spot near the stone bridge across the Lally. Elbows on
knees, chin on hands, Arthur stared at the float, his thoughts wandering
downstream with the current. This lazy little tributary at his feet joined
another and another, until a dozen or more tributaries merged into a great
river. Crammed with boats, white sails swollen in the breeze, the river flowed
faster and faster, until finally it surged into the Bristol Channel and the
sea. The sea! What would he not give to be out there on the Atlantic swell. Or
in space. Or in the foothills of the Himalayas. Or anywhere in the universe,
anywhere but school.
‘What will you do when you grow up, Keir?’
‘Haven’t decided yet, have I?
I expect I’ll have my own company – something on the Internet, probably. I’m
going to be a billionaire,’ Keir boasted, ‘that’s for sure.’
Arthur was impressed, and
rather overawed by his brother. After a time he plucked up the courage to ask,
‘Would you like to know what I’m going to be?’
‘Not really. I expect you’ll tell me, though.’
‘I’m going to be a vet.’
‘You’ll never pass the exams,’
said Keir cruelly. ‘Do vets take exams?’
Keir raised his eyes to heaven. ‘Do fish swim?’
Arthur stared hard at the sky.
The clouds were wet and blurry.
For a while Keir concentrated
on his fishing, and Arthur on his dreaming. ‘What’s Glastonbury like?’ he asked
finally, more to please Keir than because he really wanted to know.
‘Brilliant.’
‘Lots of sport and things?’
‘Look here, Arthur,’ said
Keir, ‘it’s no use thinking they’re going to let you in just because you’re
good at sport. Glastonbury is for chaps with brains.’
Arthur did not like the sound
of that at all. ‘Do you think I’ll pass the entrance exam?’
‘Not a hope.’
Arthur stiffened his jaw to
stop his lower lip trembling. ‘Why not?’
Keir was pitiless. ‘Because you don’t know
anything, that’s why.’
Arthur thought that was a bit
unfair. ‘I may not know much about history and Latin and stuff, but I know a
bit about animals, and quite a lot about birds.’
‘Terrific,’ said Keir, with
heavy sarcasm. ‘When they ask you about Archimedes Principle you can do your
bird imitations.’
‘Is the work very hard?’
‘Hard?’ A scathing look.
‘Hard!’ Another withering look to ensure he had Arthur’s complete attention.
‘You could not even begin to imagine in your wildest dreams how hard it is.’
Arthur looked glum. His float
dipped once, and then again. Easing it gently away from the fish, he reeled in
his line and cast it far upstream. This outrageous transgression of the fishing
code did not pass unnoticed. ‘Don’t you want to catch a fish?’ ‘I’m waiting for
a big one,’ said Arthur, grinning nervously.
‘Is that so?’ Keir reeled in another fish.
hopeless student.’
Elizabeth kissed her husband
firmly on the mouth, wiped off the lipstick and patted his face. ‘You’re a good
man. Now stop worrying. And don’t you go bothering Arthur about his future.
He’s only ten, after all. When the time comes, he’ll do what he has to do.’
‘How do you know that?’
She wanted to explain but she
could not. How to explain instincts and feelings? ‘I just know. Some things
can’t be explained.’ Whatever the truth about Arthur, Elizabeth was sure of one
thing; he had been given to them for a reason. Whatever it was that made Arthur
special had something to do with that cold winter’s night when the clouds
parted for him. For her that would always be a treasured memory, one to be
locked away in her heart, too precious and too fragile to be shared with anyone
but Hector.
In the autumn of 2004, at the age of eleven,
Keir went to Glastonbury school, having sailed through the entrance exam.
Arthur would have to wait another year.
Keir came home for the
Christmas vacation very much the superior elder brother. He and Arthur went
fishing at the usual spot near the stone bridge across the Lally. Elbows on
knees, chin on hands, Arthur stared at the float, his thoughts wandering
downstream with the current. This lazy little tributary at his feet joined
another and another, until a dozen or more tributaries merged into a great
river. Crammed with boats, white sails swollen in the breeze, the river flowed
faster and faster, until finally it surged into the Bristol Channel and the
sea. The sea! What would he not give to be out there on the Atlantic swell. Or
in space. Or in the foothills of the Himalayas. Or anywhere in the universe,
anywhere but school.
‘What will you do when you grow up, Keir?’
‘Haven’t decided yet, have I?
I expect I’ll have my own company – something on the Internet, probably. I’m
going to be a billionaire,’ Keir boasted, ‘that’s for sure.’
Arthur was impressed, and
rather overawed by his brother. After a time he plucked up the courage to ask,
‘Would you like to know what I’m going to be?’
‘Not really. I expect you’ll tell me, though.’
‘I’m going to be a vet.’
‘You’ll never pass the exams,’
said Keir cruelly. ‘Do vets take exams?’
Keir raised his eyes to heaven. ‘Do fish swim?’
Arthur stared hard at the sky.
The clouds were wet and blurry.
For a while Keir concentrated
on his fishing, and Arthur on his dreaming. ‘What’s Glastonbury like?’ he asked
finally, more to please Keir than because he really wanted to know.
‘Brilliant.’
‘Lots of sport and things?’
‘Look here, Arthur,’ said
Keir, ‘it’s no use thinking they’re going to let you in just because you’re
good at sport. Glastonbury is for chaps with brains.’
Arthur did not like the sound
of that at all. ‘Do you think I’ll pass the entrance exam?’
‘Not a hope.’
Arthur stiffened his jaw to
stop his lower lip trembling. ‘Why not?’
Keir was pitiless. ‘Because you don’t know
anything, that’s why.’
Arthur thought that was a bit
unfair. ‘I may not know much about history and Latin and stuff, but I know a
bit about animals, and quite a lot about birds.’
‘Terrific,’ said Keir, with
heavy sarcasm. ‘When they ask you about Archimedes Principle you can do your
bird imitations.’
‘Is the work very hard?’
‘Hard?’ A scathing look.
‘Hard!’ Another withering look to ensure he had Arthur’s complete attention.
‘You could not even begin to imagine in your wildest dreams how hard it is.’
Arthur looked glum. His float
dipped once, and then again. Easing it gently away from the fish, he reeled in
his line and cast it far upstream. This outrageous transgression of the fishing
code did not pass unnoticed. ‘Don’t you want to catch a fish?’ ‘I’m waiting for
a big one,’ said Arthur, grinning nervously.
‘Is that so?’ Keir reeled in another fish.
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