Greek politics. I did have my suspicions that he had met with foul play — been mugged on his way to the station or on the train — but, if that had been so, you would have turned up some evidence of it by now.’
‘Well, sir, I shall keep an eye on things, although not, as I say, an official eye, but there’s really nothing else I can do at present. I’m under orders, you see.’
‘Oh, well, I must just soldier on, then, Inspector.’
There had been a good deal more discussion of Pythias’s absence from the staffroom and endeavours had been made to ‘sound’ Margaret Wirrell to find out what she knew. All efforts to extract information failed and for good reason. Even if she had known anything, she would not have betrayed the headmaster’s confidence, but, in any case, her unvarying and truthful reply to enquirers was, ‘You know as much as I do.’
Time wore on through a rather dismal spring until half-term and after. There were the usual epidemics of measles and chicken-pox among the younger boys and of influenza among the masters. Because of fluctuations in the weather there were whole days when no outside work was done on the building, but three weeks before the Easter holiday the contractor’s foreman was able to assure Mr Ronsonby that, given any luck with the weather, the work would be completed very soon after the beginning of the Easter holiday. He was drafting in extra men and allowing more overtime and now could see an end to the job.
So bright, in fact, were the prospects that Mr Ronsonby called Mr Burke into consultation and then arranged another staff meeting at which Margaret Wirrell was to be present to take notes. The date of the official opening could not be decided by the staff and headmaster because the governors had not so far reached agreement on this point. Besides, the mayor’s list of engagements had to be taken into account and was not, so far, finalised.
‘But there is no reason,’ said Mr Ronsonby, ‘why we should not present the governing body with three or four suggestions as to a possible date, if only to jog their memories. Perhaps somebody would give us a lead. It can’t be a Thursday because of council meetings; it can’t be a Saturday (“thank God!” said a voice) because our chairman plays golf on Saturdays, and it can’t be a Monday because of the Philanthropic.’
‘Well, that leaves plenty of choice,’ said Mr Burke. ‘Why don’t we offer the Tuesdays, Wednesdays or Fridays of the first two or three weeks of term?’
Other voices took up a refrain.
‘Will the choir be needed and are the orchestra to take part?’
‘Does the head boy make a speech?’
‘There will have to be a bouquet for the mayoress and another for the wife of the chairman of governors, I suppose. A boy in my form has a father who is a florist.’
‘What about catering?’
‘The catering, yes,’ said Mr Ronsonby, seizing upon the most important item of the programme. ‘We shall have to send out invitations, of course, but we must assume, for practical purposes, that everybody will accept. All the council members will expect to come and so will the whole of the governing body. The secretary and treasurer of the parent-teacher association must be asked and so must the heads of all the neighbouring schools. Her Majesty’s Inspectors must be invited, although they probably won’t accept as that would establish a precedent, but our own education officer and a representative of the contractors will certainly turn up. Most of the men will be acompanied by wives and there are ourselves and our own wives. Perhaps, Margaret, you will do the necessary arithmetic later on and let me have an estimate of the probable numbers. I may have left out one or two people, but you will know and can fill them in.’
‘I suppose we let Bussell’s have the catering order,’ said Mr Burke. ‘They always cater for us at the swimming gala and on sports day.’
‘Oh, yes, we must support the local tradesmen when we can. When we know the numbers, perhaps you would see them, Burke. Take Margaret with you. Catering orders need a woman’s touch. I can give you
‘What about the choir and the orchestra, Headmaster?’ persisted the teacher responsible for these amenities. ‘The songs will have to be chosen and rehearsed, and —’
‘Make out a list, Phillips, and bring it along to me. One thing, we have time in hand. The same goes for the orchestra. A list of possible works and, if a soloist can be found, all the better. The audience always likes to have a solo performance thrown in, whether instrumental or vocal.’
‘There is Fallon on the trumpet, Headmaster, and —’
‘Excellent. See to it and let me have the details. Now we come to another point, gentlemen. The governors want to make us a present to mark the official opening. They are prepared with some suggestions of their own if we have no special request, but would like to give us something we ourselves would prefer.’
Suggestions came readily and every suggestion had its detractors.
‘A small cricket pavilion, perhaps.’
‘Redundant. What’s wrong with the gym changing room?’
‘A piece of statuary.’ (This came from the art master, Mr Pybus, who was hoping for a commission.)
‘Some oaf would contrive to put graffiti on it,’ said a dissenting voice.
‘A memorial window.’
‘Too churchy. Besides, it would get broken.’
‘Heraldic lions on the front gates.’
‘They would be an Aunt Sally for the local toughs.’
‘To hark back a little,’ said the art master, ‘is the affair to be run on the lines of an open day? I mean, if so, there must be exhibitions of work. I have some very promising boys taking GCE in art, and —’
The headmaster sat back and let the tide of suggestions and argument surge round him. It ceased after a bit and then the deputy head, who had not joined in any arguments, said, ‘To get back to the point, I thought we were
