world, it somehow became 'Haddock'. And that followed him ever after - to the RAF, and back to Oxford after the war, and then into the Civil Service. And finally back to Waltham, where it displaced the original 'Crad' immediately.'
That was more of an answer than she'd expected. And, cutting away the irrelevant fat of the nickname, it left her with a curious circular odyssey, beginning and ending with Waltham - and with one strong prejudice she shared with her late headmistress.
'Of course!' exclaimed Sir Peter. 'He went back to teach at the old school, didn't he!' He caught Elizabeth's expression. 'You've heard of Waltham?'
'I have.' This, at least, was something she didn't have to think twice about, to pretend ignorance or any bland non-committal knowledge.
'You don't approve of it?' He read her face accurately. 'I thought it was a very good school.
In fact - in fact, I believe we took two Old Walthamites in our last graduate-trainee intake.
A bio-chemist from Cambridge, and an economist from Bristol University - both high-flyers.'
That figured, thought Elizabeth grimly. 'It's a very good school.'
And that was the unarguable truth: Waltham had always been a first-class public school, disgustingly well endowed with money.
'And the present headmaster is a brilliant man. We've had him to lunch here - and we bought him an IBM computer, for his computer studies centre, Miss Loftus.'
That also figured. Not the least of Waltham's unfair advantages was that it was blessed with a Board of Governors who knew their business, and had both the prestige and the money to tempt and buy the best - the best staff, from the headmaster downwards, and the best pupils, with their generous scholarships, picking and choosing their elites.
Sir Peter was beginning to look a little lost. 'And one of our trainees was a girl - I beg your pardon, if that sounds male-chauvinist… but we have had difficulty, recruiting high-flying women into Xenophon. And we're rather pleased with this one.'
She didn't doubt it - that was the final insult, added to the injury: it was not so much that dummy2
Waltham was among the boys' public schools which had jumped on the band-waggon of poaching sixth formers from girls' schools; it was that, where most of them did the girls very little good, but merely stole their fees and decimated their old sixth forms, Waltham probably
Because Waltham did everything well - all too bloody well!
But that had nothing to do with this, she admonished herself. 'Tell me about Haddock Thomas, Sir Peter.'
'I will - in a moment, in just a moment.' He saw that he wasn't going to get anywhere with her. 'Where did Haddock go, after Waltham, David?'
'He didn't go anywhere. He stayed on there until he retired. That was two or three years ago.'
'Oh.' Sir Peter drew a long, slow breath. 'I see.'
'You didn't know he went to Waltham?'
'I knew he went there. I didn't know he stayed.' Sir Peter stared at Audley. 'He wrote to me from there. Twice.'
'But you didn't reply.' It was a question.
'I did, actually.' For a moment he stood on the edge of continuing, then he drew back from it.
'Yes?' Audley pushed him with uncharacteristic gentleness. 'The second time being… ?'
'Yes.' Sir Peter nodded, but left the second time equally unelaborated. 'Was he… happy?
Eventually?'
This time Audley was slow to reply. 'It would seem so, by all accounts.' Still the same gentle voice.
'Yes?' For the first time Sir Peter's voice was without colour, as carefully neutral as Switzerland. 'No, I didn't know.' Sir Peter's face weakened very slightly. 'No, it wouldn't have done. And I take it that his work… he taught the Classics - Latin and Greek - ?'
Audley nodded. 'Very successfully. I'm reliably informed that Waltham took more of the top scholarships to Oxbridge - and Bristol and Durham - than Winchester, proportionately.
dummy2
And as for university entrance… they say that just being in his Classical Sixth was like being given the key to the door.' Another nod, with a cynical smile. 'He used to make the rounds, keeping up his contacts - with his old pupils, as well as the professors and the dons… And with a girl in tow, somewhere, very often. But always discreetly, of course.'
The smile vanished.
Sir Peter frowned. 'Where did he get them? Waltham's a bit out of the way, surely?'
Elizabeth heard herself sniff. 'Waltham has girls in its sixth form now - ' She caught Audley's eye ' - bright girls.'
Audley grinned wickedly. 'But Haddock himself was dead against that, Elizabeth. In fact, my reliable informant says he damn nearly resigned prematurely when he was out-voted.'
'Oh yes?' She fought her prejudices.
'He let himself be out-voted?' Sir Peter was less unhappy now. 'But he was always rather against democracy - ever since the Athenians voted for the death of Socrates.'
