that attempt to invade Cuba was called.’
‘The Bay of Pigs,’ said Wilt and considered saying how appropriate it was for Wally Immelmann but Eva had found another book.
‘_Gaddafi. The Libyan Liberator_. I don’t believe it.’
‘Nor do I as a matter of fact,’ said Wilt. ‘But you know what Mayfield’s like. He’s always inventing new courses and we’ve all got to–’
‘I don’t care what you’ve got to do,’ Eva said furiously. ‘You are not going to Wilma with those dreadful books.’
‘You think I want to?’ said Wilt ambiguously and picked up another. ‘This one is about how President Kennedy wanted to use the atom bomb on Cuba. It’s really rather interesting.’
There was no need to go on but Wilt did.
‘Well, if you want me to lose my job, I’ll leave them behind. They’ve already made five Senior Lecturers redundant this year and I know I’m on the short list. And with the pension I’d get we wouldn’t be able to keep the girls at the Convent. We’ve got to think about their education and their future and there’s no point my taking the risk of getting the sack simply because Uncle Wally doesn’t like my reading about Marxism in Wilma.’
‘In that case you are not coming,’ said Eva, now thoroughly convinced. ‘I’ll tell them you’ve had to stay here and teach during the holidays to pay for the girls to go to school.’ She stopped, struck by a sudden thought. ‘That course for the Canadians. You said last night you couldn’t come because you had to stand in for Swinburne.’
‘Cancelled,’ said Wilt hurriedly. ‘No problem there. Not enough students.’
Chapter 4
Next day while Eva was busy in Ipford trying to decide what new clothes to buy for the quads Wilt made his own preparations. He knew now what he was going to do: go on a walking tour. He had found a rain cape in the form of an old army groundsheet, a suitably shabby rucksack and a water bottle from the Army & Navy stores, and had even considered buying a pair of khaki shorts that came down over his knees only to decide that his legs weren’t the sort to expose to the world and he didn’t want to go round the West Country looking like a superannuated Boy Scout. Instead he chose blue jeans and some thick socks to go with the walking boots Eva had bought for their family holiday in the Lake District. Wilt wasn’t sure about the walking boots. They were purpose-built for fell walking and he had no intention of going anywhere near anything resembling a fell. Tramping was all very well for them that liked that sort of thing but Wilt intended sauntering and not doing anything too strenuous. In fact it had occurred to him that it might be a good idea to find a canal and walk along the tow-path. Canals had to stick to the flat and when they came to anything resembling a hill they very sensibly made use of locks to get over them. On the other hand he couldn’t find any canals in the part of the world he had in mind to walk across. Rivers were his best bet. On the whole they took even easier ways than canals and there were bound to be footpaths beside them. And if there weren’t, he would take to fields provided there weren’t any bulls in them. Not that he knew anything about bulls except that they were dangerous.
There were other contingencies he had to take into account, like what would happen if he couldn’t find anywhere to sleep at night. He bought a sleeping-bag and took the lot back to his office and crammed it into a cupboard before locking it. He didn’t want Eva bursting in unexpectedly (she did this every now and then ostensibly to collect something from him like the car keys) and finding out what he really planned to do while
