‘I often wonder if we don’t underestimate Pinshow,’ I said. ‘There’s lots of goodwill in the man. And good ideas quite often originate in unexpected quarters. He just might be able to suggest something.’
‘Perhaps. You know more about Markham than I do. I mean, you probably know more about what the matter is. He doesn’t seem much good at anything any more, does he?’
I looked across the room at his sad, lost-looking face. ‘No, I’m afraid he doesn’t.’
Block suddenly began to laugh. ‘Have you heard Butler’s one about the sick budgerigar?’
I said I didn’t think I had, and he leaned forward and told me. Listening to this obscene account of invalid bird-life, I made up my mind to see Pinshow as soon as possible.
The evening light faded and Mr Pinshow continued to talk. I tried in the gloom to take some biscuits without his observing my action. He pushed the box closer to me, oblivious, or so I hoped, of my deceit. ‘Out of the slimy mud of words,’ said Mr Pinshow, ‘out of the sleet and hail of verbal imprecisions, approximate thoughts and feelings… there spring the perfect order of speech and the beauty of incantation.’ Mr Pinshow often said this. I think it may have been his favourite quotation. I drained my coffee mug, filling my mouth with bitter sediment as I did so.
I said: ‘There is a land of the living and a land of the dead and the bridge is love.’
‘Ah, Wilder.’ Mr Pinshow drew a large coloured handkerchief from his trouser pocket and blew his nose.
‘The only survival,’ I added, ‘the only meaning.’
Mr Pinshow replaced his handkerchief. He scratched a match along the side of its box and held the flame to his pipe. ‘Love’ he said, puffing, ‘or love? One sort or the other sort?’
‘The other sort, sir?’
‘You question such a division? Good. Good.’
I said: ‘I wanted to speak to you, sir.’
‘Quite right. Fire away, then.’
‘In confidence, sir, I think Williams is a bad influence on Markham.’
‘Ah.’
‘I think Markham may be very upset about his parents’ death, sir. Williams is the last person…’
‘Come now, in what way a bad influence? Speak freely, my friend. We must straightway establish the facts of the case.’
I knew then that the whole thing was going to be useless. It had been a mistake to come to Pinshow. I could not reveal to him the evidence on which my fears were based. I said nothing, hoping he would not press me.
‘I see,’ he said.
‘Perhaps I am making a mountain out of a molehill, sir.’
Mr Pinshow, however, did not think so at all. ‘This is a serious business,’ he said. ‘Though it is unusual in these matters, I am glad you came to me.’
Clearly, I had given the man a completely false impression. I attempted to rectify this, but Mr Pinshow waved me to silence.
‘Say no more, my friend. Leave the matter with me. You can rely on me to speak with discretion in the right directions.’
‘Sir, I hope I have not misled you.’
‘No, no, no.’
‘It is not a serious thing, sir. It is just that Markham was once a friend of mine and I am sure that now he…’
Mr Pinshow held up his hand. He smiled. ‘You are a good fellow. Do not despair. All will be well.’
God knows, I thought, what damage I have done.
‘Mind your own bloody business,’ Williams muttered to me. ‘Any more of this kind of stuff to Pinshow and I’ll have you for slander. Don’t you know that man’s a menace?’
‘Go to hell, Williams.’ And Williams, seeming a fit candidate for such a destination, shuffled angrily away.
After that, I decided to forget about Markham and Williams. After all, it had nothing to do with me; and in any case I appeared to have no option. I settled down to concentrating a little harder on my work and then, when I really had forgotten all about this strange alliance, I was summoned from class one day by the headmaster.
He stood by the window of his study, a terrible, sickly figure of immense height. He remained with his back to me when I entered the room and spoke to me throughout the interview from this position. ‘You will tell me what you know about Markham and the boy Williams,’ he said. ‘Do not lie, boy. I know a lie. I feel a lie on its utterance. Likewise, do not exaggerate. You will repeat to me simply and honestly all that is apposite. Unburden yourself, boy, that you may leave the room with your duty well done.’
I did not intend to lie. To conceal three-quarters of the story was not to lie. I said: ‘The whole truth, sir, is that…’ I paused not knowing how to go on. The headmaster said:
‘Well, boy, let us have haste with the whole truth.’
‘I can tell you nothing, sir.’
‘Nothing?’
‘Yes, sir. I know nothing of Markham and Williams.’
‘They are boys in this school. You know that, I presume? You have associated with them. You have spoken to Mr Pinshow of these boys. If their relationship is an illicit one I wish to know it. You will achieve little by reticence.’
‘There is nothing illicit, sir, in their friendship. I spoke to Mr Pinshow merely because I felt Williams to be the wrong sort of friend for Markham at this particular time.’
‘That is a presumptuous decision for you to make, boy.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Why, then, did you so perversely make it?’
‘I like Markham, sir.’
‘Why, then, did you not see to it that his days were made easier by persuading him personally against an ill influence?’
‘Markham no longer wished for my companionship, sir.’
‘You had harmed him in some manner?’
‘No, sir. At least not that I know of.’
‘Yes or no, boy? Do not leave yourself a cowardly loophole.’
‘No, sir. I had not harmed him.’
‘Well then, why did he not wish to converse with you?’
‘I’m afraid I don’t know.’
‘You do not know. It is unnecessary to be afraid as well.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘You see, boy, that you have placed me in an intolerable position with your wild irresponsibilities? I am the fount of authority in this school. You have made me uneasy in my mind. You have forced me to pursue a course I see no good reason for pursuing. Yet because there may be one tittle of reality in your guarded suspicions I must act as I do not wish to act. Have you ever placed yourself in a headmaster’s shoes?’
‘No, sir.’
‘No, sir. I had sensed as much. They are shoes that pinch, boy. It is well to remember that.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Walk forward to my desk, boy, and press the bell you see there. We will order this affair one way or the other.’
Markham and Williams were summoned. When they entered, the headmaster turned from the window and faced us. He said to them:
‘Your friendship is in dispute. Your accuser stands beside you. Do not lie, boys. I know a lie. I can feel a lie on its utterance. Have you reason for shame?’
Williams, whose eyes were fastened on the legs of the headmaster’s desk, shook his head. Markham replied that he had no cause to be ashamed.
‘On what then is your relationship based? Have you like interests? Of what do you speak together?’
‘Of many things, sir,’ Williams said. ‘Politics and affairs of state. Of our ambitions, sir. And our academic progress as the term passes.’
‘We talk of one subject only, sir,’ Markham said. ‘The death of my father and stepmother.’
‘Yet you, boy,’ the headmaster said to Williams, ‘would claim a wider conversational field. The air is blackened with the lie. Which boy are we to believe?’
‘Markham is ill, sir. He is not at all himself. I give him what help I can. He does not recall the full extent of our conversation.’
‘We speak of one subject,’ Markham repeated.