Among Others

other’s prep all the time. Deirdre has copied my Latin loads of times, and plenty of people copy Claudine’s French. I suppose it’s a case of not getting caught. I promised Miss Thackerly we wouldn’t do it again—Deirdre was in tears and could hardly speak. Getting expelled would be awkward for me, but it would be the end of the world for her.
    Letter from Daniel, with another fiver. I’ll tell him about finding Number of the Beast when I write. It starts well.
    S ATURDAY 2 ND F EBRUARY 1980
    I was almost sorry I had such a big pile of library books, though of course they were all things I wanted and had ordered. Greg was there and stamped them out for me.
    “There’s a new Heinlein,” I told him.
    “ The Number of the Beast ,” he agreed. “It’s on the top of my list of things to order for the shelves as soon as April comes.”
    “It’s wrong for libraries to have limited budgets,” I said.
    He snorted, and took the books from the lady behind me. I’m not wrong though. They could take the money from building enough nukes to kill all the Russians in the world and give it to libraries. What good does an independent nuclear deterrent do Britain, compared to the good of libraries? Somebody has their priorities wrong. I’m not really a commie, no matter what they call me, but I do think it might be instructive to look at library budgets in the Soviet Union.
    The sun was shining in a watery way as I walked down the hill. I thought I was early to meet Wim but he was already there, sitting in the table at the window eating a toasted teacake and drinking coffee. He always looks so relaxed and at home wherever he is, I don’t know how he does it. He was wearing a blue turtleneck just one shade darker than his eyes. I was conscious that I was, of course, as always, wearing school uniform. He looked like a student, like an adult, the way I would so much like to be, and there I was in a stupid gym-slip and a stupid hat, looking about twelve. I ordered and paid for tea and a honey bun, like always. I admit I did think of ordering something more sophisticated but I resisted the temptation.
    “I’m surprised you came,” he said, as I sat down next to him. His lips were greasy with the butter from the teacake. I’d have liked to have wiped it away. While I’m cataloguing what I’d have liked to do, I’d also have liked to feel his pullover to see if it was as soft as it looked. I don’t often have to suppress this kind of urge.
    “I said I’d come,” I said.
    “I thought Greg would have told you about me.”
    “So that’s why you did it. I couldn’t work that out.” It came out before I thought about whether saying it was a good idea or not.
    “You already knew?” he asked. “About Ruthie and all that?”
    “Janine told me, ages ago, and also Hugh told me, rather more sympathetically.” The waitress put down my tea and bun.
    “Hugh’s all right,” he said, wiping his lips on his napkin. “Janine hates me.”
    “Greg did tell me as well, in very general terms.”
    “It’s the trouble with a place like this. Everybody knows everybody’s business, or thinks they do. I can’t wait until I can shake the dust of it off my feet. I won’t ever look back.” He stared out of the window, stirring his coffee without looking at it.
    “When will that be?” I asked.
    “Not until after I take my A Levels. A year next June. Then I’ll get a grant and be off to university.”
    “What A Levels are you doing?” I asked. I wanted to eat my honey bun, but on the other hand, I didn’t want to have my mouth full. I took a smallish bite.
    “Physics and chemistry and history,” he said. “You wouldn’t believe the flap there was. It’s ridiculous only studying three subjects and trying to segregate arts and sciences.”
    “I made them rearrange the entire timetable so I could do chemistry and French,” I said. “At O Level, that is. I’m taking my O Levels next year. Every time we have a French class in what is technically the lunch hour, the teacher blames me, apologises to the others for the fact that I’m inconveniencing everybody.”
    Wim nodded. “That must have been an impressive fight.”
    “I couldn’t get them to do it for biology too. And Daniel, my father, backed me up. And I suppose he is paying for it.”
    “My parents don’t give a damn.”
    “I wish we had the education system they have in Doorways in the Sand ,” I said. “Here it is, by the way.” I got it out