Love Lies Bleeding. Edmund CrispinЧитать онлайн книгу.
it were untrue.
Williams went red in the face. ‘No, sir,’ he said. ‘I’m sorry, sir.’
‘Be more accurate, Williams,’ the headmaster admonished him mildly. ‘If, at your age, you’re sorry that you arranged to meet an attractive girl, then you ought to be examined by a doctor…The phrase you should use in such circumstances is: “I apologize”.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Williams agreed, rather helplessly.
‘And where exactly was this rendezvous?’
‘In the science building, sir.’
‘Ah. I take it, then, that the arrangement was made during last evening’s rehearsal?’
‘Yes, sir. The rehearsal ended at nine forty-five. So there was a quarter of an hour to spare before I needed to be back at my house.’
The headmaster made a mental note that this gap must not be allowed to occur next year.
‘This appointment,’ he said, ‘was it made on your own initiative?’
‘Well, sir’ – Williams risked an apologetic grin – ‘one might say it was a cooperative effort.’
‘Indeed.’ The headmaster considered for a moment. ‘Have you any excuses to make?’
‘Well, sir, I don’t know if you’ve actually seen Brenda, sir—’
The headmaster interrupted him. ‘Yes, that’s obviously the only justification you could offer: Vénus tout entière à son Williams attachée. Being in the Modem Sixth, you should know your Racine.’
‘It’s only natural at my age, sir,’ Williams murmured hopefully, ‘as you said yourself.’
‘Did I?’ said the headmaster. ‘That was indiscreet of me. But if we all gave way to our natural impulses as and when we felt like it, we should soon be back at the Stone Age…What exactly happened during your meeting with this young woman?’
Williams looked surprised. ‘Nothing, sir. I wasn’t able to turn up.’
‘What?’ the headmaster exclaimed.
‘Mr Pargiton caught me, sir, just as I was leaving the hall. As you know, sir, we’re supposed to go back to our houses immediately the rehearsal’s over, even if it finishes early…And of course, I was heading at the time in the opposite direction to Hogg’s. Mr Pargiton’ – Williams’ tone betrayed considerable resentment – ‘took me back and handed me over to Mr Fry.’
The headmaster reflected that Pargiton’s officiousness, which was normally rather tiresome, had its uses after all.
‘And you’re prepared to swear,’ he said, ‘that after the rehearsal you never set eyes on the girl?’
‘Yes, sir. That’s the truth.’
The headmaster sat down abruptly in the swivel chair behind his desk. ‘As I said before, you must not make assignations with young women.’
‘No, sir.’
‘Nor must you, on leaving this room, go round complaining about obscurantist repression of wholesome desires.’
‘No, sir, I shouldn’t dream—’
‘Your mind, Williams, is probably full of half-baked Freudian dogma.’
‘Well, actually, sir—’
‘Forget it. God forbid that you should be permanently celibate. But the term lasts only twelve weeks, and if you can’t abstain from the opposite sex for that length of time without suffering psychological damage, then your brain is an altogether feebler instrument than I’ve hitherto believed.’
Williams said nothing; his logic was incapable for the moment of contending with all this.
‘And in conclusion,’ the headmaster remarked, ‘kindly remember that there will be hell to pay if you attempt to meet this girl again…Now go away.’
And Williams took himself off, mightily pleased both at the efficacy of Mr Etherege’s spell and at the headmaster’s directness and good sense. He did not suspect that the headmaster’s directness and good sense had been carefully calculated so as to appeal to his own youthful mixture of idealism and cynicism. The headmaster had had considerable practice in getting the results he wanted.
Perceiving that Pargiton lingered in front of the teaching block, the headmaster sought, and found, confirmation of Williams’ narrative. He then telephoned to the High School and gave Miss Parry a concise summary of what he had learned.
‘I see,’ she said. ‘In that case, I’ll return to the attack. How long could Brenda have waited in the science building?’
‘Until about half past ten, I suppose, when Wells locks it up for the night.’
‘Good. Thank you very much.’
‘By the way,’ the headmaster added, ‘you might let me know what results you get.’
‘Of course,’ said Miss Parry. ‘I’ll telephone you later on.’
‘Later on’ proved to be about ten minutes before the beginning of afternoon school.
‘Look here,’ said Miss Parry, ‘are you quite certain that boy is telling the truth?’
‘I’m positive,’ the headmaster replied. ‘Why?’
‘Brenda denies that she ever went anywhere near the science building.’
‘Oh, Lord…Well, mightn’t that simply mean she was leading Williams up the garden path?’
‘It may. I don’t know.’
‘Does she deny having arranged to meet Williams?’
‘No. She wanted to at first, but I think that was only to protect the boy. She maintains that she thought better of it, and went home instead.’
‘I see…No other information?’
‘Nothing. The girl’s as obstinate as a donkey…There’s only one thing I’m sure of.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Something,’ said Miss Parry, ‘has nearly frightened her out of her mind.’
The site of Castrevenford School is a substantial rectangle, bounded on the west by the river Castreven and on the east by a main road. Elsewhere the line of demarcation is vaguer: northwards the playing fields peter out indeterminately into farming land, while to the south there is a confusing huddle of school buildings adjacent to a disorganized cluster of houses named Snagshill, which is a suburb both of Castrevenford and – more definitely – of the school itself. The main teaching block – a large but comfortless eighteenth-century erection of red brick, ivy-covered and a kind of game reservation for mice – stands isolated on the western boundary, with a clock tower, roofed by well-oxidized copper, surmounting it. From it, a gentle slope, planted with elms and beeches and riddled with rabbit warrens, runs down to the river bank. Here the school boathouse is situated, and a substantial landing stage. Across the river there are fields, woods, a distant grange; and beyond them can be seen the towers and spires of Castrevenford town, three miles upstream.
The boarding houses are seven in number, scattered irregularly about the circumference of the site. At the north-eastern angle is the chapel, an uncommonly hideous relic of late Victorian times, put up with such parsimony and haste that the authorities go in hourly fear of its subsidence or total collapse. The school gates open on the main road. A