Page 28

Chapter 27

Smoke billowed past the window and the wheels clacked in their relentless, noisy rhythm as the train rattled along its tracks. Cormac and Jack sat opposite one another, their knees almost touching in the narrow compartment. Cormac surreptitiously eyed his son, whose attention remained fixed on the blurred landscape beyond the sooty glass; the boy hadn’t uttered a single word since they boarded the Caledonian Railway just before the Scottish border.

Tapping his fingertips nervously against each other, Cormac continued to steal glances at Jack, desperate to know what he was thinking. At last, he blurted, ‘Are you anxious, a mhac ? It would be perfectly understandable if you are.’

Jack dragged his gaze away from the window. ‘I am,’ he admitted.

‘Tell me what’s troubling you,’ Cormac urged, ‘and I’ll do my best to allay your concerns.’

Jack clasped his hands together and bit his lip. ‘I’m worried about Gus.’

Cormac blinked. ‘I see,’ he said.

He, too, had been dwelling on how Gus would fare in Jack’s absence – ever since they’d broken the news that his older brother would be going away to school, Gus had been far quieter than usual, and he had visibly struggled to hold back tears when Cormac and Jack had departed from Bewley Hall early that morning. However, Cormac was surprised that Gus was foremost in Jack’s thoughts at this moment, considering the upheaval that was imminent in his own life.

‘Are you worrying about how he will cope without you?’ he asked.

‘Yes,’ Jack confessed. ‘The longest we’ve ever been apart is a day, and now we won’t see each other until I come home for Christmas. Those four months will crawl by if he’s feeling very lonely.’ Jack hesitated. ‘There’s also the concern that I won’t be able to keep him in check when one of his more harebrained ideas occurs to him.’

It suddenly struck Cormac that Jack must have actively prevented some of Gus’s wildest schemes from coming to fruition in the past, and he experienced a rush of thankfulness that Jack had always been there up to now to rein in his younger brother.

‘Don’t fret too much,’ he said. ‘We’ll keep him busy while you’re away, and Mr Humphrey will see to it that he works hard on his lessons. If he applies himself with enough diligence, he might even join you at Balfour School next September.’

Jack’s eyes flickered with cautious hope. ‘You think so?’

‘I certainly hope so.’ Cormac paused. ‘Do you…have any other worries? About school, perhaps?’

Jack shrugged. ‘Not really. I mean, I’m nervous, but I’m sort of looking forward to it too.’ He met Cormac’s gaze directly. ‘And I know what’s expected of me. I won’t let you down.’

How did this conversation turn into the son reassuring his father, when it was supposed to be the other way around?

‘You have nothing to prove,’ Cormac said, forcing the words past an unexpected blockage in his throat. ‘And also, I trust, nothing to fear. The headmaster seems to be a good man, and he has promised me that Balfour fosters an encouraging environment.’

Jack gave a buoyant nod, his manner so credulous that it made Cormac seize up with misgiving.

‘Having said that,’ he went on carefully, ‘you won’t be in a position to ascertain the truth until you’re there. If anything feels amiss, you must write at once to let us know.’

Jack’s expression faltered and Cormac felt guilty for planting the seed of doubt; he didn’t want the lad to lose his optimism. Still, it was best to be prepared for less favourable eventualities.

‘I’m only saying that it’s worth being on your guard a little,’ he said, grimacing as he dug a deeper hole. ‘If you’re unhappy in any way, make sure you tell us.’ Conscious that these institutions had a propensity for monitoring their pupils’ letters home, he added, ‘You don’t even need to put it in so many words. Just mention that you’re missing your dog Jasper, and I will come for you without delay.’

‘But I don’t have—’ Jack started with a frown, then cut himself off. ‘Oh, I understand.’

Cormac winked at him, hoping to diffuse the tension he had created. Jack’s responding smile was genuine, if a touch tentative. In the next instant, it faded and his brows knitted together.

‘There’s someone else I’m worried about,’ he said timidly.

‘Who?’

‘Ma.’

‘What troubles you about her?’ Cormac asked, trying to keep his tone light.

‘She hasn’t laughed once since you came back from your trip to London last month.’

Cormac regarded his son in startled silence. The lad truly absorbed every detail around him with unerring perception. How much should he share with him?

‘She…had a difficult experience there,’ he acknowledged quietly.

In truth, he still shuddered when he recalled her pallor as she emerged from the palace after the hearing. She had hurried past the guards at the entrance, fled by Cormac where he stood waiting, and been violently ill against the sand-coloured stone wall of the building. When he caught up to her, all he could do was stroke her back and murmur soothingly to her in ignorance until Mr Carruthers had appeared and provided the details of what had transpired in the hearing chamber. By the time the lawyer had finished, Cormac found himself utterly despising the vengeful Duke of Northrop and the spineless Lord Swaneset, but it was Lord Woodbury whom he wished he could tear limb from limb.

‘That goddamned blackguard,’ he had snarled, shaking with rage. That he had dared to propose Bridget return to Garrett was both infuriating and frightening. If Cormac had known what was afoot, he would have stormed inside the building to confront those so-called gentlemen in unbridled fury. He had been on the brink of doing just that anyway, but Mr Carruthers’s level-headed counsel restrained him – they had achieved their goal, and a reckless outburst on Cormac’s part would accomplish nothing except perhaps to provoke the panel into reversing their decision.

And what a hard-won decision it had been. When Bridget had finally found the strength to speak of it, the anguish in her eyes had revealed the torment she had suffered under Lord Woodbury’s ruthless interrogation. It was no wonder that Jack had noticed a pall of despondency lingering over her once they returned to Bewley Hall.

‘You don’t need to be apprehensive about your mother,’ Cormac assured him. ‘The divorce proceedings have taken their toll, but I promise you I’ll look after her.’

‘She’ll have Gus too,’ said Jack.

‘Precisely,’ Cormac said with a grin. ‘No better chap to raise her spirits.’

A shadow flashed across Jack’s face. Before Cormac could identify its cause, the train began to slow down; steam hissed outside their window and the brakes screeched, setting his teeth on edge and cutting off any further conversation. Nudging Jack’s knee with his own, he offered him an encouraging smile, and they prepared to disembark at the Carstairs railway station.

They stayed overnight at The Glenside Inn, which was bustling with other fathers and sons also availing of the accommodation ahead of the commencement of the September term at Balfour. The dining room resounded with hearty greetings and animated chatter, but Jack kept quiet and close to Cormac, his gaze flicking covertly across the room as he observed the older boys with their confident, easy camaraderie. Cormac didn’t push him to interact with them just yet; navigating this new social terrain required small steps, and there would be plenty of time for him to find his footing.

The next morning, they had to wait their turn to hire a local driver to take them and Jack’s trunk of belongings up to the school in a gig. The school grounds were full of activity when they arrived and adolescent boys of all ages hailed each other raucously, bellowing goodbye to their parents as they dashed towards the building’s entrance. Cormac sensed Jack shrinking in the seat beside him. Plenty of time, he reminded himself, though his unease nonetheless grew. Had the lad been feigning bravery on the train yesterday?

The driver brought the gig to a halt and muttered something in such a thick local accent that Cormac couldn’t make it out.

‘Right—ahem, would you mind waiting here for me?’ he asked. ‘I don’t think I’ll be too long.’

‘That’s what I said ,’ the man barked back, his tone both curt and amused.

With a chuckle and an apologetic dip of his head, Cormac jumped down from the gig and helped Jack lift out his trunk. As it thumped to the ground, he heard a voice call out a greeting and straightened to see the headmaster, Mr Cameron, approaching with brisk steps.

‘Good morning, Mr McGovern. I trust your journey up from the south wasn’t too arduous?’

‘Not at all,’ Cormac replied as they shook hands firmly. ‘Mr Cameron, this is my son Jack.’

The headmaster regarded Jack with a smile. ‘Welcome to Balfour, Jack. Are you ready to start this new chapter in your education?’

Jack glanced at his father before giving a small but earnest nod. ‘Yes, sir. I hope I’ll be able to prove myself worthy of my place here.’ He blushed; it sounded like he had rehearsed the line beforehand.

‘I’m sure you’ll do just fine,’ Mr Cameron said encouragingly. Turning, he beckoned to two broad-shouldered boys jogging past. ‘Graham! Duncan! Help this laddie with his trunk and show him up to the dormitory, will you?’

They came to a swift stop and replied in unison, ‘Yes, sir!’

As they trotted over to Jack’s trunk, Cormac realised that this action brought him and Jack to the moment of parting. His chest tightened. It was going to be harder than he had anticipated, especially given the way Jack was staring up at him like the guileless lamb Bridget had dubbed him since he was an infant.

‘Take care, a mhac ,’ Cormac said, striving for a bracing attitude to conceal the emotion that was squeezing his heart. ‘I have every faith in you.’

He yearned to embrace his precious son but suppressed the impulse – the last thing he wanted was to embarrass Jack in front of his new headmaster and the other boys. Instead, he simply shook his hand, intending the gesture as an acknowledgement of the fact that today Jack was taking a significant step towards manhood. However, it felt hollow the instant their palms separated, and the disappointed look on Jack’s face suggested that he might have actually welcomed a hug. Regret pierced Cormac, but it was too late – Graham and Duncan had hefted the trunk into their arms, each gripping one end as they waited expectantly.

Cormac cleared his throat and leaned in close to Jack as if to bridge the growing distance between them. ‘Jasper will be pining for you,’ he said meaningfully, ‘but we’ll be sure to take him on long walks while you’re gone.’

The corner of Jack’s mouth turned up – it was almost a smile, but not quite. He turned away to follow Graham and Duncan, looking small and insubstantial in the shadow of their bulkier frames.

After bidding a polite farewell to Mr Cameron, Cormac forced himself to turn away as well, resisting the urge to watch Jack until he disappeared from sight inside the school building. The weight of the moment settled heavily on his chest as he climbed back into the gig.

The driver muttered something incomprehensible again.

‘Very true,’ Cormac agreed vaguely, his voice dull. He knew that public school offered Jack opportunities he himself had never had, but the sacrifice of letting his eldest boy grow up so far from their tight-knit family was a hard price to pay.