Page 71 of These Old Lies

His thoughts returned to the conversation with Betty earlier in the week, the possibility it hinted at of perhaps being part of the family living with him, as opposed to existing alongside them.

Perhaps it was just the bright and focused way that Frank looked at him, the defensiveness of adolescence dropped for one blessed minute, but Ned threw caution to the wind and pushed forward. “Although German wasn’t the worst of my problems, to be honest. Almost lost my Oxford place due to my poor mathematics marks. I had a horrible time.”

“How did you get better?”

“I was very, very, very stubborn.”

“Frank wouldn’t have any trouble with that.” Ellie giggled.

“I also learned some tricks that helped me keep track of it all in my mind.It was a fair while ago, but happy to let you benefit from whatever knowledge still exists in the attic of my brain, if you’d like.”

In for a penny, in for a pound.

“You would do that?”

“It would be my pleasure.”

Immediately Ned’s mind began sprinting to what old books he still had floating around from his school days, and what he might be able to borrow from colleagues. Wasn’t Reginald Hopper’s son studying for the HSC? He would need to find out when the next exams were. However, first things first.

Ned left his armchair and pulled up a seat beside Frank. “What’s got you muddled tonight?”

???

“But why do I need to care about the isthmus of Gibraltar?” Frank looked as exasperated as Ned felt. Teaching was proving to be both more rewarding and more frustrating than he had anticipated. Frank was an eager student, determined to learn everything Ned could throw at him, but had an equal amount of impatience.

“Dishes, please?” Charlie came into the dining-room-turned-classroom to gather the plates and bowls interspersed amongst books and paper. He met Ned’s eyes for a moment. As always, it made Ned happier than it should. Juggling bowls, Charlie turned to his son. “Gibraltar is home to Europe’s only species of monkeys.”

Frank sighed and returned to his geography reading, and Ned fought the urge to search Charlie’s face for his opinion. Ned wasn’t entirely sure what Charlie, or Betty, thought about his educational intervention.

Later, after Frank and Ellie had retreated to bed, Ned stood in the kitchen sipping port, watching Charlie wash the dishes.

Charlie was scouring a frying pan as Ned mulled about the day’s affairs at the office. “And then Miss Forbes threatened to debone me with a letter opener.”

“Sounds like you deserved it.”

“I thought you were supposed to have my back.”

Charlie turned and lifted an eyebrow at Ned. “Not against Helen Forbes, I don’t.”

“Fair enough,” Ned replied. “She also lent me two of her sister’s geography books to use with Frank.”

“I can’t help but think he’s getting a better education with you than he ever got at school.” Charlie let a plate soak at the bottom of the sink. “I was hoping to send them to school for as long as we could, maybe even to eighteen. But when the schools closed after the Blitz, we didn’t have much choice in the matter.”

Ned knew that Charlie hadn't gone past the mandatory schooling to twelve. His friend did well, read without hesitation, and could rapidly do figures in his mind, but Ned would still sometimes find Charlie frowning when Ned made a reference to literature or mathematics. “You have taught him everything that matters. Schooling between twelve and eighteen is only to keep boys from breaking things anyway.”

“You’re teaching him Latin.” Charlie rinsed the last of the cups, placing them on the drying rack.

“The universities will reopen at some point. Some of them require exams where knowledge of Latin will be tested.” Ned knew it was hugely presumptuous to think of such things, but he wanted Frank to have any opportunity he aspired to.

“Do you think living in Kensington, talking to you all the time, do you think it will make Frank and Ellie sound better? Not like me.”

“They speak well.” Ned wanted to take Charlie in his arms and tell him that any child would be lucky to sound like London itself, like home.

Charlie was staring at a plate soaking at the bottom of the sink. “You look damn tired.”

Ned rolled his shoulders and leaned back into his palms that were braced against the counter beside Charlie. “I’m not very popular with the War Office at the moment.”

“Have you convinced them? About the gas?”