Jeffrey Archer - Only Time Will Tell

‘You’re going to have to face that problem all your life, Harry,’ said Old Jack. ‘The English are the biggest snobs on earth, and most of the time without reason. The lesser the talent, the bigger the snob, in my experience. It’s the only way the so-called upper classes can hope to survive. Be warned, my boy, they don’t care for upstarts like you who barge into their club without an invitation.’

‘But you don’t treat me like that,’ said Harry.

‘That’s because I’m not upper class,’ said Old Jack, laughing.

‘Perhaps not, but my mum says you’re first class,’ said Harry, ‘so that’s what I want to be.’

It didn’t help that Old Jack couldn’t tell Harry the real reason Mr Hugo was always so off-hand. He sometimes wished he hadn’t been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and witnessed what had really happened the day the boy’s father died.

‘Have you fallen asleep again, old man?’ said Harry. ‘Because I can’t hang around chatting to you all day. I promised my mum I’d meet her at Clarks in the Broad because she wants to buy me a new pair of shoes. Not that I can see what’s wrong with the pair I’ve got.’

‘Special lady, your mum,’ said Old Jack.

‘That’s why I’m buying her a watch,’ said Harry.

The bell above the door rang as he entered the shop. Old Jack hoped that enough time had passed to ensure that Private Deakins wouldn’t remember him.

‘Good morning, sir. How can I help you?’

Old Jack couldn’t fail to recognize Mr Deakins immediately. He smiled and walked across to the display cabinet and studied the two watches on the top shelf. ‘I just need to know the price of this Ingersoll.’

‘The lady’s or the gentleman’s model, sir?’ asked Mr Deakins, coming out from behind the counter.

‘The lady’s,’ said Old Jack.

Deakins unlocked the cabinet with his one hand, deftly removed the watch from its stand, checked the label and said, ‘Sixteen shillings, sir.’

‘Good,’ said Old Jack, and placed a ten-bob note on the counter. Mr Deakins looked even more puzzled. ‘When Harry Clifton asks you how much the watch is, Mr Deakins, please tell him it’s six shillings, because that’s how much he will have saved by the time he stops working for you, and I know he’s hoping to buy it as a present for his mother.’

‘You must be Old Jack,’ said Deakins. ‘He’ll be so touched that you…’

‘But you won’t ever tell him,’ said Old Jack, looking Mr Deakins in the eye. ‘I want him to believe that the price of the watch is six shillings.’

‘I understand,’ said Mr Deakins, placing the watch back on the stand.

‘And how much is the man’s watch?’

‘One pound.’

‘Would you allow me to put down another ten bob as a deposit, and then give you half a crown a week for the next month until I’ve paid off the full amount?’

‘That is quite acceptable, sir. But wouldn’t you like to try it on first?’

‘No, thank you,’ said Old Jack. ‘It’s not for me. I’m going to give it to Harry when he wins a scholarship to Bristol Grammar School.’

‘I had the same thought,’ said Mr Deakins, ‘should my son Algy be fortunate enough to win one.’

‘Then you’d better order another one pretty quickly,’ said Old Jack, ‘because Harry tells me your son’s a racing certainty.’

Mr Deakins laughed, and took a closer look at Old Jack. ‘Have we met before, sir?’

‘I don’t think so,’ said Old Jack, and left the shop without another word.

IF MUHAMMAD WON’T COME to the mountain… Old Jack smiled to himself as he rose to greet Mr Holcombe and offered him a seat.

‘Would you care to join me in the buffet car for a cup of tea?’ Old Jack asked. ‘Mrs Clifton was kind enough to supply me with a quite excellent packet of Earl Grey.’

‘No, thank you sir,’ said Holcombe, ‘I’ve only just had breakfast.’

‘So, the boy just missed out on a scholarship,’ said Old Jack, assuming that was what the schoolmaster had come to see him about.

‘Failed is how Harry looks upon it,’ said Holcombe, ‘despite coming seventeenth out of three hundred, and being offered a place in the school’s A stream this September.’

‘But will he be able to accept the offer? It will place an extra financial burden on his mother.’

‘As long as there are no unexpected bombshells, she should be able to get Harry through the next five years.’

‘Even so, Harry won’t be able to afford the little extras most of the other boys will take for granted.’

‘Possibly, but I have managed to cover some of his sundry expenses from the school’s list, so he’ll be able to consider at least two of the three extra-curricular activities he’s keen to sign up for.’

‘Let me guess,’ said Old Jack. ‘The choir, the theatre club and…?’

‘Art appreciation,’ said Holcombe. ‘Miss Monday and Miss Tilly are taking responsibility for any trips the choir might make, I’m covering the theatre club and…’

‘So I get art appreciation,’ said Old Jack. ‘His new passion. I can still hold my own with Harry when it comes to Rembrandt and Vermeer, even this new chap, Matisse. Now he’s trying to get me interested in a Spaniard called Picasso, but I can’t see it myself.’

‘I’ve never heard of him,’ admitted Holcombe.

‘And I doubt if you ever will,’ said Old Jack, ‘but don’t tell Harry I said so.’ He picked up a small tin box, opened it, and took out three notes and almost all the coins he possessed.

‘No, no,’ said Holcombe, ‘that isn’t the reason I came to see you. In fact, I plan to visit Mr Craddick later this afternoon, and I’m confident he’ll-’

‘I think you’ll find that I take precedence over Mr Craddick,’ said Old Jack, handing across the money.

‘That’s very generous of you.’

‘Money well spent,’ said Old Jack, ‘even if it is the widow’s mite. At least my father would approve,’ he added as an afterthought.

‘Your father?’ repeated Holcombe.

‘He’s the resident canon at Wells Cathedral.’

‘I had no idea,’ said Holcombe. ‘So at least you’re able to visit him from time to time.’

‘Sadly not. I fear I am a modern prodigal son,’ said Old Jack. Not wishing to go any further down that road, he said, ‘So tell me, young man, why did you want to see me?’

‘I can’t remember the last occasion anyone called me “young man”.’

‘Just be grateful that anyone still does,’ said Old Jack.

Holcombe laughed. ‘I’ve got a couple of tickets for the school play, Julius Caesar . As Harry is performing, I thought you might like to join me for the opening night.’

‘I knew he was auditioning,’ said Old Jack. ‘What part did he get?’

‘He’s playing Cinna,’ said Holcombe.

‘Then we’ll know him by his gait.’

Holcombe bowed low. ‘Does that mean you’ll join me?’

‘I fear not,’ said Old Jack, raising a hand. ‘It’s extremely kind of you to think of me, Holcombe, but I’m not yet ready for a live performance, even as just a member of the audience.’

Old Jack was disappointed to miss Harry’s performance in the school play and had to be satisfied with being told the boy’s version of how he had performed. The following year, when Holcombe suggested that perhaps Old Jack should attend because Harry’s roles were getting bigger, he nearly gave in, but it wasn’t until Harry played Puck, a year later, that he finally allowed the dream a reality.