Lynda Plante - The Talisman

Barbara got up, flustered. She hadn’t expected them to return from New York for at least another week. ‘Did you have a pleasant Christmas? How is Ming, well?’

Alex smiled. Barbara could never resist getting her small digs in. He ignored the question. ‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Edward at all, have you?’

Barbara inspected her face in the mirror, gave him a veiled look. ‘I’m not likely to, am I?’

Alex looked at her reflection and was struck by her flawless skin, her still-beautiful face. She caught him staring at her, and made a move towards him. ‘Alex... Alex, I’ve missed you, can’t we at least talk?’

Just like his son he walked away from her, annoyed that he had even given her the opportunity to see the effect she still had on him. Unlike Evelyn he did not slam the door but closed it quietly and firmly behind him.

Alex was handed all the documents Edward had left for him. He asked Miss Henderson what had happened, if she knew where his brother could be contacted. All she could tell him was what had taken place the last time she had seen him, and then she handed him the sealed envelope.

‘Mrs Barkley is very sick, did you know?’

Alex was confused, for a moment thinking she was referring to Barbara, but then realized she was talking about Harriet.

‘She’s in a mental institution. She had a nervous breakdown just before Christmas. I have the address, and also Juliana is now in a boarding school.’

‘And you don’t know where Edward is? Didn’t he leave a contact number?’

‘No, Mr Barkley. The last thing he said to me was to make sure you received that envelope.’

Alex closed his office door, put down the thick file of all the listed documents left by Edward, saw the stack of signed cheques, and then opened the envelope. There was no letter, just a copy of Edward Barkley’s will, naming as sole heir his brother Alex Barkley. He read the small print carefully, but there seemed to be no hitch, no catch... Edward had disappeared simply handing Alex the reins. He wouldn’t know for how long, but he was going to make damned sure he would grab hold of them, maybe hold so tight that Edward would have a tough time getting them away from him when and if he returned.

Evelyn was sent to Harrow as a boarder. In this, his fourth year, along with two other pupils, he went down to Oxford Street and stole two records from a store. The three boys then got very drunk on the journey back to school. Two of the boys returned to their dormitory, but Evelyn passed out on the tennis courts. The housemaster discovered him the next morning as he went to play his regular eight o’clock game.

The boys had stolen the records while wearing their uniforms, and the school had already been informed about the theft. Evelyn was discovered holding the two albums in his arms — one by Jimi Hendrix, and the Beatles’ Sergeant Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band . He was expelled.

Barbara was having her hair blow-dried when he sauntered into her bedroom. ‘Good God, what are you doing at home?’

‘I thought you knew,’ he replied, cockily, ‘I’ve been given the old heave-ho... Where’s Dad?’

‘At the office of course, what have you done? Lyn? Evelyn! Will you come back here, I’m talking to you!’

Evelyn reappeared and leaned against the door, picking his nose. ‘What do you want?’

‘I want to know what you did this time? Have you any idea how difficult it was for your father to get a place for you at Harrow? It was bad enough in your junior school.’

‘No, I don’t know how difficult it was, but I’m sure you will tell me, Mother.’

‘I’m going to call him, right now. You are the most infuriating person I have ever met — and for God’s sake use a hankerchief.’

Evelyn walked out. He was fifteen years old and arrogantly self-assured. His voice had a resonant, plummy tone learned at Harrow. He had gained little, as far as Barbara and Alex could see, from his vastly expensive education apart from his nonchalant way of speaking. Academically he was either close to or bottom of the class. Only in sports did he excel. However, even his sports reports had begun to include the word ‘lazy’, and ‘unsporting conduct’ had been mentioned in two memos from his housemaster. Alex had hoped he could get to Cambridge on his prowess in the game of rugby, but of late even that had fallen below par.

He had grown very tall for his age. Although facially more like Edward than Barbara or Alex ever cared to mention, he had inherited his mother’s slenderness and would never be as tall or as big-boned as his father.

Alex was not at his office — he was at Harrow, desperately trying to salvage his son’s education, hoping to get the expulsion reduced to suspension. Evelyn had made no attempt to cover for his two friends, and they had been expelled along with him. Alex did not expect such sweeping and immediate action for what he deemed a small misdemeanour. All boys got a little drunk, didn’t they?

Evelyn’s housemaster was well aware of the donations Mr Barkley had made to the school, and it was his unfortunate task to tell him about his son. ‘I’m afraid it is a little more than simply getting drunk. Of course boys will be boys, but, Mr Barkley, I think perhaps for Evelyn’s benefit you should know the whole truth — and the truth is never pleasant.’

Alex accepted a cup of milky tea and waited.

‘We have, as you know, had a little trouble with Evelyn virtually from the word “go”. He does not conform, perhaps “will not” would be a better choice of words. To be frank, your son flatly refused to become an integral part of the school. Perhaps we could cope with that in time, many of our pupils come round to our ways of their own accord in the end. However, as I have said, Evelyn has been difficult. You must be aware of his indiscretions, the problems we have had with him. I am afraid, Mr Barkley, your son is a known cheat, verging on the pathological. He seems incapable of telling the truth. Again, we have to deal with all sorts of boys with problems caused by being removed from their own environment — but your son, Mr Barkley, is also a thief...’

Alex listened to the list of Evelyn’s offences, and the canings that had had no effect. He also heard about numerous letters sent to him by the school that had gone unanswered. The housemaster ate biscuits throughout the entire meeting, finally wiping his mouth with a greyish handkerchief. Alex suggested rather haughtily that perhaps he should not be talking to Evelyn’s housemaster but should take the matter to the head himself.

‘I am sorry, and I’m speaking on behalf of the Board of Governors when I say this, it is totally unacceptable for Evelyn to return even to finish this term...’

Alex found his wayward son at the office, pestering Miss Henderson. With a cold stare, he pointed in the direction of his own room. Evelyn wandered in and sat on Alex’s swivel chair.

‘Get out, that’s my chair... Get out, you stupid bastard.’

Evelyn sprang up fast. Alex slammed the door and threw his briefcase down, his face red with rage. He spat out his words, his eyes like knives. ‘You’re a thief, a liar, a cheat... and that’s just for starters. You get drunk, vomit all over the tennis courts and are foolish enough to pass out there so the housemaster can’t help but find you... If I were you, I’d wipe that fucking smile off your stupid, smug face. I paid good money, big money, to swing a place for you at Harrow... You had the opportunity of a lifetime, not just the education but for contacts later in life, when you left... and what did you do? You chucked it away for a lousy Rolling Stones’ record. Well? You got anything to say? You got something to say about it?’