Dennis Wheatley - Unholy Crusade

Arrangements had been made for him to go up to Cambridge and, his ambitions having been fired by his membership of the Literary Society, he now hoped to become a professional writer, which would enable him to travel.

Then, three days after Adam left Marlborough for the last time; Teddy Ruffan had an apoplectic fit and died. Although it was not fully brought home to Adam for some days, for the second time the bottom had dropped out of his world.

Greatly stricken, Adam attended the funeral of his bluff patron and there, for the first time, met the heir. He was a distant cousin and had nothing whatever in common with his predecessor, who had disliked and ignored him. The new heir was in his fifties, married and with six children. He acidly informed Adam at an interview they had some days later that his late cousin had left his affairs in a scandalous tangle and it was now emerging that he had played ducks and drakes with the family fortune.

As Adam regarded the narrow, bony face opposite him, with its

little, pursed up mouth, he did not feel particularly sorry for its owner; but he did feel a sudden uneasiness on his own account, and, as he soon learned, with ample justification.

It transpired that his late benefactor had left him five hundred pounds in his Will, but had made no provision for the completion of his education. Aunt Flora was to receive the life tenancy of a cottage and a small pension, but the Castle was to be sold; so he was to lose what he had come to regard as his home.

The new Lord Ruffian went on to say with oily smoothness, `On several occasions my cousin refused my pleas to help me with the education of my own children; so I am sure you would not expect me to pay for that of a young man like yourself who is not even a member of the family. It is regrettable that you may have to revise your plans for going up to Cambridge. But you have reached the age when you should have no difficulty in getting a job. I therefore suggest that you set about finding one without delay.'

So that was that. The legacy and a little nest egg that he still had in National Savings Certificates would certainly not see him through three years at Cambridge. The social background he had acquired, as almost one of the jovial Lord Ruffan's family, had disappeared overnight. The only place that he might in future think of as home was the small cottage to be occupied by his dour Aunt Flora. He must try to get a job, and soon, but he had only the vaguest ideas how to set about it.

Sadly he packed his belongings and next morning said goodbye to Loudly Hall, where he had spent so many pleasant holidays, and went up to Scotland. Aunt Flora had received a letter from the Ruffan lawyers, but she was not unduly depressed. It seemed quite a possibility that whoever bought the Castle would be glad to reinstate her as housekeeper and she could then make a little extra money by letting the cottage. But Adam knew that with her limited resources there could be no question of her helping him to go through Cambridge.

Having assessed his qualifications for a job, he felt that he could almost certainly secure an appointment as a junior master in a private school. Then during the holidays he would have time to write for magazines, and later start a novel; so he wrote to his ex housemaster at Marlborough, stated his position and asked him to let him have testimonials to support an application for a post.

The housemaster replied cordially and sympathetically but, instead of enclosing testimonials, said that he was consulting the Head, as he thought they might find him something better than

the sort of job he had in mind

Then his lucky star moved into the ascendant once again. He received a letter from the Headmaster, who said they had been so concerned about his talents going to waste through not completing his education that they had persuaded the Dean of the University of Southampton to grant him a scholarship.

With no fees to pay, Teddy Ruffan's legacy and his own savings would just see him through. In new heart and determined to do well, Adam went south again towards the end of that September, to become an undergraduate.

His three years at Southampton were uneventful. The students at the University had much more varied backgrounds than had the boys at Marlborough. Some came from rich homes, but a high proportion had to be as careful of their money as Adam; so his limited means placed him at no disadvantage. He soon had a group of pleasant friends, entered into many of the social activities and fully justified his sponsors' expectations of him by achieving his B.A., and double Firsts in History and English Literature.

As a university student his call up had been deferred, but after graduating he had to do his National Service and went into the Navy. Having completed his initial training he was posted to a minesweeper, where his cheerful willingness soon made him popular with both his mess mates and officers. It was then that he grew his golden beard and was given the nickname of `the Viking' but, although he enjoyed the life, he could not help feeling that he was getting nowhere with his ambitions to make a literary career for himself.

After a time he was given a course in W/T and became a proficient radio operator; then, for some reason he never discovered he was transferred to Portsmouth and given a clerical job on the Admiral's staff. There he found the work easy and in his off duty hours was able to take full advantage of the excellent recreation provided, including the Saturday night dances held in the big N.A.A.F.I. hall.

Since Adam had lost his sisters he had had little to do with girls and had known none intimately. His holidays from school had all been spent in the country, where he had admired a few girls he had chanced to meet, but had had no opportunity to follow up the acquaintance, and at Southampton University he had deliberately avoided the many girls who endeavoured to attract his attention, because he could not afford to take any of them out regularly. In consequence, at twenty two he was very much shyer than most young men of his age, and it was only with some difficulty that his mates persuaded him to accompany them to his first Saturday evening dance.

When he entered the hall his fine `Viking' head towered over those of his companions and, within a few minutes, bright eyes were fixed upon it from all directions. A score of pretty girls began to badger his friends for an introduction and, when he apologetically explained that he would make a poor partner because he had been to very few dances, several girls eagerly volunteered to teach him the latest steps. Among them was Polly.

She was a curvaceous blonde with a big mouth, rather full, highly coloured cheeks, a tip tilted nose and green eyes. Her father owned an ironmongery shop in which she worked, but only for part of the day, as her mother had died some eighteen months before and she had since kept house for her father in the flat above the shop. All this Adam learned during the three dances he had with her, and he thought her far more attractive than any of the other girls; so after their third dance, he asked if he might see her home.

Being as smitten with the handsome young giant as he was with her opulent charms, she readily assented and, ruthlessly cutting her obligation to the fellow who had brought her, suggested that they should slip away at once.

It was a fine, warm night and they walked through the almost deserted streets hand in hand, happily exchanging first confidences about themselves. In due course, to Adam's surprise, she turned out of the street into a long, narrow alley between high brick walls with, here and there, wooden gates outside which dustbins stood. She then explained that when the shop was shut she always used the back entrance; then, fifty yards along the alley, she opened a gate and drew him through it.