Free Cushing's Crusade by Tim Jeal

went and sat down at a table in the far corner of the room. No long oak tables and minstrel’s gallery in the Linacre dining hall. A modern cafeteria, self-service, strip lighting and tables with blue, pink and green formica tops. The Victorian dining-hall had long since been split up to make more classrooms. Derek’s hand shook as he lifted his cup. Diana was looking round glumly at other parents sitting with their sons. The atmosphere was hushed, as though nobody wished the people at the adjacent tables to overhear what they were saying. Derek’s nervousness had increased, but the time, he told himself, had undoubtedly come. He pushed back his chair. ‘Just going to get something from the car.’ Before Diana could object he was threading his way across the room towards the door.
    When he returned, Derek was clutching a long cardboard box; from a distance he saw that Giles was now sitting beside his mother. Derek sat down and smiled at them both, then, without saying anything, he unwrapped the package and produced a large pair of green flippers and a matching face-mask and snorkel. A short silence and then Giles leaned across the table and grasped his father’s hand.
    ‘That’s fantastic’ The boy examined his mask more closely and fiddled with the adjustable strap. ‘I can’t wait to use them.’
    ‘You won’t have to,’ Derek replied, smiling at Diana, who was looking puzzled and put out. He breathed deeply and held onto the edge of the table. ‘We’re all going to Cornwall,’ he said, in atone that a man might have used in telling his family that he had won the pools or been made managing director of his company. Silence. Derek smiled nervously and gave a little cough. ‘Well, aren’t you pleased?’
    Giles looked confused and embarrassed. ‘But I’m going to scout camp.’
    Derek shook his head.
    ‘I’d rather you came with mummy and me,’ he replied gently. ‘I’ve written to the scout master.’
    ‘But your research,’ cut in Diana with unconcealed amazement.
    Derek studied the formica table top and sighed.
    ‘There are more important things in life than research,’ he murmured, and then, with a slight tremor in his voice, ‘You said that yourself and you were right. Of course you both come first.’
    Diana, who had been frowning to herself, suddenly took Derek’s hand and smiled.
    ‘It’s not that I’m not pleased; of course I am. But it is rather short notice. Have you told Charles yet?’
    ‘No,’ admitted Derek. ‘But he won’t mind. You heard him yourself the other day, telling us how disappointed he was that I wasn’t coming. He’ll be pleased too.’
    Derek felt less nervous already; perhaps he had underestimated himself to imagine that there could be any difficulties. After all what possible objections could Diana have raised to his changing his mind? She had pretended to be disappointed when he had stuck to his research. She could hardly go back on that now. A moment of doubt recurred when he heard her ask Giles whether he would mind missing his scout camp, but it was over the moment he heard the boy say, ‘I can always go next year.’
    ‘So it’s all fixed,’ cried Derek, clapping his hands and smiling broadly. He sipped his tea thoughtfully and then put down the cup with a clatter. His father. So intent had he been on judging her reactions to the news that he himself would be coming, he had briefly forgotten the deadlier bit of information he had to impart. He toyed with and then dismissed the idea of telling hisfather that it was all off. The problem was whether to tell her now while she was still shocked and surprised by his first revelation, or whether to wait till another occasion. Derek tried to think logically but without success. Better get it over with quickly.
    ‘I know the idea won’t immediately appeal to you‚’ he said to Diana, ‘so please don’t jump at me.’ He took a bite from a chocolate biscuit and chewed, giving himself time to think.