Wild Jack Read Free Page B

Sherrins went back to Southampton. The setting was middle distance so they were both on screen, with a view behind them of crumbling stone walls and the blue waters of the Mediterranean. They asked me how things were, and I told them fine.
    My mother said, “I’ve talked your father into taking a yacht and exploring some of the smaller islands, so we shall be out of touch for a week or so. Will you be all right?”
    I nodded. “Of course. It’s a great idea.”
    My father said, “It means getting back to school on your own.”
    He sounded a bit anxious, but he tended to be about things like that. They were very different in temperament. She was quieter, more reserved, and more willing to give me credit for being able to look after myself.
    I said, “That’s OK. Bobby will see to everything. He’s already started my packing.”
    We talked for a while, or rather my father did, telling me about Rhodes and the various things they had been doing. I got the impression it had been either sightseeing or sitting in the sun with a glass of something long and cool: not exactly my best notion of a holiday but obviously they were enjoying it. Later my father wanted to have a word with Mr. Sherrin, and I had him called and adjusted the visiphone to get him in alongside me. He thanked my father for the use of the house, and my father asked him how things had gone in London. “Reasonably well,” he said, smiling. I guessed that could be politics.
    After we had said good-bye and closed contact, Mr. Sherrin said, “I’m glad your father is having a goodrest. He needs one. He drives himself very hard.”
    â€œYes, I know.”
    â€œNot like me.” Mr. Sherrin smiled. “I believe in taking things easy. By the way, I thought we might all go out for a meal this evening, since it’s our last night. That place that’s opened in the old Tower of London might be worth trying.”
    â€œSure,” I said. “Great.”
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    The Sherrins had come up from Southampton by airship, and the following morning I went to the airport with them to see them off. Mr. and Mrs. Sherrin sat drinking coffee while they were waiting, and I managed to get Miranda away on the excuse of getting soft drinks from the dispenser.
    I said, “It’s been great having you here. Pity you have to go back so soon.”
    She shrugged, smiling. “Yes. There it is, though. School tomorrow.”
    â€œYes. Me, too. Can I call you there?”
    She shook her head. “No outside calls except in emergencies. And then we have a teacher sitting in on them.”
    â€œCan I write you?”
    â€œIf you want to.”
    â€œI do.”
    â€œGood.” She smiled again. “I’ll write back. I was wondering. . . .”
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œWhether it might be possible for you to come down and stay with us in the next holidays.”
    â€œYes! I mean, if you’re sure, I’d love to.”
    â€œI’ll fix it. Look who’s here.”
    I turned and saw Gary coming toward us. He had known, of course, that the Sherrins were leaving this morning, but I had deliberately not suggested his coming along. My greeting was chilly. He was chilly back, and concentrated on talking to Miranda. For the five minutes that remained before they were called we battled through a two-sided conversation, with Miranda having to cope with both channels. She did it very well, smiling at us in turn.
    When it came to good-byes, though, she shook hands with Gary but offered me her cheek, which I kissed clumsily but triumphantly. Then she and her parents went up the ramp into the airship, appearing a moment or two later at one of the observation windows. We waved to her, and she waved back.
    The airship’s engine hummed and it started to lift off. We watched it, still waving. I could not resist saying, “Miranda’s asked me to stay with them