Chapter Nine #2
‘I beg your pardon?’ Her heart was hammering and she felt breathless. ‘Good God, Peter … Whatever am I to do with you?’
‘Please, Miss Tiptree, try to stay calm,’ Mr Beeton said. ‘There’s no need for you to do anything. Peter has already been punished.’
She sank back onto the seat, feeling as though she were in a nightmare. ‘P-Punished?’
‘I was given the cane,’ Peter muttered, staring at the floor.
Her sense of shock disappeared, replaced by fury. ‘But how barbarous … You beat him?’ she gasped. ‘Why on earth was that considered necessary, Headmaster?’
Mr Beeton raised his brows. ‘Miss Tiptree, attempted arson is not the kind of behaviour we expect of our pupils. You should be grateful we didn’t involve the authorities. Your nephew could have caused a great deal of damage to school property, and even endangered the lives of everyone here.’
Selina wrung her hands, not sure what to do. ‘Peter? You didn’t seriously try to burn down the sports pavilion, did you?’
She hoped he would deny it. But Peter gave a brusque nod.
‘Yes, I did,’ he agreed, still not meeting her eyes. ‘So you’d better take me home.’
She searched his face. ‘You want to be expelled?’
But the headmaster interrupted this line of questioning, getting to his feet.
‘Perhaps it’s for the best. Peter has been given every chance to fit in with the other pupils here, but he’s made enemies rather than friends, and more than once been involved in a brawl.
Believe me, Miss Tiptree, he’s caused nothing but trouble since he came to us.
He’s been caned, given detentions and lines, and been spoken to on numerous occasions. None of it has had any impact.’
Selina glared at the headmaster with cold fury.
‘If you think punishing a boy with caning and extra work, or a good talking-to, are policies that will ever prosper with a boy who’s clearly homesick and grieving for his late mother, then you are a fool, Mr Beeton, and have no business running a school.
’ She took Peter’s hand, squeezing it reassuringly.
‘Goodbye, Headmaster. We can see ourselves out.’
And she swept from the room, keeping Peter tight by her side.
It wasn’t until they were almost ten miles down the road that she finally found her voice. ‘Why did you try to set fire to the sports pavilion?’ she queried. ‘And please don’t tell me it was a prank gone wrong, for I won’t believe it.’
When Peter said nothing, she risked taking her eyes off the road to glance at him. That was when she realised that the boy was crying.
‘Oh, Peter!’ Hurriedly, she pulled onto the verge.
‘Come here.’ She gave him a hug, and felt him shudder into sobs.
‘Poor boy … I’ve let you down badly. None of this would have happened if I’d kept you at Thornton Hall with your sisters.
But your mother was so insistent that you should get a good education.
And you’ve been to boarding school before and seemed to enjoy yourself. What went wrong?’
‘I … I didn’t make a single friend,’ he stammered.
‘They all hated me from the start. The other boys made fun of my accent. Said I was “proper Cornish” and called me a peasant. When I told my housemaster, he said I should harden up and stop being a crybaby. And I tried, Aunt Selly. Only, the other boys were cross that I’d told on them.
They called me a weasel, and stole my books, and scribbled rude words over my homework so I’d get in trouble for it.
And sports was the worst thing ever … You know how rubbish I am at rugby.
The others said I was letting the side down.
They took turns punching and kicking me to make me tougher. ’
‘Good God!’ Selina trembled with rage at how badly her nephew had been treated. ‘I should drive straight back there and explain all this to that awful headmaster.’
‘Please don’t,’ Peter begged her, bursting into fresh tears. ‘I never want to go back to that school. I’d rather die!’
‘It’s all right, I won’t take you back. There’s no need to cry, it’s all over.’ She started the engine again. ‘Let’s go home to Thornton Hall.’ As she pulled away, she felt the tyres slither and slide under them, and pulled a face. ‘Oops … That’s assuming I can get us home in one piece.’
‘I believe in you, Aunt Selly,’ Peter insisted, wiping his damp face with his sleeve. ‘By the way, this is a smashing car,’ he added, with a touch of his old enthusiasm. ‘Not as bang-up as Mr MacGregor’s Wolseley, of course. But still smashing.’
It took twice as long to return in the dark, especially with snow on the roads, but Selina felt proud of herself on reaching Thornton Hall by late evening without once crashing into a ditch on the snowy roads.
Wearily, they let themselves into the hall, only to find the girls running towards them, with Nancy and Mrs Hawley behind.
‘Welcome home, Peter!’ Jemima cried, and threw herself into his arms.
Faith danced about them, clapping her hands for joy. ‘Peter, Peter,’ she chanted until he bent to give her a hug too.
‘You’re here very late, Mrs Hawley. Nothing wrong, I hope?’ Selina asked anxiously.
‘No, ma’am. I couldn’t go home without knowing whether you’d got back safely with Master Peter,’ the housekeeper admitted.
She beamed at the lad indulgently. ‘It’s marvellous to see you home again,’ she told him, and Peter grinned, shuffling his feet in embarrassment.
‘I’ve kept supper warm for you both. Shall I serve it in the dining room, ma’am? ’
‘Yes, please, Mrs Hawley. We’re famished.’
‘Oh, and this letter came for you.’
‘Thank you.’
Jemima was excitedly introducing Peter to his cousin Nancy, so Selina tore open the envelope and quickly read over the contents.
It was from Caroline, begging her again to visit Postbridge Farm, and telling her there would be plenty of room if she came straightaway, as Mrs Newton was going to stay with Lily and Tristan in Penzance for at least two weeks.
And Violet’s permission had already been sought and given, so there would be no trouble from Mrs and Mrs Postbridge.
‘Does this mean you’re home for good, Peter?’ Nancy was asking. ‘Or has the school sent you home because you’re unwell?’
Selina watched unhappily as a stammering, red-faced Peter tied himself in knots, trying to explain his return without admitting that he’d been expelled. It was clear the boy wasn’t ready to talk about it yet, not even with family. But his expulsion could hardly be kept a secret for long.
She dreaded to think what might have happened if Peter had been left in that horrid place even a single day longer.
But she could see that bringing him home had only been half the battle.
He would not readily get over all the beastly things they’d done to him at that school.
The thought of him suffering such torments made her heart ache with guilt, knowing she was partly to blame for having sent him away against his will.
Perhaps a trip to Porthcurno might be just the thing for her nephew.
Somewhere new, with people who didn’t know him or his history, where he could relax for a week or two before knuckling down to books and learning again with Mr Harrington.
And she felt sure his sisters would be perfectly happy here alone for a short while, now their capable cousin Nancy had come to stay.
Nancy had originally asked to be their nanny, after all.
It could be a trial run for her, to see how the young woman coped with the girls on her own.
And if she got into difficulties, Mrs Hawley was usually around, and William was only a telephone call away.
Yes, a few days in Porthcurno sounded like just the ticket. Folding Caroline’s letter back into its envelope, Selina smiled, wondering if Violet Postbridge wouldn’t mind catering for an extra guest …