Young bloods

'Damn you, Smith,' he growled. 'Damn you and all those fools to hell.'

'What did you say, Wesley?' Bobus called out from the river, swimming closer to the bank.'Spit it out! If you are man enough, that is.'

Without thinking, Arthur bent over, snatched up a handful of gravel from the path and hurled it towards his tormentor. A scattershot of small pebbles and pieces of grit thrashed the water around Smith and several stung his face. He cried out, more in surprise than pain, and with a howl of rage swam straight for Arthur.

Arthur's guts turned to ice as he stared towards the river. He had no wish to fight Smith on a day like this, and the prospect of having his good spirits dashed made his heart fill with a simmering anger and resentment.

'All right, then,' he muttered to himself. He dropped his book on to the grass and clenched his fists as Smith's feet scrambled for purchase on the river bottom and then he waded ashore like a rock bursting from the sea. There was no preamble, no studied taking of position, just a mad scramble as Smith, naked and dripping, hurled himself forwards. Arthur crouched to lower his centre of balance, and raised his fists. At the last moment, he ducked to one side and stuck out his foot, hoping to trip his enemy. But the movement was mistimed. Instead of tripping Smith, the shoe stamped down on his toes with a loud crack and Smith pitched forward on to the ground with a howl of agony. For an instant Arthur was too shocked by his mistake to act. His fists relaxed and he was about to apologise when he saw the merciless look of hatred in Smith's expression.Any hesitation now would be fatal. Arthur tightened his fists again and closed in on Smith. He swung his foot back and kicked the boy in the knee, causing a fresh cry of pain, then in the knee again, before stamping on his other foot.When Smith, screaming now, reached for his toes Arthur moved round and slammed several blows against the side of Smith's head, and finally, and with all the strength he could muster, threw his fist straight at Smith's pug nose. When his knuckles co

Arthur stared at him. 'Oh Christ! What have I done?'

Around him there was a moment's stillness before the other boys on the river bank began to move hesitantly in his direction. From the river came the sound of splashing as Smith's friends swam to the bank and emerged. A circle formed around Arthur and the still form of Smith, sprawled in the grass.They glanced at Smith and then Arthur, and he saw the nervousness in their expressions. One of them looked him straight in the eye and gave an approving nod. A small boy, a first year, squeezed through the crowd and stared open-mouthed.

'Th-that's Bobus Smith!' he said in a voice shrill with excitement. He looked at Arthur in awe and said. 'Is he… is he dead?'

Arthur knocked on the door.

'Come in, Wesley!' The housemaster's voice boomed from inside his study. Arthur, who had been summoned directly from the classroom, turned the knob and pushed the heavy oak panelled door open. Inside, the room was large and comfortably furnished. Seated behind his desk was Mr Chalkcraft. On the other side, in two smaller chairs, sat Lady Mornington and Richard. Arthur had no idea they were coming to Eton and instantly suspected the worst. He gave them the barest nods of greeting before he lowered his gaze to the floor.

'Over here by the desk, boy. And stand straight.'

Arthur did as he was told, terribly uncomfortable under the eyes of his mother and brother.

'You know why you're here,' said Chalkcraft. It was impossible to tell whether it was a question or a statement.

'Is it to do with Smith, sir?'

'Of course. What else? Smith's still in the sanitorium. Three broken toes. A broken nose and suffering from that blow to the head. Not a pretty sight.'

'No, sir,' Arthur replied with feeling. 'But I can't claim all the credit for his noisome appearance.'

His mother shifted uneasily in her chair and Richard glared at him. Only the housemaster seemed at all amused, and struggled to hide a quick smirk.

'Yes, well. It's a serious matter, Wesley. Can't have boys demolishing each other so comprehensively. Why, soon there'd be no students left. This is a damned school, not a boxing club.'

'I'm sorry, sir.'

'I should hope you are. I've had to ask your mother and His Lordship to attend the school to discuss this matter. Now there's no point in prevaricating, so I'll tell you straight away. You're leaving the school at the end of next term.'

Arthur glanced round at the three adults. 'I'm being expelled?' He felt a surge of indignation. 'But I was defending myself.'

'Quiet!' Chalkcraft raised a hand. 'You are not being expelled. I did not say that you were being asked to leave. Besides, it is not entirely a question of your treatment of Smith. After discussing your progress, or lack of it, at Eton, your brother, mother and I have agreed that your continuing at the school would be pointless.You just don't seem to fit in here,Wesley.That's all there is to it. So your brother has given a term's notice of his intention to withdraw you from the school.'

Arthur looked at Richard, struggling to hide his terribly injured pride. 'I see.'

Richard met his accusing gaze levelly. 'You've been here three years, Arthur. I've seen your records. Not only are you failing to make the grade in your school year, but your marks are even lower than most of the pupils in the years below you. Frankly, there are better uses to which the family can put the money we have been spending on your school fees. And, I know that you are not happy here.'

It was the truth,Arthur conceded.All of it.Yet now that he was faced with the consequences of three years of lassitude, he felt injured by the accusation that he had not matched up to the standard expected of him. Suddenly, he wanted to stay at Eton with a passion, rather than accept that his withdrawal would provide yet more proof of his inadequacy.

'I want to stay,' he responded quietly.

Richard smiled.'No you don't. I know you would like to think you do. And what if you did stay here? Your record is already blotted as far as your teacher and the other pupils are concerned. However much you might try to change, they would hold your past against you. After that fracas with Smith, you could hardly blame them.'

Lady Mornington sniffed. 'And you can be sure that that vicious prig Sidney Smith is making London society fully aware of what Arthur has done to his little brother.'

'Yes, Mother,' Richard interrupted. 'But we're not here to discuss your feud with Sidney Smith. We're discussing what's best for Arthur, remember?'

'Yes. Of course I remember,' she snapped, and Arthur was suddenly aware that much more had been discussed prior to this meeting in the housemaster's study.Whatever he said now was not going to change anything. Decisions about his future had already been made. His mother turned to him and smiled.

'Arthur, dear, I want you to come and live with me. It seems I've neglected you for far too long.Would you like that? I'm sure you would. In any case, I've decided that it's time to quit London.'

'Leave London?' Arthur replied, his mind racing with images of returning to Dangan. 'I'd like that.'

'I knew it,' Lady Mornington smiled at him.'I'm so glad.That's settled then. As soon as you finish here at Eton, we'll pack our bags and leave. I'll make sure I find a nice place for us while you complete your last term.'

'Find a place?' Arthur was confused. 'What place?'

'Why, some nice rooms for us,' his mother continued. 'In Brussels.'

'Brussels?'

'Yes. A lovely city. So I've heard.' A