Return to Fourwinds by Elisabeth Gifford

and swaying to the music, her face intent and almost angry.
    He jumped. Behind him in the shadows of the hallway stood Mr Hanbury, tall in a double-breasted suit. A cloud of alcohol, not so much like the thick beer smell from Dad, but something finer; the word brandy came to mind. Mr Hanbury’s handsome, matinee idol face had a high colour. He drew on a small cigar.
    â€˜I see we have yet another music lover among us. Well, go on in then, boy.’
    Mr Hanbury took the chair by the fireplace. He struck a match for another small cigar, waved it along to the music, taking sips of smoke. Peter felt like a lemon standing there, unexplained and awkward just inside the door. The others glanced at him but carried on as if under an urgent spell to finish the tune. He let the buzz of the cello reverberate in his chest, felt the thumps of the piano through his feet, Alice’s violin bow sawing his heart into slices.
    When they stopped Mr Hanbury clapped. Alice came over to her father’s chair, leant down over the back and slid her arms round her father’s neck. ‘You went out again.’
    â€˜I see you rotters didn’t wait for me for supper.’
    â€˜Shall I ask Maudey, dear?’
    â€˜No. No. In fact I ate there.’
    â€˜And you brought Peter in to listen to our Schubert.’
    â€˜I found him outside the door, trying to listen through the crack.’
    Peter blushed.
    â€˜Oh, it’s not nice to listen outside doors, Peter,’ said Mrs Hanbury mildly.
    â€˜But you enjoyed the Schubert, didn’t you, Peter?’ Alice came and took his hand, led him to a chair.
    He nodded hard.
    â€˜You see,’ she addressed the room. ‘Given the opportunity theydon’t just want to listen to big bands and George Formby and all that kind of ephemera. It’s all a question of educating minds, raising everybody up to the same level.’
    â€˜It would certainly help if they would hurry up and find some places in the local schools for these evacuees,’ said Mrs Hanbury. ‘They are saying we might have to wait until they can organise some kind of shift system to accommodate all the children. In the meantime Peter is going to be wandering around with little to do.’ She shook her head.
    â€˜Do you read books, Peter?’ Alice looked at him, frowning, as if he needed adjusting properly in some way. He brushed a hand across his face in case it had a mark on it.
    â€˜I love books, me, miss.’
    â€˜Well, that’s splendid. There are stacks of them up in my room. Would you like me to pick some out for you, Peter?’
    â€˜Yes please.’
    â€˜Well, I’m so glad you know how to read.’
    â€˜I took exam for the grammar school, miss. I passed it, miss.’
    â€˜You were attending Manchester Grammar, Peter?’ said Mrs Hanbury.
    â€˜I passed, but I weren’t going to go in the end.’
    â€˜But you should have seized the opportunity,’ Alice told him. ‘Why on earth didn’t you go?’
    â€˜Ma saved money in tin, but when it were time to buy the uniform it were empty. Me dad took the money. So we couldn’t buy uniform.’
    From the expression on Alice’s face Peter realised that he had just said something that put him even further away from her comprehension.
    â€˜That’s awful. How can people live like that? You’ve got to do something about it, Daddy. Can’t you speak to the right people, please? Find him a place here?’
    Mr Hanbury shrugged. ‘I can try, for you.’
    Standing in front of the fireplace Alice launched into a small lecture.
    â€˜You see, if we can’t educate the masses upwards, then how can we have a society that can work together? I agree with Richard, the only class system now is education, and once everyone has access to that, well then.’ With her high-domed forehead and finely cut chin Alice looked far too fragile to be holding so much righteous