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Authors: Simon Brett
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table, placing a large mug of tea in front of her, gave Mrs Pargeter a moment to shape her reply. 'It's just that I've heard Jenny's name mentioned round Brotherton Hall . . . you know the place I mean?'
The contemptuous nod showed exactly what Tom O'Brien thought of health spas – and the kind of people who frequented them.
'I've heard rumours,' Mrs Pargeter went on, 'that Jenny may even have booked in there for a while.'
The interest faded from the boy's eyes. 'Well, they're crap rumours then. Even assuming Jenny would ever want to go to a place like that . . . And she wouldn't! Just because she's at Cambridge, don't imagine she's some bone-headed upper-class snob. Jenny's got her head firmly screwed on – she's not a class traitor like some of those social-climbing girls you meet at . . .' He realized he was getting off the subject. 'What I'm saying is there's no way she could have afforded to go to somewhere like Brotherton Hall. That was Jenny's problem, for God's sake – she didn't have any money.'
'But, just imagining for a moment that she somehow found the money . . .'
'If she'd found any money, there's a million other things she would have spent it on.'
'Or if someone had given her the stay at a health spa as a present . . .'
The thought he might have a rival brought a haunted look into Tom's eyes. 'Who?' he demanded. 'Do you know there was someone?'
'No, no, I'm just imagining. But what I really want to know is – would Jenny have had any reason to go to a health spa?'
The boy looked confused by the question.
'What Mrs Pargeter means,' Truffler elucidated, 'is – was Jenny fat?'
'Oh. No. Well, not particularly.' A distant hunger of recollection, softened his words. 'She was . . . well-rounded and . . .' He cleared his throat. 'Certainly not thin, anyway.'
Mrs Pargeter tried to force from her mind the skeletal body she had seen on the trolley at Brotherton Hall. 'And she never expressed a desire to go to a health spa?'
'No, no, of course she didn't. She wouldn't have dared.'
'Why do you say that?'
'Because she knew I'd disapprove of poncy places like that.'
'And she wouldn't have done anything you disapproved of?'
The question was casual, but Tom O'Brien was instantly aware of its subtext. 'And I don't mean because I was a chauvinist, Mrs Pargeter. Jenny and I talked a lot, about everything. We thought alike about the really important things.'
'And what would you say are the really important things?'
There was no hesitation about his reply. The issues were ones he had thought through in great detail and about which he was passionate. 'The environment, obviously. That's the most important item on the world's agenda. If we don't get that sorted out, then it's all over for humankind. We've got to make people think differently. So long as their dominant motive remains profit and money-making, nothing's going to get any better. There'll be more poison pumped into the atmosphere, more forests cut down, more animal species sacrificed in the cause of consumerist experimentation. We've got to change the world whilst we still have a world left to change!'
Mrs Pargeter, though never an activist herself for any cause, could respect such fervour in others. And there was no doubting the boy's sincerity.
'So in order to change the world, do you reckon you can use any methods?'
'Of course you can.'
' Any methods? I mean, even violence and terrorism?'
Tom O'Brien's lips set in a hard line. ' Particularly violence and terrorism.'
'You think the end justifies the means?'
'It must do! If you stop and think of the violence that man's committed against the natural world, then a bit of necessary violence against man to restore the balance . . . well, it's a small price to pay.'
'And what kind of violence are you talking about? Sabotage? Bombings?'
'Yes.'
'Killing people?'
'Oh yes. When it's necessary,' Tom O'Brien replied with the quiet righteousness of the fanatic.
CHAPTER 14
The boy's pale blue eyes
The contemptuous nod showed exactly what Tom O'Brien thought of health spas – and the kind of people who frequented them.
'I've heard rumours,' Mrs Pargeter went on, 'that Jenny may even have booked in there for a while.'
The interest faded from the boy's eyes. 'Well, they're crap rumours then. Even assuming Jenny would ever want to go to a place like that . . . And she wouldn't! Just because she's at Cambridge, don't imagine she's some bone-headed upper-class snob. Jenny's got her head firmly screwed on – she's not a class traitor like some of those social-climbing girls you meet at . . .' He realized he was getting off the subject. 'What I'm saying is there's no way she could have afforded to go to somewhere like Brotherton Hall. That was Jenny's problem, for God's sake – she didn't have any money.'
'But, just imagining for a moment that she somehow found the money . . .'
'If she'd found any money, there's a million other things she would have spent it on.'
'Or if someone had given her the stay at a health spa as a present . . .'
The thought he might have a rival brought a haunted look into Tom's eyes. 'Who?' he demanded. 'Do you know there was someone?'
'No, no, I'm just imagining. But what I really want to know is – would Jenny have had any reason to go to a health spa?'
The boy looked confused by the question.
'What Mrs Pargeter means,' Truffler elucidated, 'is – was Jenny fat?'
'Oh. No. Well, not particularly.' A distant hunger of recollection, softened his words. 'She was . . . well-rounded and . . .' He cleared his throat. 'Certainly not thin, anyway.'
Mrs Pargeter tried to force from her mind the skeletal body she had seen on the trolley at Brotherton Hall. 'And she never expressed a desire to go to a health spa?'
'No, no, of course she didn't. She wouldn't have dared.'
'Why do you say that?'
'Because she knew I'd disapprove of poncy places like that.'
'And she wouldn't have done anything you disapproved of?'
The question was casual, but Tom O'Brien was instantly aware of its subtext. 'And I don't mean because I was a chauvinist, Mrs Pargeter. Jenny and I talked a lot, about everything. We thought alike about the really important things.'
'And what would you say are the really important things?'
There was no hesitation about his reply. The issues were ones he had thought through in great detail and about which he was passionate. 'The environment, obviously. That's the most important item on the world's agenda. If we don't get that sorted out, then it's all over for humankind. We've got to make people think differently. So long as their dominant motive remains profit and money-making, nothing's going to get any better. There'll be more poison pumped into the atmosphere, more forests cut down, more animal species sacrificed in the cause of consumerist experimentation. We've got to change the world whilst we still have a world left to change!'
Mrs Pargeter, though never an activist herself for any cause, could respect such fervour in others. And there was no doubting the boy's sincerity.
'So in order to change the world, do you reckon you can use any methods?'
'Of course you can.'
' Any methods? I mean, even violence and terrorism?'
Tom O'Brien's lips set in a hard line. ' Particularly violence and terrorism.'
'You think the end justifies the means?'
'It must do! If you stop and think of the violence that man's committed against the natural world, then a bit of necessary violence against man to restore the balance . . . well, it's a small price to pay.'
'And what kind of violence are you talking about? Sabotage? Bombings?'
'Yes.'
'Killing people?'
'Oh yes. When it's necessary,' Tom O'Brien replied with the quiet righteousness of the fanatic.
CHAPTER 14
The boy's pale blue eyes
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