though brushing away cobwebs and John felt he was being brushed away, too. Jack’s once pretty and promising young wife was dead and with her his hopes of a happy life. In his view children should be seen occasionally but never heard. He wanted control, total control, over the situation.
‘Mrs Osman,’ or the name of the latest nanny, John’s father would shout out in the days before John was banished to boarding school, when he was tired of the boy in the evening, which was more often than not. ‘Time this lad went to bed,’ and John would often find himself sent to the nursery or to his bedroom on the floor below, out of the way, at six o’clock so that his father could work on his business papers in peace. Jack Lacey was relieved to get rid of both the nanny and the child when John went to school. He convinced himself the boy was well cared for physically but apart from that he had no interest in him. What more could the little brat want? He had done his duty.
When Jack died suddenly of heart failure in his fifties John could not grieve. He tried to cry but could not and felt guilty. John had never really known him. He was his father, his features and genes declared that, but his cold and undemonstrative attitude had left John with no deep affection or feelings akin to love for the man; it was as though he was in some ways already dead and never a significant part of his life.
‘What is the matter with me that I cannot grieve for my own father?’ he asked himself many times when a feeling of guilt threatened to overcome him.
He trailed behind his coffin when he was buried but the funeral service was meaningless.
‘My father,’ he had said when urged to do so during the service, ‘Jack Lacey, a good man ... he always took care of me. An astute businessman ...’ What was he saying? He stumbled on in an attempt to deliver the eulogy that was expected of him. Numb and detached, he endured the burial in the local churchyard and the funeral lunch afterwards where he was joined by his father’s business colleagues and associates, large strong tough men with sly fox-like faces who were anxious to keep on the right side of him, just in case he stepped into his father’s shoes and became their boss or business associate. They need not have worried. John had no interest in his father’s business ventures and sold them as soon as he could. He was an academic, that was his world, he was not a businessman and in no sense considered himself to be a wheeler or a dealer. Lacking confidence, he feared that he would be crushed like an ant underfoot in the business world so it was fortunate that he wanted to teach after completing a university course and obtaining a first class honours degree. He was thrifty which was a trait he had inherited from his father, and invested his father’s fortune with care in what he considered were safe options. Unlike his father and many of his associates he was not a risk taker. He had studied and learned more about investing on the stock market and safe savings accounts than he ever admitted to his father and was more sensible than many when investing in the 1930s. Jack had, however been smart enough to avoid huge losses during the Wall Street crash and, unlike some who were not so astute, survived with most of his fortune intact. Several of his business associates became bankrupt after making a number of bad decisions but the majority had followed Jack’s lead. They did not have the same faith in his son and would have been surprised to discover what a shrewd young man he had developed into.
John did not crave flashy cars or fast women, a small economical Ford car suited him. He was content. He had a theory that if one looked affluent, greedy and unscrupulous people would attempt to take advantage and he would have difficulty in coping, being soft and gentle at heart. Whether they would succeed was a different matter. With greater confidence in his own abilities he would have dealt
‘Mrs Osman,’ or the name of the latest nanny, John’s father would shout out in the days before John was banished to boarding school, when he was tired of the boy in the evening, which was more often than not. ‘Time this lad went to bed,’ and John would often find himself sent to the nursery or to his bedroom on the floor below, out of the way, at six o’clock so that his father could work on his business papers in peace. Jack Lacey was relieved to get rid of both the nanny and the child when John went to school. He convinced himself the boy was well cared for physically but apart from that he had no interest in him. What more could the little brat want? He had done his duty.
When Jack died suddenly of heart failure in his fifties John could not grieve. He tried to cry but could not and felt guilty. John had never really known him. He was his father, his features and genes declared that, but his cold and undemonstrative attitude had left John with no deep affection or feelings akin to love for the man; it was as though he was in some ways already dead and never a significant part of his life.
‘What is the matter with me that I cannot grieve for my own father?’ he asked himself many times when a feeling of guilt threatened to overcome him.
He trailed behind his coffin when he was buried but the funeral service was meaningless.
‘My father,’ he had said when urged to do so during the service, ‘Jack Lacey, a good man ... he always took care of me. An astute businessman ...’ What was he saying? He stumbled on in an attempt to deliver the eulogy that was expected of him. Numb and detached, he endured the burial in the local churchyard and the funeral lunch afterwards where he was joined by his father’s business colleagues and associates, large strong tough men with sly fox-like faces who were anxious to keep on the right side of him, just in case he stepped into his father’s shoes and became their boss or business associate. They need not have worried. John had no interest in his father’s business ventures and sold them as soon as he could. He was an academic, that was his world, he was not a businessman and in no sense considered himself to be a wheeler or a dealer. Lacking confidence, he feared that he would be crushed like an ant underfoot in the business world so it was fortunate that he wanted to teach after completing a university course and obtaining a first class honours degree. He was thrifty which was a trait he had inherited from his father, and invested his father’s fortune with care in what he considered were safe options. Unlike his father and many of his associates he was not a risk taker. He had studied and learned more about investing on the stock market and safe savings accounts than he ever admitted to his father and was more sensible than many when investing in the 1930s. Jack had, however been smart enough to avoid huge losses during the Wall Street crash and, unlike some who were not so astute, survived with most of his fortune intact. Several of his business associates became bankrupt after making a number of bad decisions but the majority had followed Jack’s lead. They did not have the same faith in his son and would have been surprised to discover what a shrewd young man he had developed into.
John did not crave flashy cars or fast women, a small economical Ford car suited him. He was content. He had a theory that if one looked affluent, greedy and unscrupulous people would attempt to take advantage and he would have difficulty in coping, being soft and gentle at heart. Whether they would succeed was a different matter. With greater confidence in his own abilities he would have dealt
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