Page 44 of One December Morning
‘I’ve done a lot of things in my life, Adam. But I haven’t done enoughliving. And I don’t mean that in a material way, or in the way that your mother would have had me do – chasing every opportunity, shackled to ambition. I still stand by every word I said to you about my life, and who I am, but I’ve also realised that I haven’t been doing nearly enough of what makes me feel alive. I used to write poetry. I used to listen to music,allthe time. I used to walk outside in whatever conditions the weather could throw at me, because even on the dreariest day, or one full of rain, or wind, there was always something to see which made me feel the truest form of myself.
‘I’m no age at all, not really, and I have no idea how long I’ll live for. But I know now that if it’s a year, it won’t be enough. If it’s ten years, it won’t be enough, and even if it’s twenty years, itstillwon’t be enough. When I came round in the hospital and realised what had happened to me, how close I came to dying, I thought about what I would miss if my world had ended that day. And it wasn’t my job, or my house, but you and Sofia, and everything else in my life I hold dear. And that surprised me. From someone who has made teaching their life’s work, I expected to feel some sadness at that thought, but I didn’t. So, perhaps it’s time for something else, before I get too old to enjoy it.’
Adam nodded, a sudden contrition clear in his expression. ‘I can understand that,’ he said. ‘It must have been terrifying, Dad. I’m sorry…’ He rubbed his hands down his thighs. ‘I guesswe were all so anxious that you wouldn’t die, we were thinking about whatourfuture might look like, without you. I didn’t think about how you must have been feeling about yours.’ He dropped his head. ‘There’s no excuse for that.’
Henry carried on cuffing Rolo’s cheek, the cat’s purrs loud in the quiet kitchen. ‘The thoughts in my head weren’t ones I’d ever seen myself having either, so there’s no blame here, Adam. It’s been a period of time that nothing could have prepared us for. But, seeing as we’re where we are, I thought I should at least give things careful consideration.’
‘And you won’t be bored? Being retired.’
Henry shook his head. ‘No. When I think about it, my brain begins to fill with all the things I could do. And it’s a nice feeling. It’s, if not exactly excitement, then something quite close to it. But I need some time first. To get back to feeling sixty-two, because at the moment it’s more like ninety-two.’ He smiled. ‘I have a feeling I’m not going to be a very patient patient.’
Adam swallowed some tea. ‘Ah…patient as a noun…comes from the Latin,patiensmeaningI am suffering…’ He pulled a face. ‘The adjective referring to someone who is able toenduresuffering, but I agree,impatience as a patient is much more likely. One of life’s little ironies.’
‘Spoken like a true English teacher,’ replied Henry. He lifted his own mug to his lips, using the pause while he drank to consider how to phrase his next question. Clearly discussion around the subject was off limits, but Henry still wanted to know what Adam had decided. ‘And speaking of which…Have you and Sofia had a chance to discuss your promotion yet? I know it’s been an awful few days for you, but I hope you’ve found some time to talk.’
‘Yes…and we’ve agreed that I should take it.’ Adam lifted his chin as if in challenge.
Henry was disappointed, but not at all surprised. ‘I’m not going to try to talk you out of it,’ he said. ‘Because I’m sure you’re taking it for the right reasons.’
‘I am. What other reasons would there be?’
Henry smiled in acknowledgement of the truth as Adam saw it. He’d let it go, for now. He leaned forward. ‘None at all,’ he said. ‘But seeing as I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about the future, perhaps now would be a good time for usallto think about what we want from it. You haven’t mentioned your writing in a while. How’s it going?’
Adam raised his eyebrows. ‘It isn’t. It hasn’t been for some time. There doesn’t seem to be much point to it.’
‘Does there have to be?’ asked Henry. ‘Other than to provide enjoyment.’ He paused, eyes narrowing. ‘Unless you’d like it to have a point, of course. You always did, as I recall.’
‘Yes, but those are the kinds of dreams you have when you’re younger,’ countered Adam. ‘They disappear when real life comes along.’
‘Maybe they do, but not entirely…If there was a spark there to begin with, the chances are it’s still there. And you’ve had yours a very long time. I remember all the notebooks you used to fill as a child. You were always scribbling something. Don’t lose sight of it, Adam.’
Adam’s gaze returned to the window as if the answer could be gleaned from staring outside. After a moment, he sighed and his shoulders moved in what might have been a shrug, or perhaps an admission of defeat.
‘I’m not sure now’s the time,’ he said.
Henry watched him for a moment. ‘Because of your job?’ he asked gently. ‘Or something else?’
This time Adam gave a loud sigh. ‘There is no job, Dad. I lied. No promotion, nothing. I’ve been made redundant.’
20
Henry stared at his son, feeling the ripples of his words flowing outward into ever-increasing circles, as if they were a stone dropped in a pond. The ramifications of what he’d just said were…But Henry couldn’t begin to think about that now.
‘I don’t understand,’ he said, shaking his head.
‘Yeah, you and me both,’ replied Adam, his voice laced with bitterness. ‘I get offered a promotion one minute and then I go into school on the last day of term expecting to meet with the head to discuss it, and then…boom…’ He motioned a bomb exploding with his hands. ‘I get called into a meeting where I’m told my services are no longer required. Can you believe that? Right before Christmas. Bastards…’
Henry licked his lips, trying to work some moisture back into his mouth. ‘I’m struggling to, that’s for sure. But I still don’t see how they can threaten redundancy when they’ve only just offered you a promotion.’
‘They’re not threatening, Dad, it’s happening, there’s no doubt about that.’ He flicked a glance towards the kitchen door as if worried that one of the others might burst through it at any moment. ‘Now I know the truth of what’s been going on,it makes perfect sense. I told you that the promotion was being offered because the school was doing away with some head of department roles in an effort to save money. Well, the reality is that they’re bankrupt, so it was a case of too little, too late. And being an academy, it means that their funding comes directly from the government rather than the local authority. They’ve been bailed out on a couple of occasions already and so now it seems that the funding agency has had enough. They’ve brought in another, much larger academy group to run the school, a group which already has heads of department and pretty much every other managerial role you can think of. And, as we’re the ones in the shit, we lose all our people in place of theirs.’
Henry frowned. ‘But surely you must have known how bad the school’s finances were?’
‘Above my pay grade,’ said Adam harshly. ‘I knew some of it – they’ve been banging on enough about budgets and cuts to this, that and the other, but no one had bothered to tell those lower down the food chain what the reality was, never mind what the consequences might be. The head’s a spineless—’ Adam broke off, his face stony. ‘Insert whatever derogatory term you like.’
‘So when will all this happen?’
‘It’s a done deal. Emergency order, or whatever you call it. The governors had an extraordinary meeting during the last week of term and were all booted off the board. Term starts in January under the new regime. Not that they’ll bother to show their faces for a while yet, I don’t suppose. They’ll let all the dirty work be done first before they swan in and save us.’ He rubbed a hand across his mouth. ‘Not sure I want to be saved.’
