My Dear I Wanted to Tell You Read Online Free PDF Page A

. .’ said Terence, that afternoon. ‘No, of course not.’
    ‘What?’ said Riley, but Terence wouldn’t say, and suggested they pack up as the light was going, which it wasn’t.

Chapter Three
    There was a recruiting party up by Paddington station. On the Sunday, coming back from his mum and dad’s, Riley had seen them marching around in their red coats, the sergeant pointing at men in the crowd, telling them they had to go to France because gallant little Belgium needed them. He’d seen gallant little Belgium on a poster: she was a beautiful woman in a nightie, apparently, being chased by a red-eyed Hun demon in a helmet with a point on it. She became, slightly, in his mind, Nadine’s mother, Jacqueline.
    You had to be five foot eight, the sign said. Riley saw a fair number of lads turned away for being too little and skinny. The rest were piling in, and everyone around was cheering them along, and they were grinning sheepishly. Happy and excited. Going to France! Shiny buttons and boots and, Jesus Christ, square meals and a different life!
    Once again Riley thanked God, who had so completely blessed him. In his mind he ran through: Sir Alfred, his kindness and generosity; Mum and Dad, their love – except when Dad said art was all very well but a bit nancy, wasn’t it, for a man?; the education he was getting. Though he needed more. Always more. Perhaps in the evenings. There was a Working Men’s Institute . . . history, science, philosophy, maths . . .
    And Nadine, that bloody girl. Whom he had to kiss. I will die if I don’t kiss her. But how on earth can I kiss her?
    I am a lucky, lucky boy , he thought, and I will do better, I will do whatever it takes , and he swore to himself once again that he would not squander what he had been given.
    *
    One Saturday Nadine did not turn up.
    ‘Miss Waveney ill, sir?’ Riley enquired of Sir Alfred, at the ewer in the studio.
    Sir Alfred, without looking up, said: ‘Miss Waveney’s well-being is not your concern, Riley.’
    Oh!
    ‘Is it not, sir?’ Riley said carefully, after a moment.
    ‘No,’ said Sir Alfred.
    Riley let that settle a moment. He tried to. It wouldn’t. It grew tumultuous in his belly.
    Riley’s fingers moved over the silken tip of the brush he was cleaning, a hollow feeling threading through him.
    ‘Is she not coming again, sir?’ he said, giving a last opportunity for what was happening not to be true.
    ‘That’s not your business either, Riley,’ said Sir Alfred.
    Oh.
    Brush. Fingers. Turpentine.
    Damn it, ask outright. He’s implying it.
    ‘Would she continue to come, sir, if I wasn’t here?’
    Sir Alfred almost snapped: ‘Don’t flatter yourself.’ Then he thought for a moment and said precisely: ‘Changes are not made to my household to accommodate the parents of my pupils.’ He looked a warning at Riley: Don’t pursue this. I am not going to discuss it.
    Riley had to think about that.
    What does he mean? What – what has happened?
    Have Mr and Mrs Waveney asked him to get rid of me? Because of Nadine? . . . And has he refused?
    He couldn’t read it any other way.
    But it’s not fair . . .
    ‘Miss Waveney is talented, sir,’ he said. ‘More than . . . most.’ He didn’t want to say, ‘more than me’. He knew he couldn’t set himself up against her. Why not? Because she is posh and you are not?
    Sir Alfred took his time answering. Eventually he said, ‘Miss Waveney is a girl. She will be happiest and most fulfilled in the bosom of her family, making a good marriage.’
    Inside, Riley reeled.
    But you knew that all along! a voice inside told him. You’ve always known! You didn’t really hope!
    This is not fair. They’ve taken her away. I won’t see her. She won’t learn any more. I won’t see her.
    Actually, he had really hoped. And it’s not fair on her! She wants to be an artist, and she could be!
    ‘I’m going to Terence’s studio this afternoon, sir,’ he said. His voice was small and tight. ‘I