Paths of Glory Read online

  “Thank you,” George repeated, and marched into Mr. Fletcher’s study. Miss Sharpe closed the door behind him.

  “Good morning, Mallory,” said the headmaster as he rose from behind his desk. “Good of you to be so punctual.”

  “Not at all, headmaster,” said George. “Can I say how nice it is to be back,” he added as he sat down.

  “Allow me to begin,” said the headmaster, “by congratulating you on your achievements during the past six months. Even allowing for the press’s tendency to exaggerate, we all feel that given a little more luck, you would undoubtedly have made it to the top.”

  “Thank you, headmaster.”

  “And I’m sure I speak for everyone at the school when I say that I’m in no doubt that you’ll fulfill your ambition next time.”

  “There won’t be a next time,” George replied. “I can assure you that my climbing days are over.”

  “However, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate, Mallory,” continued the headmaster as if he hadn’t heard him, “running a school like Charterhouse necessitates being able to rely on all members of staff at all times.”

  “Yes, of course, headmaster, but—”

  “Your decision to join the armed forces despite the fact that you were exempt, although commendable in itself, severely disrupted the school timetable, as I made clear at the time.”

  “You did indeed, headmaster, but—”

  “And then your decision, rightly taken in my view, to accept the invitation from the Everest Committee caused even more disruption to the running of the school, especially as you had recently been appointed senior history master.”

  “I do apologize, headmaster, but—”

  “As you know, I had to appoint Mr. Atkins to take over from you in your absence, and I’m bound to say that he has carried out his duties with commendable diligence and authority, and has shown unswerving commitment to the school.”

  “I’m glad to hear that, headmaster. However—”

  “I’m also bound to say, Mallory, that when you failed to report for the first day of term, no doubt through no fault of your own, I was left with little choice but to offer Atkins a permanent appointment as a full member of staff, which ipso facto means, regrettably, that there is no position for you at Charterhouse at the present time.”

  “But—” spluttered George, trying not to sound desperate.

  “I have no doubt that many of our leading schools will jump at the opportunity of adding Mallory of Everest to their numbers. Indeed, were I to lose a member of the history staff, you would be among the first candidates I would consider interviewing.”

  George no longer bothered to interrupt. He felt as if Everest’s relentless east wind was hitting him in the face again.

  “Do let me assure you, Mallory, that you leave Charterhouse with the respect and affection of both the staff and the pupils. It goes without saying that I will be delighted to supply you with a reference confirming that you were a valued member of staff.”

  George remained silent.

  “I’m sorry it had to end this way, Mallory, but allow me to add on behalf of myself, the governing body, and all of us at Charterhouse, that we wish you good fortune in whatever it is you decide to do in the future. Should that turn out to be one more stab at Everest, our thoughts and prayers will be with you.”

  Mr. Fletcher rose from behind his desk. George stood up, dutifully shook hands, doffed his mortar board, and left the study without another word.

  Ruth was reading about her husband in The Times when the phone rang. Only her father ever called at that time of the day.

  “Hello,” she said cheerfully as she picked up the phone. “Is that you, Daddy?”

  “No, it isn’t, Mrs. Mallory. It’s Hinks of the RGS.”

  “Good morning, Mr. Hinks,” she said, her tone of voice immediately changing. “I’m afraid my husband isn’t here at the moment, and I’m not expecting him back until this evening.”

  “I’m pleased to hear that, Mrs. Mallory, because I was hoping to have a private word with you.”

  Ruth listened carefully to what Mr. Hinks had to say, and assured him that she would think it over and let him know her decision. She had just returned to reading the paper when she heard the front door open. She feigned surprise when George marched into the drawing room and slumped down on the sofa opposite her.

  “That bad?” she ventured.

  “It couldn’t have been much worse,” he said. “The damned man sacked me. It seems I’m so unreliable that he’s offered my job to Atkins, who he assured me is diligent, conscientious, and, more important, reliable. Can you believe it?”

  “Yes, I can,” said Ruth. “In fact, I can’t pretend that it comes as a great surprise,” she added, folding the paper and placing it on a side table.

  “What makes you say that, my darling?” asked George, looking at her more closely.

  “It worried me that the headmaster asked to see you at ten o’clock.”

  “Why was that important?”

  “Because that man’s whole life is dominated by a timetable. If all had been well, my darling, he would have invited both of us for a drink at six in the evening. Or he would have arranged your morning meeting for eight o’clock, so that you could accompany him in triumph when he presided over assembly.”

  “So why did he ask to see me at ten?”

  “Because at that time all the boys and staff would be safely in their classrooms, and he’d be able to get you on and off the premises without anyone having the chance to speak to you. He must have planned the whole exercise down to the minute.”

  “Brilliant,” said George. “You’d have made a first-class detective. Do you have any clues about what’s going to happen to me next?”

  “No,” admitted Ruth. “But while you were out, I had a call from Mr. Hinks.”

  “I hope you made it clear to him that I’m not available to play any part in next year’s expedition.”

  “That wasn’t why he called,” said Ruth. “It seems that the American Geographical Society wants you to do a lecture tour of the East Coast—Washington, New York, Boston…”

  “Not a hope,” said George. “I’ve only just got home. Why would I want to troop off again?”

  “Possibly because they’re willing to pay you a thousand pounds for half a dozen lectures on your experiences of climbing Everest.”

  “A thousand pounds?” said George. “But that’s more than I’d earn at Charterhouse in three years.”

  “Well, to be accurate,” said Ruth, “the AGS think the lectures could bring in as much as two thousand pounds, and the RGS is willing to split the profits with you fifty-fifty.”

  “That’s unusually generous of Hinks,” said George.

  “I think I can also explain that,” said Ruth. “It seems that if you turn down the offer, there’s only one other person the Americans would consider inviting in your place.”

  “And Hinks would never agree to that,” said George. “So what did you tell him?”

  “I said I’d discuss the idea with you, and then let him know your decision.”

  “But why did he call you in the first place? Why didn’t he want to speak to me?”

  “He wondered if I might like to join you on the trip.”

  “The cunning old devil,” said George. “He knows that’s the one thing that might clinch the deal for me.”

  “But not for me,” said Ruth.

  “But why not, my darling? You’ve always wanted to visit the States, and we could turn this into a second honeymoon.”

  “I knew you’d come up with some reason why I should agree to the idea, and so, obviously, did Mr. Hinks. But you seem to forget that we have three children.”

  “Can’t nanny take care of them while we’re away?”

  “George, the girls haven’t seen you for six months, and John didn’t even know who you were. Now, no sooner has his father returned than he disappears off to America with their mother for another s