Twenty-Three – Home FiresKeep Burning
The boarders’ phone is not far from mydormitory. After tea and before study begins it rings. It’s amatter of chance if someone answers it and it’s usually somebodywalking past.
I’m in the middle of changing out of myschool clothes. The phone rings for a third time. Someone hasanswered it.
‘Phone for Ross Mayne,’someone calls out. The dormitory door opens. It’s Michael. I finishtucking what needs to be tucked and reposition what needs to behorizontally aligned for comfort.
‘You’re wanted on thephone,’ he repeats in a voice from a body that is by necessity verydifferent from a couple of hours ago. ‘I think it’s yourfather.’
I exchange a telling glance with Michael andhurry to the coin operated phone. I am grateful that I am notmaking the call and do
