The others just looked baffled, lost to understand his joke. He’d waited, relishing the moment. He was adding to the common store of significant information.
‘Getting off at Fratton, it’s what those matelots say for pulling out in time.’
By afternoon every boy in the school was sniggering at the name of Fratton.
Trix, soon. That’d better make it all worthwhile. At times he’d found something flat in the tone of her letters from Southsea. But this last one struck a note of excitement.
‘You can’t imagine, Ruddy, I’ve got a new friend here, her name’s Flo, and she’s an art student. A painter, awfully clever. It’s made such a difference. She’s older than us, sixteen. Auntie’s so impressed, quite cowed, poor thing, but that’s something you’ll be pleased to hear, I know.’
In spite of all his
