A Fatal Attachment by Robert Barnard Page A

builds up expectations based on what a boy can be. We all have it in us to be something, just as we all have it in us to fall back and be nothing. Sugar?”
    â€œI’m afraid so.”
    Lydia was by now on a track she was unable to get off.
    â€œIf Gavin had lived he would have spurred you on to being something different.”
    Maurice looked down at his cup and saucer.
    â€œDo you think so?”
    â€œOf course he would. Gavin never gave in to weakness. Do you remember how afraid Gavin was of snakes?”
    â€œI do.”
    â€œAnd yet we worked at it and freed him from fear, didn’t we? Do you remember how we went over to the zoo at Manchester time and time again, getting him closer and closer, until eventually he was able to touch one of the snakes?”
    â€œYes, I do. I’m afraid that now I feel that was almost obscene.”
    Lydia grew pink with outrage.
    â€œWhat nonsense! He conquered his fear!”
    â€œHe wasn’t afraid because they were venomous.”
    â€œNo—he just hated the texture of their skins. Quite irrational.”
    â€œI rather think that to the end of his life Gavin was afraid of snakes.”
    â€œYou just want to think that because of your own failures of nerve.”
    Maurice sighed.
    â€œI didn’t come up here to quarrel, Lydia. I have many happy memories of being up here with Gavin.”
    â€œOf course.” Lydia shook herself. “We’ve got off on the wrong foot somehow, Have another cup of tea. Cake?”
    â€œAh—the old seed cake. I’m impressed that you’re still making it.”
    â€œJust started again. This is the first attempt, so I don’t suppose my hand is in yet. I’ve got—there are some boys—boys I’m helping to look after. Their mother is in hospital—something rather serious with an abbreviation I’ve forgotten.”
    â€œM.E. Its full name is myalgic encephalomyelitis. Midlands did a programme about it.”
    Lydia looked at him sharply.
    â€œYou know the boys?”
    â€œNo, their father came up to us while we were eating at the Maple Tree last night,” said Maurice, feeling obscurely that he bad scored a point. “He seemed rather dim.”
    Lydia nodded, contentedly.
    â€œThat’s the impression I’ve got from the boys. And the mother is a nonentity. Still, that can be . . . made up for. They’re very bright boys.”
    As if on cue the front door was opened and the boys burst in. They pulled themselves up short when they saw that Lydia had a visitor and stood in the doorway shyly.
    â€œSorry,” said Ted. “Didn’t realize—”
    â€œYou must to be the nephew in television,” said Colin. “Married to Sharon the barmaid.”
    â€œThat’s right,” said Lydia, getting up and doing the hostessly thing. “This is my nephew Maurice. Colin, Ted.”
    â€œHow do you get into television?” asked Ted.
    â€œAll sorts of ways,” Maurice said, having been asked the question all too often before. “Local journalism, local radio. There are quite a few courses run by colleges and polytechnics.”
    â€œI expect it would suit Colin better than me,” said Ted regretfully. “You’d have to be really bright, wouldn’t you? Outgoing and super-intelligent?”
    â€œI would have thought super-intelligent people were just the sort television companies would be unable to find a use for,” said Lydia tartly. Maurice shot her a look. She really knew how to twist the knife. But then he sat back in his chair and laughed.
    â€œActually there are all sorts in television, including rather dull ones like me. Sometimes you look at your colleagues and say ‘How on earth did he get a job in the industry?’ But you look at others and say ‘Why on earth is he wasting his time here?’ The truth is, I think, that you’d find the same in any other job. Life