The Floating Body Read Online Free

completely informed as everyone else in the room.
    ‘What Dr Rogers means,’ volunteered Geoffrey Douglas, picking up the slack, ‘is that at the moment we seem to have a Speech Night without a guest speaker.’
    ‘What’s happened?’ I asked, sounding as puzzled as I looked. ‘I thought that chap, the geologist chappie—I’ve forgotten his name—was coming as guest speaker. You organised him, didn’t you, McKell?’
    McKell nodded and took a sip of his tea.
    ‘What’s put a spanner in the works?’ I asked, turning back to Dr Rogers.
    ‘Mumps,’ growled the Head unhappily. ‘The wretched man has come down with mumps. His sense of timing is most unfortunate. We were just discussing,’ he said, waving his hand vaguely in my direction, ‘before your somewhat late arrival, whom we could get as a substitute at this very late notice.’
    He looked around the room as if accusing every staff member of being part of a conspiracy to ruin this year’s School Speech Night.
    ‘So far,’ resumed Dr Rogers, ‘without success.’ Then his eyes lit up as he said, ‘You wouldn’t have an idea, would you, Mr Morris? For a substitute guest speaker, I mean?’
    ‘Well . . .’ I began cautiously as I took a sip of my tea. ‘There is one man.’
    ‘Go on, dear boy, go on,’ urged the Head.
    ‘I’m thinking of my old university tutor, C. S. Lewis. He’s very highly regarded at Oxford. His lectures on Mediaeval and Renaissance Literature are extremely popular and well attended. He’s certainly a good speaker—and he’s thought rather a lot about educational trends. I know that from my correspondence with him. So perhaps he would be suitable—if he is available.’
    ‘An Oxford man,’ said Dr Rogers, more to himself than the rest of room. He closed his eyes and rocked back on his heels deep in thought. ‘Yes, an Oxford man always goes down well with the parents, and with the governors. Yes, an Oxford don would be most acceptable. Which college is the fellow of?’
    ‘Magdalen,’ I replied.
    ‘Magdalen, Magdalen,’ muttered the Head approvingly. ‘Yes, a thoroughly sound college. A Magdalen man would be most acceptable. Might he come, do you think?’
    ‘I’ve always found him most agreeable,’ I said. ‘He’s helped me out of an awkward spot on previous occasions. I’m happy to write to him, if you wish.’
    ‘Oh, I do wish, I do indeed,’ urged Dr Rogers. ‘In fact, you must write to him this very afternoon. Do it quickly. Ensure it gets into the afternoon post. Indeed, when you’ve written your letter you must walk down to the post office in the town to get it into the mail at once.’
    I wasn’t at all sure that Jack, as Lewis was known to all his friends, would be able to come—but I was happy to write the letter, and I was hoping he would accept. It would be a pleasure to see him again—and to engage in another of our ‘great wars’, our on-going debates about deep and serious matters.
    As I was thinking these thoughts, the maid began clearing up the afternoon tea things, always the signal that it was time for us to leave. The masters straggled out of the room like a herd of cows following their well-worn tracks at milking time.
    I was the last the leave because the Head tugged at my coat sleeve as I approached the door and said, ‘Be sure to write immediately, my dear boy. We need an answer as soon as possible.’
    I agreed.
    ‘And in this afternoon’s post please,’ he added as he ushered me out of his drawing room, and out of his house.

SIX
~
    My flat was on the ground floor of the terrace house in the cathedral close shared by the single men on the staff. I sat at a window looking out at the grassy slopes beyond the school grounds—slopes that fell gently down towards the River Ness, which strolled, rather than ran, in its slow, meandering way around the town.
    Then I picked up my pen and began.
    ‘Dear Jack,’ I wrote, ‘thank you for your letter, and I apologise for not