too.
"You've got a telly," said
Daniel when the two met up.
"How'd you know?" asked Simon,
annoyed that his surprise had been spoiled.
"There's a damn great aerial on
your roof, idiot!" said Daniel, laughing.
"Oh," said Simon, deflated. He
had forgotten that. Daniel could see his house from his bedroom
window. They had tried to set up a signalling system from their
bedroom windows, but it had proved too complicated to devise a code
with sufficient variety of meaning. Then it occurred to him that
there was no aerial on Daniel's house.
"When's yours coming?" said
Simon.
"Dunno," said Daniel, glumly.
"Might not get it in time."
Simon remembered what the man
had said about waiting lists.
"Well, there's a long waiting
list for them, you know," said Simon knowledgeably.
"So how'd you get yours then?"
demanded Daniel crossly. Again Simon remembered the man's
comments.
"My Dad works for the BBC."
"Well, my Dad's important too,
he's a high up policeman."
"I know," said Simon, suddenly
aware of his friend's hurt feelings. It mattered to Daniel to be in
the lead, in their friendship, in everything. He hated being
second.
"You can come and watch it on
ours if you like," offered Simon, generously.
"Can I?" said Daniel, smiling
back now. Simon's soul warmed to that smile, as always. He nodded
happily.
A very similar conversation,
with a similar outcome was taking place not far away at Jennifer's,
with Frances being equally expansive. So it was at tea, the usual
place for family conversations, that the diplomacy began.
Sitting round the dining room
table, the burning question was on Simon's mind. He was committed,
he had asked Daniel, but now he had to make sure it was OK. But of
course, Frances got in first.
"Mummy, is it all right if
Jennifer comes to watch the Coronation? Their television hasn't
come yet, so I said she could."
"I think that'll be all right,"
said Mummy. Daddy just nodded.
"Can Daniel come? His telly
hasn't come yet," said Simon, hoping that the recently established
precedent would work in his favour.
"Television," said Daddy. Daddy
hated 'telly'. He said it was slovenly language.
"We can't have everybody," said
Mummy, a bit worried.
"I've asked Jennifer already,"
said Frances.
"That was naughty of you, dear,"
said Mummy.
"You should ask first, Frances,"
said Daddy.
Frances looked at her parents,
waiting for the decision. Simon waited, wondering what to do for
the best.
"I expect it'll be all right,"
said Mummy. Frances smiled, and turned to Simon with a look of
triumph.
"I've asked Daniel," said
Simon.
"For God's sake! This isn't a
public house!" said Daddy, getting angry.
Simon was taken aback by the
sudden change and Daddy's anger. He got frightened when Daddy was
angry. It showed.
"It's all right, Simon," said
Mummy. "Harry, it is a special occasion. And you have done well to
get a set in time."
Simon looked hopefully at
Daddy.
"Oh very well," said Daddy, "In
for a penny, in for a pound."
Simon and Frances cheered.
By the time Tuesday came, the
small sitting room was full. Some friends of Daddy's and Mummy's
were there, Jennifer and her brother and both parents, Daniel and
his Mummy. His sister Louise was watching it somewhere else, and
his Daddy was at work. They had brought some extra chairs round
from Daniel's, the two boys struggling round the corner with them.
Mummy had made some sandwiches and some jam tarts. Mummy's pastry
was lovely. There were cups of tea and pop for the children out of
their coronation mugs.
They watched, the end of
Westminster Abbey used as a filler shot becoming very familiar, but
there was the Queen, actually getting crowned. And it was happening
at the same time as they were watching it. The children all had
their special souvenir programmes, and it was a great occasion.
Simon and Daniel sat together in
one chair as there were still not enough chairs to go round. But
they enjoyed the close physical contact this afforded and when, to
make more