Box 88 : A Novel (2020), стр. 40

boy, Christian Bathurst, claimed to have witnessed Billy Peele drinking ‘several pints of Guinness’ in the Fulham Road in the company of screen legend Richard Harris. Nobody – not even Lachlan Kite – knew what school Peele had been to nor why he had turned his back on a career in the military. It was believed that he had travelled widely in his youth, teaching English as a foreign language in Africa and the Middle East. Some said that he had a tattoo on his back, others that there was a lovechild in Paris. Depending who you spoke to, Peele’s parents were either alive and living in Devon or dead and buried in South Africa, heroes of the anti-apartheid struggle murdered by agents of P.W. Botha. Peele was said to have a sister who lived in Australia and a brother who lived in Hong Kong. Sometimes he was an only child, sometimes he was adopted. In short, he was an enigma.

Billy Peele was arguably closer to Lachlan Kite than any other boy in the school. As much as it is possible for a student and his teacher to have such a relationship, Kite and Peele were friends. At least once a week, throughout the last two years of his time at Alford, Kite would visit Peele’s flat on Alford High Street, either in the company of a handful of other boys attending a sixth-form tutorial, or in a private capacity. Peele became a confessor of sorts. Though Kite rarely discussed his father’s death or spoke in any detail about his relationship with his mother, he nevertheless spent many hours in Peele’s company, away from the lockdown rules and creepy inertia of Jones-Lewis’s house. Recognising the vast gaps in his pupil’s knowledge, Peele took it upon himself to educate Kite in the arts, urging him to read widely – beyond the narrow syllabus of English A level – and to visit galleries in London, Glasgow and Edinburgh whenever he had the chance. Peele took boys to the cinema in Slough, arranged outings to the theatre in London’s West End and accompanied them to football matches at his beloved Upton Park. In the summer of 1988, Peele took Kite and another boy to Lord’s to watch the third day of the Test match between England and West Indies. Were it not for Billy Peele, Kite would not have read Anna Karenina and The Naked Ape, made a pilgrimage to see Rothko’s Seagram Murals at the Tate Gallery nor watched Paris, Texas, Some Like It Hot and Dr Strangelove. Nor would he have witnessed Malcolm Marshall steaming in from the Nursery End and bowling Graham Gooch six runs short of his fifty. He was already the transformational figure in Kite’s adolescence, even before he played the central role in orchestrating his recruitment to BOX 88.

Two days after the conversation about the fatwa against Salman Rushdie, Kite walked down Alford High Street to Peele’s flat for his regular weekly tutorial. Four other boys were due to attend, but Kite was the first to arrive. He rang the doorbell and was invited inside. Peele, who was wearing jeans and what looked like a bottle green Royal Marines sweater, immediately offered him a beer.

‘That was fun the other day,’ he called out from the kitchen as he pulled a can of Budweiser from the fridge.

‘What was?’

‘The Satanic Verses debate,’ Peele replied. ‘I liked your take on it. Not a point of view I’d heard before.’

Kite wondered if he was being sarcastic but accepted the Budweiser with a nod of thanks.

‘Gnat’s piss, that stuff,’ said Peele, indicating the can. ‘You boys love it because you’re all in thrall to American culture. One day you’ll know the difference between beer and mineral water.’

‘Mum refuses to stock it at the hotel.’

‘Then your mother is a wise woman with impeccable taste.’

Kite took a first sip of the Budweiser and looked at all the books on Peele’s shelves. He loved being in this room, with its Don McCullin photographs and military memorabilia, a tower of blank videotapes toppling over beside Peele’s TV, the trace smell of Gauloises and aftershave. Women had been in this flat. One time Kite had found a scarf under the sofa left by one of Peele’s girlfriends; it seemed to him impossibly exciting that a man could own a flat and shelves of books and take a girl to bed. He felt that he could be himself in this place, just as he could always be himself in Peele’s company.

‘How are your plans coming along for the summer?’ Peele asked. He knew that Kite was looking for a job that would make him some fast money before he started university, but they hadn’t spoken of it for a while.

‘Think I might be going to the South of France,’ he replied.

‘Oh?’

‘Xavier Bonnard’s father has inherited a place near Cannes. He’s going to be there in August. I might take a train down and hang out.’

Kite was struck by a sudden change in the expression on Peele’s face. The moment passed in an instant, but it was as though the mention of Xavier’s name had left a mark on him. The doorbell rang. More boys had arrived for the start of the tutorial.

‘South of France, eh?’ he said, heading for the door. ‘August with the Bonnards?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well well well, Lockie. Sounds like you’re going to have a lot of fun.’

15

The original hard copy of the letter Billy Peele wrote to Michael Strawson a day later can still be found in Lachlan Kite’s file at The Cathedral. It is dated 27 February 1989. The envelope has no stamp nor postmark; it was delivered to Strawson’s home address in Kensington by hand.

Dear Mike

It was very good to see you last week and to discuss things in more detail. Something has come up in connection with our Iranian project which I wanted to run past you. This is of course entirely separate to my work on CONSTELLATION.

As you know, I’ve been looking