But there was still something which puzzled George Hannant, and for the answer to that he must now go to Jamieson, the headmaster. Leaving the boys to work alone for a few minutes – with the customary warning about their behaviour in his absence – he went to the head’s study.
‘Harry Keogh?’ Howard Jamieson seemed a little taken aback. ‘How did he do in the Technical College examination?’ He took out a slim file from one of his desk drawers, flipped through it, looked up. ‘I’m afraid Keogh didn’t take the examination,’ he said. ‘Apparently he was down with hay fever or some such. Yes, here it is: hay fever, three weeks ago; he had two days off school. Unfortunately the exams took place in Hartlepool on the second day of Keogh’s absence. But why do you ask, George? Do you think he’d have stood a chance?’
‘I think he’d have sailed it,’ Hannant answered, frank to the point of being blunt.
Jamieson seemed surprised. ‘Bit late in the day, isn’t it’
‘To worry about it? I suppose it is.’
‘No, I meant this interest in Harry Keogh. I didn’t know you much approved of him. Wait – ‘ He took out another file, a thicker one, this time from a cabinet. ‘Last year’s reports,’ he said, checking through the file. And this time he wasn’t at all surprised. ‘Thought so. According to this none of your colleagues here give Keogh a cat in hell’s chance at anything – and that includes you, George!’
‘Yes,’ Hannant’s neck reddened a little, ‘but that was last year. Also, the Technical College exams are aimed more at basic intelligence than academic knowledge. If you were to give our Harry Keogh an IQ test I think you’d be in for a surprise. Where maths is concerned, anyway. It’s all instinct, all intuition – but it’s there, sure enough.’
Jamieson nodded. ‘Well, it’s something when a master takes more than a grudging interest in a Harden boy,’ he said. ‘And that’s not to put anyone down, not even the kids themselves – but they do have a hell of a handicap here, in background and environment, I mean. Do you know how many of our boys got through that exam, by the way? Three! Three out of that age group – which is to say one in sixty-five!’
‘Four, if Harry Keogh had taken it.’
‘Oh?’ Jamieson wasn’t convinced. But he was impressed, at least. ‘All right,’ he said, ‘let’s assume you’re right about the maths side of it. And in fact you are right that the test is a measure of basic intelligence rather than knowledge assimilated parrot-fashion. So what about the other subjects? According to these reports Keogh is a habitual failure in just about any subject you care to mention! Bottom of his class in many of them.’
Hannant sighed, nodded, said: ‘Look, I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time on this one. Anyway, the question hardly arises since he didn’t sit the exam in the first place. It’s just that I feel it’s a shame, that’s all. I think the kid has potential.’
‘Tell you what,’ said Jamieson, coming round his desk and moving towards the door with his hand on Hannant’s shoulder. ‘Send him to see me during the afternoon. I’ll have a word with him, see what I think. No, wait – maybe I can be a little more constructive than that. Instinctive or intuitive mathematician, is he? Very well – ‘
He returned to his desk, took a pen and quickly scribbled something on a blank sheet of A4. There you go,’ he said. ‘See what he makes of that. Let him work at it through the lunch break. If he comes up with an answer, then I’ll see him and we’ll see how we go from there.’
Hannant took the sheet of A4 and went out into the corridor, closing the door behind him. He looked at what the head had written, shook his head in disappointment. He folded the sheet and pocketed it, then took it out again, opened it and stared at it. On the other hand . . . maybe it was exactly the sort of thing Keogh could handle. Hannant was sure that he could do it – with a bit of thought and a spot of trial and error – but if Keogh could work it out, then they’d be on to something. His case for the boy would be proven. In the event Keogh failed, then Hannant would simply stop worrying about him. There were other kids who were equally deserving of his attention, he was sure . . .