Chapter Fifty Three the cadre who had passed, eleven in all; leaving unwritten the three of us who had failed. My life slowly reverted to its normal daily routine, trade instruction, PE and football training, education and kit polishing but I found it extremely hard, if not impossible, to bury my dented but firmly harboured ambition of promotion, and to draw a veil over my recent devastating failure. One evening, no more than two weeks distance from the cadre course’s conclusion, on returning from football training in the gym at around seven o’clock I was greeted by a boy from the next barrack room who said to me, “Mr Taylor wants to see you in his office, now.” Odd, I thought, that anyone in authority should demand my presence at this time of the evening. Still in my PE gear and sweating from my exertions in the gym I hurried along to the office understandably a tad disquieted, knocked on the door and waited.
Chapter fifty four
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