Read The Judas Tree for Free Online Page A

his own shirt, eating chips from a greasy newspaper, sustained only by a heroic determination to raise himself out of the ruck and attain the heights.
    Admittedly there had been diversions, occasional meals at the home of his friend Bryce, or, through the kindness of one of the Infirmary staff, a free theatre or concert ticket would come his way; and once, in the summer vacation, he had spent an exceptional week at the seaside house of his biology professor. Certainly he had made the most of his opportunities, not only by the profusion of his gratitude when anything was done for him but by a particular earnestness of manner, quite touching, that inspired confidence and affection. ‘So good of you to give me a leg-up, sir,’ or, ‘Jolly decent of you, old chap.’ With that modest, self-disparaging expression and those clear, frank eyes, who could help liking him? He was so absolutely sincere. The truth is that, when he was in the mood, he believed everything he said.
    But entertainments are never a conspicuous feature of Scottish universities and in recent months they had been few. For this reason alone his encounter with the Douglas family held the attraction of the unusual. During the week, while he attended the Infirmary by day and studied late at night, it remained agreeably at the back of his mind. He found himself looking forward to his visit on the following Saturday.
    The morning came grey but fine. After attending out-patients in the forenoon, he took the one o’clock ‘workman’s special’ from Winton Central. This was a low-fare train – the price of the ticket, unbelievably, was fourpence – which ran down the Clyde estuary, serving the shipyard workers en route. He had the new belt with him – Bryce, anticipating trouble, had actually bought it as a spare some weeks before, and had willingly turned it over to him in his easy-going style. At Levenford Junction he changed to the single line, and just after half-past two, as the sun was breaking through the clouds, drew into Craigdoran.
    The little white station with its flowering hawthorn and tangle of climbing honeysuckle now wore a familiar aspect. The scent of the honeysuckle filled the air and he heard the hum of an early bee. Two youths, dressed for climbing, with packs on their backs, got out of the train before him. They went into the refreshment room where, peering through the ground-glass window, he saw Mary wrap in waxed paper the sandwiches they bought. Then the youths came out and Mary, following them to the door, looked searchingly along the platform.
    â€˜It’s you.’ She smiled. ‘I was beginning to be afraid you’d not come. Is your knee better?’
    She beckoned him in, made him sit down. The cat approached and rubbed against his leg.
    â€˜I’m sure you’ve not had your lunch. I’ll fetch you some sandwiches and a glass of milk.’
    â€˜Please don’t,’ he said. ‘I’ve had a snack … in the … the buffet at Levenford Junction.’
    â€˜Dear me,’ she said quizzically, rather like her father, raising her brows. ‘That’s extraordinar’ peculiar. There never has been a buffet at the Junction.’ From the glass bell on the counter she took a plate of sandwiches, then poured a frothing glass of milk. ‘There’ll be scarcely another soul in here over the weekend and I can’t see good food go to waste. You’ll just have to oblige me, this once.’
    A moment later she seated herself opposite him, struggling, it seemed, against some inner effervescence which grew suddenly beyond control.
    â€˜I have news for you,’ she exclaimed. ‘You’ve made a most tremendous hit.’
    â€˜What!’ He drew back, misunderstanding her.
    â€˜Walter,’ her lips twitched, ‘has taken the greatest notion of you. Ever since you left he’s done nothing but sing your praises. You’re such a nice