‘It was a shock to us all. When Bradley arrived home, he hadn’t heard because he was travelling, he couldn’t believe it. Bradley was a favourite of Captain Edmund’s.’

‘Travelling?’

‘Home from his base in Sydney. He’ll fly back there when we get a date,’ she sighed deeply, ‘We’re proud of Bradley, but people are starting to say hurtful things about Vietnam. It’s not the boys’ fault. Do people expect them to go to prison for not going? I’d like to ask those protesters if they would do Bradley’s prison term.’

‘Was Bradley a conscientious objector?’

‘No. What do you think, should our boys be going over there?’

Cardilini remembered the nervousness he had about the possibility of Paul being conscripted. He hadn’t thought about the right or wrong of it. He just knew he didn’t want Paul to go to Vietnam.

‘How does Bradley feel about going?’

‘He just said his mates were going and he had to be with them.’

‘Did he enjoy his time at St Nicholas College?’

‘Yes. Very much. He was a prefect. He was captain of the first eleven. He won two state schoolboys marksman trophies.’

‘What did he want to do before being conscripted?’ Cardilini asked, as he formed a picture of the boy arriving home in his school uniform, telling his parents he had been elected prefect, bright shiny faces greeting him, loving him. Could he pull a trigger and kill a man?

‘He wanted to do law but didn’t get the grades. He might have been a policeman. Standing up for his mates was very important to him,’ Mrs Williamson said with a tinge of regret in her voice.

‘It seems a St Nicholas trait.’

‘The last principal was a wonderful man, the boys adored him.’

‘When did Braun arrive?’

‘Bradley was in the fourth form, so four years ago. Sure you don’t want that cup of tea?’

‘And Captain Edmund?’

‘Same time. Both Victorians. A lot of us couldn’t understand why we were getting a Victorian principal. It didn’t seem right.’ She looked up to Cardilini with a quizzical expression, ‘He wasn’t a St Nicholas old boy.’

Cardilini looked into her eyes and saw Betty’s. He often tried to fight the compulsion, mainly with alcohol, but sober, something in his chest wanted to reach out to total strangers. Mrs Williamson waited on his reply while viewing him curiously.

‘I must go,’ Cardilini said.

‘Please,’ Mrs Williamson grabbed his arm, ‘You’re not telling me something. Can you keep him from going back to Vietnam?’

Cardilini saw the desperation in her eyes and felt the firm grip on his forearm.

‘How does your husband feel about Bradley going to Vietnam?’

‘He’s a man. What can he say? He supports Bradley. I used to, but I can’t anymore. He’s our only child. My only child. My son. Can you understand?’