Read this passage, and then answer the question that follows it:
Mr Hooper said, ‘This is the Strand, this is Trafalgar Square, this is the Mall, there is Buckingham Palace …’ ‘I know.’ But the taxi skidded in and out of the traffic, and Mr Hooper did not listen, he recited the names of streets and buildings because of his belief in the usefulness and fascination of such facts. Kingshaw said, ‘We lived in London.’ ‘Ah, yes! Now that is St George’s Hospital …’ He did not like being here with Mr Hooper. It was like being with a stranger, one of the masters from school, perhaps, it felt odd. He could think of nothing at all to say, except in answer to questions. They walked very quietly across the grey carpets of the department store, towards School Outfitting, and the rooms smelled of perfume and new cloth. He thought, I could run away. I could get into the lift and go down the other staircase, and out into the street, I would be lost. But he would not do it. It would be worse, alone in the city streets, full of strange people, than it had been alone in Hang Wood. The noise confused him, the way everybody pushed about. He had forgotten London. Mr Hooper said, ‘Well, now …’ There was a man with striped trousers and a tape-measure. Kingshaw had never been shopping with anyone except his mother. He was measured and pushed in and out of the sleeves of blazers and the legs of shorts, and Mr Hooper and the man talked about him over the top of his head, he felt as though he was not really here, not really himself. He said nothing. But when he looked in the tall glass, and saw himself like Hooper, in the black and gold uniform, looked into his own eyes, he knew that there was no more hope for him, that it had all begun. Hooper was playing with the silver cardboard model of the fort, rolling the marble down and letting it drop through the chute, over and over again. Kingshaw watched him for a moment, his fury rising, and then began to run, down the corridor and the staircase, across the hall and into the sitting room, clenching and unclenching his hands. Mr Hooper was pouring out two glasses of sherry from a bottle. The windows of the sitting room were open onto the silent lawn. Kingshaw shouted, ‘It’s my model, you gave him my model, the one I made, and you didn’t even ask. I didn’t want him to have that, you shouldn’t give him any of my things.’ He saw the look that passed between his mother and Mr Hooper, knew what they were thinking of him, and it made him want to strike out at them, in rage, he felt misjudged by them. He thought, they don’t want me, they don’t want anything to do with me here, they want themselves and Hooper, there is no place for me. ‘You’ve got to make him give it back. He’s got plenty of things, he’s got everything. He’s got to give me back my model.’ ‘Charles …’ ‘It’s mine, mine, mine, he isn’t to have anything of mine.’ When Mr Hooper stepped forward quickly, and struck him across the cheek, he heard the sound of it sharply, through his own head, and out in the room, too, saw his mother’s face, full of relief and shock, and Mr Hooper’s, as he stood over him. And then the silence. None of them moved. Silence and silence. The telephone rang. Mr Hooper went out of the door and into the hall. ‘I think you had better go quietly upstairs, Charles. I’m sure you can understand why. And perhaps you will also try and understand how very much you have upset me.’ He did not look at her (from Chapter 15) |
How does Hill vividly convey the unfairness which Charles Kingshaw experiences at this point in the novel?
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