THERE WAS not an inch of room for Lottie and Kezia in the buggy When Pat swung them on top of the luggage they wobbled the Grandmothers lap was full and Linda Burnell could not possibly have held a lump of a child on hers for such a distance Isabel very superior perched beside Pat on the drivers seat Holdalls bags and bandboxes were piled upon the floor
‘These are absolute necessities that I will not let out of my sight for one instant’ said Linda Burnell PAGE 4 her voice trembling with fatigue and overexcitement
Lottie and Kezia stood on the patch of lawn just inside the gate all ready for the fray in their reefer coats with brass anchor buttons and little round caps with battleship ribbons Hand in hand They stared with round inquiring eyes first at the ‘absolute necessities’ and then at their Mother
‘We shall simply have to leave them That is all We shall simply have to cast them off’ said Linda Burnell A strange little laugh flew from her lips she leaned back upon the buttoned leather cushions and shut her eyes … laughing silently
Happily at that moment Mrs Samuel Josephs who lived next door and had been watching the scene from behind her drawingroom blind rustled down the garden path
‘Why nod leave the children with be for the afterdoon Brs Burnell They could go on the dray with the storeban when he comes in the eveding Those thigs on the path have to go Dodnt they
‘Yes everything outside the house has to go’ said Linda Burnell waving a white hand at the tables and chairs that stood impudently on their heads in front of the empty house
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‘Well dodnt you worry Brs Burnell Loddie and Kezia can have tea with by children and Ill see them safely on the dray afterwards
She leaned her fat creaking body across the gate and smiled reassuringly Linda Burnell pretended to consider
‘Yes it really is quite the best plan I am extremely obliged to you Mrs Samuel Josephs Im sure Children say “Thank you” to Mrs Samuel Josephs…
Two subdued chirrups ‘Thank you Mrs Samuel Josephs
‘And be good obedient little girls and—come closer—they advanced—‘do not forget to tell Mrs Samuel Josephs when you want to …
‘Yes Mother
‘Dodnt worry Brs Burnell
At the last moment Kezia let go Lotties hand and darted towards the buggy
‘I want to kiss Grandma “goodbye” again’ Her heart was bursting
‘Oh dear me’ wailed Linda Burnell
But the grandmother leant her charming head in the lilac flowery bonnet towards Kezia and when Kezia searched her face she said—‘Its all right my darling Be good
PAGE 6
The buggy rolled off up the road Isabel proudly sitting by Pat her nose turned up at all the world Linda Burnell prostrate and crying behind her veil and the grandmother rummaging among the curious oddments she had put in her black silk reticule at the last moment for lavender smelling salts to give her daughter
The buggy twinkled away in the sunlight and fine golden dust—up the hill and over Kezia bit her lip hard but Lottie carefully finding her handkerchief first set up a howl
‘Mother Granma
Mrs Samuel Josephs like an animated black silk teacosy waddled to Lotties rescue
‘Its all right by dear Therethere ducky Be a brave child You come and blay in the nursery
She put her arm round weeping Lottie and led her away Kezia followed making a face at Mrs Samuel Josephs’ placket which was undone as usual with two long pink corset laces hanging out of it
The Samuel Josephs were not a family They were a swarm The moment you entered the house they cropped up and jumped out at you from under PAGE 7 the tables through the stair rails behind the doors behind the coats in the passage Impossible to count them impossible to distinguish between them Even in the family groups that Mrs Samuel Josephs caused to be taken twice yearly—herself and Samuel in the middle—Samuel with parchment roll clenched on knee and she with the youngest girl on hers—you never could be sure how many children really were there You counted them and then you saw another head or another small boy in a white sailor suit perched on the arm of a basket chair All the girls were fat with black hair tied up in red ribbons and eyes like buttons The little ones had scarlet faces but the big ones were white with blackheads and dawning moustaches The boys had the same jetty hair the same button eyes but they were further adorned with ink black finger nails The girls bit theirs so the black didnt show And every single one of them started a pitched battle as soon as possible after birth with every single other
When Mrs Samuel Josephs was not turning up their clothes or down their clothes as the sex might be and beating them with a hair brush she called this pitched battle ‘airing their lungs’ She seemed to take a pride in it and to bask in it from far away PAGE 8 like a fat general watching through field glasses his troops in violent action …
Lotties weeping died down as she ascended the Samuel Josephs’ stairs but the sight of her at the nursery door with swollen eyes and a blob of a nose gave great satisfaction to the little S Js who sat on two benches before a long table covered with American cloth and set out with immense platters of bread and dripping and two brown jugs that fairly steamed
‘Hullo Youve been crying
‘Ooh Your eyes have gone right in
‘Doesnt her nose look funny
‘Youre all redanpatchy
Lottie was quite a success She felt it and swelled smiling timidly
‘Go and sit by Zaidee ducky’ said Mrs Samuel Josephs ‘And Kezia—you sit at the end by Boses
Moses grinned and pinched her behind as she sat down but she pretended to take no notice She did hate boys
‘Which will you have’ asked Stanley a big one leaning across the table very politely and smiling at Kezia ‘Which will you have to begin with—strawberries and cream or bread and dripping
‘Strawberries and cream please’ said she
PAGE 9
‘Ahhh’ How they all laughed and beat the table with their teaspoons ‘Wasnt that a take in Wasnt it Wasnt it now Didnt he fox her Good old Stan
‘Ma She thought it was real
Even Mrs Samuel Josephs pouring out the milk and water smiled indulgently It was a merry tea
After tea the young Samuel Josephs were turned out to grass until summoned to bed by their servant girl standing in the yard and banging on a tin tray with a potato masher
‘Know what well do’ said Miriam ‘Lets go an’ play hideanseek all over Burnells Their back door is still open because they havent got the sideboard out yet I heard Ma tell Glad Eyes she wouldnt take such ole rubbish to a new house Come on Come on
‘No I dont want to’ said Kezia shaking her head
‘Ooh Dont be soft Come on—do
Miriam caught hold of one of her hands Zaidee snatched at the other
‘I dont not want to either if Kezia doesnt’ said Lottie standing firm But she too was whirled PAGE 10 away Now the whole fun of the game for the S Js was that the Burnell kids didnt want to play In the yard they paused Burnells yard was small and square with flower beds on either side All down one side big clumps of arum lilies aired their rich beauty on the other side there was nothing but a straggle of what the children called ‘Grandmothers pincushions’ a dull pinkish flower but so strong it would push its way and grow through a crack of concrete
‘Youve only got one w at your place’ said Miriam scornfully ‘Weve got two at ours One for men and one for ladies The one for men hasnt got a seat
‘Hasnt got a seat’ cried Kezia ‘I dont believe you
‘Itstrueitstrueitstrue Isnt it Zaidee’ And Miriam began to dance and hop showing her flannelette drawers
‘Course it is’ said Zaidee ‘Well you are a baby Kezia
‘I dont not believe it either if Kezia doesnt’ said Lottie after a pause
But they never paid any attention to what Lottie said
PAGE 11
Alice Samuel Josephs tugged at a lily leaf twisted it off turned it over It was covered on the under side with tiny blue and grey snails
‘How much does your Pa give you for collecting snails’ she demanded
‘Nothing’ said Kezia
‘Reely Doesnt he give you anything Our Pa gives us hapenny a hundred We put them in a bucket with salt and they all go bubbly like spittle Dont you get any pocket money
‘Yes I get a penny for having my hair washed’ said Kezia
‘An a penny a tooth’ said Lottie softly
‘My Is that all One day Stanley took the money out of all our money boxes and Pa was so mad he rang up the police station
‘No he didnt Not reely’ said Zaidee ‘He only took the telephone down an’ spoke in it to frighten Stan
‘Ooh youfibber Ooh you are a fibber’ screamed Alice feeling her story totter ‘But Stan was so frightened he caught hold of Pa and screamed and bit him and then he lay on the floor and banged with his head as hard as ever
‘Yes’ said Zaidee warming ‘And at dinner when PAGE 12 the door bell rang an’ Pa said to Stan “There they are—theyve come for you” do you know what Stan did’ Her button eyes snapped with joy ‘He was sick—all over the table
‘How perfeckly horrid’ said Kezia but even as she spoke she had one of her ‘ideas’ It frightened her so that her knees trembled but it made her so happy she nearly screamed aloud with joy
‘Know a new game’ said she ‘All of you stand in a row and each person holds a narum lily head I count one—two—three and when “three” comes all of you have to bite out the yellow bit and scrunch it up—and who swallows first—wins
The Samuel Josephs suspected nothing They liked the game A game where something had to be destroyed always fetched them Savagely they broke off the big white blooms and stood in a row before Kezia
‘Lottie cant play’ said Kezia
But any way it didnt matter Lottie was still patiently bending a lily head this way and that—it would not come off the stem for her
‘One—two—three’ said Kezia
She flung up her hands with joy as the Samuel Josephs bit chewed made dreadful faces spat PAGE 13 screamed and rushed to Burnells garden tap But that was no good—only a trickle came out Away they sped yelling
‘Ma Ma Kezias poisoned us
‘Ma Ma Me tongues burning off
‘Ma Ooh Ma
‘Whatever is the matter’ asked Lottie mildly still twisting the frayed oozing stem ‘Kin I bite my lily off like this Kezia
‘No silly’ Kezia caught her hand ‘It burns your tongue like anything
‘Is that why they all ran away’ said Lottie She did not wait for an answer She drifted to the front of the house and began to dust the chairlegs on the lawn with a corner of her pinafore
Kezia felt very pleased Slowly she walked up the back steps and through the scullery into the kitchen Nothing was left in it except a lump of gritty yellow soap in one corner of the windowsill and a piece of flannel stained with a blue bag in another The fireplace was choked with a litter of rubbish She poked among it for treasure but found nothing except a hairtidy with a heart painted on it that had belonged to the servant girl Even that she left lying PAGE 14 and she slipped through the narrow passage into the drawingroom The venetian blind was pulled down but not drawn close Sunlight piercing the green chinks shone once again upon the purple urns brimming over with yellow chrysanthemums that patterned the walls The hideous box was quite bare so was the diningroom except for the sideboard that stood in the middle forlorn its shelves edged with a scallop of black leather But this room had a ‘funny’ smell Kezia lifted her head and sniffed again to remember Silent as a kitten she crept up the ladderlike stairs In Mr and Mrs Burnells room she found a pill box black and shiny outside and red in holding a blob of cotton wool ‘I could keep a birds egg in that’ she decided The only other room in the house the little tin bathroom did not count was their room where Isabel and Lottie had slept in one bed and she and Grandma in another She knew there was nothing there—she had watched Grandma pack Oh yes there was A stay button stuck in a crack of the floor and in another crack some beads and a long needle She went over to the window and leaned against it pressing her hands against the pane
From the window you saw beyond the yard a deep gully filled with tree ferns and a thick tangle of PAGE 15 wild green and beyond that there stretched the esplanade bounded by a broad stone wall against which the sea chafed and thundered Kezia had been born in that room She had come forth squealing out of a reluctant mother in the teeth of a ‘Southerly Buster’ The Grandmother shaking her before the window had seen the sea rise in green mountains and sweep the esplanade The little house was like a shell to its loud booming Down in the gully the wild trees lashed together and big gulls wheeling and crying skimmed past the misty window
Kezia liked to stand so before the window She liked the feeling of the cold shining glass against her hot little palms and she liked to watch the funny white tops that came on her fingers when she pressed them hard against the pane
As she stood the day flickered out and sombre dusk entered the empty house thievish dusk stealing the shapes of things sly dusk painting the shadows At her heels crept the wind snuffling and howling The windows shook a creaking came from the walls and floors a piece of loose iron on the roof banged forlornly—Kezia did not notice these things severally but she was suddenly quite quite still with wide PAGE 16 open eyes and knees pressed together—terribly frightened Her old bogey the dark had overtaken her and now there was no lighted room to make a despairing dash for Useless to call ‘Grandma—useless to wait for the servant girls cheerful stumping up the stairs to pull down the blinds and light the bracket lamp … There was only Lottie in the garden If she began to call Lottie now and went on calling her loudly all the while she flew down the stairs and out of the house she might escape from It in time It was round like the sun It had a face It smiled but It had no eyes It was yellow When she was put to bed with two drops of aconite in a medicine glass It breathed very loudly and firmly and It had been known on certain particularly fearful occasions to turn round and round It hung in the air That was all she knew and even that much had been very difficult to explain to the Grandmother Nearer came the terror and more plain to feel the ‘silly’ smile She snatched her hands from the window pane opened her mouth to call Lottie and fancied that she did call loudly though she made no sound … It was at the top of the stairs It was at the bottom of the stairs waiting in the little dark passage guarding the back door—But Lottie was at the back door too
PAGE 17
‘Oh there you are’ she said cheerfully ‘The storemans here Everythings on the dray —and three horses Kezia Mrs Samuel Josephs has given us a big shawl to wear round us and she says button up your coat She wont come out because of asthma and she says “never do it again”’ Lottie was very important
‘Now then you kids’ called the storeman He hooked his big thumbs under their arms Up they swung Lottie arranged the shawl ‘most beautifully’ and the storeman tucked up their feet in a piece of old blanket ‘Lift up—easy does it’ They might have been a couple of young ponies
The storeman felt over the cords holding his load unhooked the brake chain from the wheel and whistling he swung up beside them
‘Keep close to me’ said Lottie ‘because otherwise you pull the shawl away from my side Kezia
But Kezia edged up to the storeman He towered beside her big as a giant and he smelled of nuts and wooden boxes
two
A
JOURNEY
WITH THE STOREMAN
PAGE BREAKPAGE BREAK
two
A
JOURNEY
WITH THE STOREMAN
IT WAS THE FIRST time that Lottie and Kezia had ever been out so late Everything looked different—the painted wooden houses much smaller than they did by day the trees and the gardens far bigger and wilder Bright stars speckled the sky and the moon hung over the harbour dabbling the waves with gold They could see the lighthouse shining from Quarantine Island the green lights fore and aft the old black coal hulks
‘There comes the Picton boat’ said the storeman PAGE 22 pointing with his whip to a little steamer all hung with bright beads
But when they reached the top of the hill and began to go down the other side the harbour disappeared and although they were still in the town they were quite lost Other carts rattled past Everybody knew the storeman
‘Night Fred
‘Nighto’ he shouted
Kezia liked very much to hear him Whenever a cart appeared in the distance she looked up and waited for his voice In fact she liked him altogether he was an old friend she and the Grandmother had often been to his place to buy grapes The storeman lived alone in a cottage with a glasshouse that he had built himself leaning against it All the glasshouse was spanned and arched over with one beautiful vine He took her brown basket from her lined it with three large leaves and then he felt in his belt for a little horn knife reached up and snipped off a big blue cluster and laid it on the leaves as tenderly as you might put a doll to bed He was a very big man He wore brown velvet trousers and he had a long brown beard but he never wore a collar—not even on Sundays The back of his neck was dark red
PAGE 23
‘Where are we now’ Every few minutes one of the children asked him the question and he was patient
‘Why this is Hawstone Street’ or ‘Hill Street’ or ‘Charlotte Crescent
‘Of course it is’ Lottie pricked up her ears at the last name she always felt that Charlotte Crescent belonged specially to her Very few people had streets with the same name as theirs
‘Look Kezia There is Charlotte Crescent Doesnt it look different
They reached their last boundary marks—the fire alarm station—a little wooden affair painted red and sheltering a huge bell—and the white gates of the Botanical Gardens gleaming in the moonlight Now everything familiar was left behind now the big dray rattled into unknown country along the new roads with high clay banks on either side up the steep towering hills down into valleys where the bush drew back on either side just enough to let them past through a wide shallow river—the horses pulled up to drink and made a rare scramble at starting again—on and on—further and further Lottie drooped her head wagged she slipped half into Kezias lap and lay there But Kezia could not PAGE 24 open her eyes wide enough The wind blew on them she shivered but her cheeks and her ears burned She looked up at the stars
Do stars ever blow about’ she asked
Well I never noticed ‘em’ said the storeman
Came a thin scatter of lights and the shape of a tin church rising out of a ring of tombstones
They call this were coming to—“The Flats”’ said the storeman
We got a nuncle and a naunt living near here’ said Kezia—Aunt Doady and Uncle Dick Theyve got two children Pip the eldest is called and the youngests name is Rags Hes got a ram He has to feed it with a nenamel teapot and a glove top over the spout Hes going to show us What is the difference between a ram and a sheep
Well a ram has got horns and it goes for you
Kezia considered
I dont want to see it frightfully’ she said ‘I hate rushing animals like dogs and parrots—dont you I often dream that animals rush at me—even camels and while theyre rushing their heads swell—enormous
My word’ said the storeman
A very bright little place shone ahead of them PAGE 25 and in front of it was gathered a collection of traps and carts As they drew near someone ran out of the bright place and stood in the middle of the road waving his apron
Going to Mr Burnells’ shouted the someone
Thats right’ said Fred and drew rein
Well I got a passel for them in the store Come inside half a jiffy will you
Weell I got a couple of little kids along with me’ said Fred But the someone had already darted back across his verandah and through the glass door The storeman muttered something about ‘stretching their legs’ and swung off the dray
Where are we’ said Lottie raising herself up The bright light from the shop window shone over the little girls Lotties reefer cap was all on one side and on her cheek there was the print of an anchor button she had pressed against while sleeping Tenderly the storeman lifted her set her cap straight and pulled down her crumpled clothes She stood blinking on the verandah watching Kezia who seemed to come flying through the air to her feet Into the warm smoky shop they went Kezia and Lottie sat on two barrels their legs dangling
Ma’ shouted the man in the apron He leaned PAGE 26 over the counter ‘Name of Tubb’ he said shaking hands with Fred ‘Ma’ he bawled ‘Gotter couple of young ladies here’ Came a wheeze from behind a curtain ‘Arf a mo dearie
Everything was in that shop Bluchers and sand shoes straw hats and onions were strung across the ceiling mixed with bunches of cans and tin teapots and broomheads and brushes There were bins and canisters against the walls and shelves of pickles and jams and things in tins One corner was fitted up as a drapers—you could smell the rolls of flannelette—and one as a chemists with cards of rubber dummies and jars of worm chocolate One barrel brimmed with apples—one had a tap and a bowl under it half full of molasses a third was stained deep red inside and a wooden ladle with a crimson handle was balanced across it It held raspberries And every spare inch of space was covered with a flypaper or an advertisement Sitting on stools or boxes or lounging against things a collection of big untidy men yarned and smoked One very old one with a dirty beard sat with his back half turned to the other chewing tobacco and spitting a long distance into a huge round spittoon peppered with sawdust After he had spat he combed his beard with a shaking hand ‘Weell PAGE 27 thats how it is’ or—Thats ‘ow tiappens—or ‘There youve got it yer see’ he would quaver But nobody paid any attention to him but Mr Tubb who cocked an occasional eye and roared ‘Now then Father’ And then the combing hand would be curved over the ear and the silly face screwed up—‘Ay—to droop again and then start chewing
From the store the road completely changed Very slowly twisting as if loath to go turning as if shy to follow it slipped into a deep valley In front and on either side there were paddocks and beyond them bushcovered hills thrust up into the morning air like dark heaving water You could not imagine that the road led beyond the valley Here it seemed to reach its perfect end—the valley knotted upon the bend of the road like a big jade tassel
Can we see the house from here—the house from here’ piped the children Houses were to be seen—little houses—they counted three but not their house The storeman knew He had made the journey twice before that day At last he raised his whip and pointed
‘Thats one of your paddocks belonging ‘he said ‘an’ the next and the next’ Over the edge of the PAGE 28 last paddock pushed tree boughs and bushes from an immense garden
A corrugated iron fence painted white held back the garden from the road In the middle there was a gap—the iron gates were open wide They clanked through up a drive cutting through the garden like a whip lash looping suddenly an island of green and behind the island out of sight until you came upon it was the house It was long and low built with a pillared verandah and balcony running all the way round—shallow steps led to the door The soft white bulk of it lay stretched upon the green garden like a sleeping beast and now one and now another of the windows leapt into light Someone was walking through the empty rooms carrying a lighted candle From a window downstairs the light of a fire flickered a strange beautiful excitement seemed to stream from the house in quivering ripples Over the roofs the verandah poles the window sashes the moon swung her lantern
‘Ooh’ Kezia flung out her arms The Grandmother had appeared on the top step she carried a little lamp—she was smiling ‘Has this house got a name’ asked Kezia fluttering for the last time out of the storemans hands
PAGE 29
‘Yes’ said the Grandmother ‘it is called Tarana
‘Tarana’ she repeated and put her hands upon the big glass door knob
‘Stay where you are one moment children’ The Grandmother turned to the storeman ‘Fred these things can be unloaded and left on the verandah for the night Pat will help you She turned and called into the hollow hall ‘Pat are you there’
‘I am’ came a voice and the Irish handy man squeaked in new boots over the bare boards
But Lottie staggered over the verandah like a bird fallen out of a nest If she stood still for a moment her eyes closed—if she leaned she fell asleep she could not walk another step
‘Kezia’ said the Grandmother ‘can I trust you to carry the lamp
‘Yes my Grandma’ The old woman knelt and gave the bright breathing thing into her hands and then she raised herself and caught up Lottie ‘This way
Through a square hall filled with furniture bales and hundreds of parrots but the parrots were on the wallpaper down a narrow passage where the parrots persisted on either side walked Kezia with her lamp
PAGE 30
‘You are to have some supper before you go to bed’ said the Grandmother putting down Lottie to open the diningroom door ‘Be very quiet’ she warned ‘poor little Mother has got such a headache
Linda Burnell lay before a crackling fire in a long cane chair her feet on a hassock a plaid rug over her knees Burnell and Beryl sat at a table in the middle of the room eating a dish of fried chops and drinking tea out of a brown china teapot Over the back of her Mothers chair leaned Isabel She had a white comb in her fingers and in a gentle absorbed way she was combing back the curls from her Mothers forehead Outside the pool of lamp and firelight the room stretched dark and bare to the hollow windows
‘Are those the children’ Mrs Burnell did not even open her eyes—her voice was tired and trembling ‘Have either of them been maimed for life
‘No dear perfectly safe and sound
‘Put down that lamp Kezia’ said Aunt Beryl ‘or we shall have the house on fire before were out of the packing cases More tea—Stan
‘Well you might just give me fiveeighths of a PAGE 31 cup’ said Burnell leaning across the table ‘Have another chop Beryl Tiptop meat isnt it First rate first rate Not too lean not too fat’ He turned to his wife ‘Sure you wont change your mind Linda darling
‘Oh the very thought of it …’ She raised one eyebrow in a way she had
The Grandmother brought the children two bowls of bread and milk and they sat up to the table their faces flushed and sleepy behind the waving steam …
‘I had meat for my supper’ said Isabel still combing gently ‘I had a whole chop for my supper —the bone an’ all an’ Worcestershire sauce Didnt I Father
‘Oh dont boast Isabel’ said Aunt Beryl Isabel looked astounded
‘I wasnt boasting was I Mummy I never thought of boasting I thought theyd like to know I only meant to tell them
‘Very well thats enough’ said Burnell He pushed back his plate took a toothpick out of his waistcoat pocket and began picking his strong white teeth
‘You might see that Fred has a bite of something in the kitchen before he goes will you Mother
PAGE 32
‘Yes Stanley’ The old woman turned to go
‘Oh and hold on a jiffy I suppose nobody knows where my slippers were put I suppose I shant be able to get at ‘em for a month or two eh
‘Yes’ came from Linda ‘In the top of the canvas holdall marked “Urgent Necessities”
‘Well you might bring them to me will you Mother
‘Yes Stanley
Burnell got up stretched himself turned his back to the fire and lifted up his coat tail
‘By Jove this is a pretty pickle Eh Beryl
Beryl sipping tea her elbow on the table smiled over the cup at him She wore an unfamiliar pink pinafore The sleeves of her blouse were rolled up to her shoulders showing her lovely freckled arms and she had let her hair fall down her back in a long pigtail
‘How long do you think it will take you to get straight—couple of weeks eh’ he chaffed
‘Good Heavens no’ said Beryl ‘The worst is over already All the beds are up Everythings in the house—your and Lindas room is finished already The servant girl and I have simply slaved all day and ever since Mother came shes worked like a horse PAGE 33 too Weve never sat down for a moment We have had a day
Stanley scented a rebuke
‘Well I suppose you didnt expect me to tear away from the office and nail carpets did you
‘Certainly not’ said Beryl airily She put down her cup and ran out of the diningroom
‘What the hell did she expect to do’ asked Stanley ‘Sit down and fan herself with a palmleaf fan while I hired a gang of professionals to do the job Eh By Jove if she cant do a hands turn occasionally without shouting about it in return for …’ And he gloomed as the chops began to fight the tea in his sensitive stomach But Linda put up a hand and dragged him down on to the side of her long cane chair
‘This is a wretched time for you old boy’ she said fondly Her cheeks were very white but she smiled and curled her fingers round the big red hand she held ‘And with a wife about as bright and gay as a yesterdays buttonhole’ she said ‘Youve been awfully patient darling
‘Rot’ said Burnell but he began to whistle The Holy City—a good sign
‘Think youre going to like it’ he asked
PAGE 34
‘I dont want to tell you but I think I ought to Mother’ said Isabel ‘Kezias drinking tea out of Aunt Beryls cup
They were trooped off to bed by the Grandmother She went first with a candle the stairs rang to their climbing feet Isabel and Lottie lay in a room to themselves Kezia curled in the Grandmothers big bed
‘Arent there any sheets my Grandma
‘No not tonight
‘Its very tickly’ said Kezia ‘Its like Indians Come to bed soon an’ be my Indian brave
‘What a silly you are’ said the old woman tucking her in as she loved to be tucked
‘Are you going to leave the candle
‘No Hush go to sleep
‘Well kin I have the door left open
She rolled herself into a round but she did not go to sleep From all over the house came the sound of steps The house itself creaked and popped Loud whispery voices rose and fell Once she heard Aunt Beryls rush of high laughter Once there came a loud trumpeting from Burnell blowing his nose Outside the windows hundreds of black cats with yellow PAGE 35 eyes sat in the sky watching her but she was not frightened
Lottie was saying to Isabel ‘Im going to say my prayers in bed tonight
‘No you cant Lottie’ Isabel was very firm ‘God only excuses you saying your prayers in bed if youve got a temperature’ So Lottie yielded
Gentle Jesus meek an’ mile
Look ‘pon little chil’
Pity me simple Lizzie
Suffer me come to Thee
Fain would I to Thee be brought
Dearest Lor’ forbd it not
In the Kinkdom of Thy grace
Make a little chil’ a place Amen
And then they lay down back to back just touching and fell asleep
Standing in a pool of moonlight Beryl Fairfield undressed herself She was tired but she pretended to be more tired than she really was—letting her clothes fall pushing back with a charming gesture her warm heavy hair
‘Oh how tired I am very tired’ She shut her eyes a moment but her lips smiled her breath rose and fell in her breast like fairy wings The window PAGE 36 awas open it was warm and still Somewhere out there in the garden a young man dark and slender with mocking eyes tiptoed among the bushes and gathered the garden into a big bouquet and slipped under her window and held it up to her She saw herself bending forward He thrust his head among the white waxy flowers
‘No no’ said Beryl She turned from the window she dropped her nightgown over her head
‘How frightfully unreasonable Stanley is sometimes’ she thought buttoning And then as she lay down came the old thought the cruel leaping thought ‘If I had money’ only to be shaken off and beaten down by calling to her rescue her endless pack of dreams A young man immensely rich just arrived from England meets her quite by chance The new Governor is married There is a ball at Government House to celebrate his wedding Who is that exquisite creature in eau de nil satin … Beryl Fairfield
‘The thing that pleases me’ said Stanley leaning against the side of the bed in his shirt and giving himself a good scratch before turning in ‘is that on the strict qt Linda Ive got the place dirt cheap I was talking about it to little Teddy Dear today and he said he simply couldnt understand why theyd PAGE 37 accepted my figure You see land about here is bound to become more and more valuable—in about ten years time… Of course we shall have to go very slow from now on and keep down expenses … cut ‘em as fine as possible Not asleep are you
‘No dear Im listening’ said Linda
He sprang into bed leaned over her and blew out the candle
‘Goodnight Mr Business Man’ she said and she took hold of his head by the ears and gave him a quick kiss Her faint far away voice seemed to come from a deep well
‘Goodnight darling’ He slipped his arm under her neck and drew her to him
‘Yes clasp me’ she said faintly in her far away sleeping voice…
Pat the handy man sprawled in his little room behind the kitchen His spongebag coat and trousers hung from the door peg like a hanged man From the blanket edge his twisted feet protruded and on the floor of his room there was an empty cane bird cage He looked like a comic picture
‘Honk honk’ came from the snoring servant girl next door she had adenoids
Last to go to bed was the Grandmother
PAGE 38
‘What not asleep yet
‘No Im waiting for you’ said Kezia
The old woman sighed and lay down beside her Kezia thrust her head under the Grandmothers arm
‘Who am I’ she whispered This was an old established ritual to be gone through between them
‘You are my little brown bird’ said the Grandmother
Kezia gave a guilty chuckle The Grandmother took out her teeth and put them in a glass of water beside her on the floor
Then the house was still
In the garden some owls called perched on the branches of a lace bark tree ‘More pork more pork’ And far away from the bush came a harsh rapid chatter ‘Hahahaha Hahahaha
Dawn came sharp and chill The sleeping people turned over and hunched the blankets higher They sighed and stirred but the brooding house all hung about with shadows held the quiet in its lap a little longer A breeze blew over the tangled garden dropping dew and dropping petals shivered over the drenched paddock grass lifted the sombre bush PAGE 39 and shook from it a wild and bitter scent In the green sky tiny stars floated a moment and then they were gone they were dissolved like bubbles The cocks shrilled from the neighbouring farms the cattle moved in their stalls the horses grouped under the trees lifted their heads and swished their tails and plain to be heard in the early quiet was the sound of the creek in the paddock running over the brown stones running in and out of the sandy hollows hiding under clumps of dark berry bushes spilling into a swamp full of yellow waterflowers and cresses All the air smelled of water the lawn was hung with bright drops and spangles
And then quite suddenly at the first glint of sun the birds began to sing Big cheeky birds starlings and minors whistled on the lawns the little birds the goldfinches and fantails and linnets twittered flitting from bough to bough and from tree to tree hanging the garden with bright chains of song A lovely kingfisher perched on the paddock fence preening his rich beauty
How loud the birds are’ said Linda in her dream She was walking with her father through a green field sprinkled with daisies and suddenly he bent forward and parted the grasses and showed her PAGE 40 a tiny ball of fluff just at her feet ‘Oh Papa the darling’ She made a cup of her hands and caught the bird and stroked its head with her fingers It was quite tame But a strange thing happened As she stroked it it began to swell It ruffled and pouched it grew bigger and bigger and its round eyes seemed to smile at her Now her arms were hardly wide enough to hold it she dropped it in her apron It had become a baby with a big naked head and a gaping bird mouth opening and shutting Her father broke into a loud clattering laugh and Linda woke to see Burnell standing by the windows rattling the venetian blinds up to the very top
‘Hullo’ he said ‘didnt wake you did I Nothing much the matter with the weather this morning’ He was enormously pleased Weather like this set a final seal upon his bargain He felt somehow that he had bought the sun too got it chucked in dirt cheap with the house and grounds He dashed off to his bath and Linda turned over raised herself on one elbow to see the room by daylight It looked wonderfully lived in already all the furniture had found a place all the old ‘paraphernalia’ as she expressed it even to photographs on the mantelpiece and medicine bottles on a shelf over the washstand But this PAGE 41 room was much bigger than their other room had been—that was a blessing Her clothes lay across a chair her outdoor things a purple cape and a round hat with a plume in it were tossed on the box ottoman Looking at them a silly thought brought a fleeting smile into her eyes—Perhaps Im going away again today’ and for a moment she saw herself driving away from them all in a little buggy—driving away from every one of them and waving
Back came Stanley girt with a towel glowing and slapping his thighs He pitched the wet towel on top of her cape and hat and standing firm in the exact centre of a square of sunlight he began to do his exercises—deep breathing bending squatting like a frog and shooting out his legs He was so saturated with health that everything he did delighted him but this amazing vigour seemed to set him miles and worlds away from Linda—she lay on the white tumbled bed and leaned towards him laughing as if from the sky
Oh hang Oh damn’ said Stanley who had butted into a crisp shirt only to find that some idiot a woman had fastened the neckband and he was caught He stalked over to her waving his arms
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‘Now you look the image of a fat turkey’ said she
‘Fat I like that’ said Stanley ‘Why I havent got a square inch of fat on me Feel that
‘My dear—hard as nails’ mocked she
‘Youd be surprised’ said Stanley as though this were intensely interesting ‘at the number of chaps at the club whove got a corporation Young chaps you know—about my own age
He began parting and brushing his stiff ginger hair his blue eyes fixed and round in the glass bent at the knees because the dressing table was always—confound it—a bit too low for him ‘Little Teddy Dear for example’ and he straightened describing upon himself an enormous curve with the hair brush ‘Of course theyre sitting on their hindquarters all day in the office and when theyre away from it as far as I can make out they stodge and they snooze—I must say Ive got a perfect horror …
‘Yes my dear dont worry youll never be fat
Youre far too energetic’ said Linda repeating the familiar formula that he never tired of hearing
‘Yes yes I suppose thats true’ and taking a motherofpearl penknife out of his pocket he began to pare his nails
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‘Breakfast Stanley’ Beryl was at the door ‘Oh Linda Mother says dont get up yet Stay where you are until after lunch wont you’ She popped her head in at the door She had a big piece of syringa stuck through a braid of her hair ‘Everything we left on the verandah last night is simply sopping this morning You should see poor dear Mother wringing out the sofa and chairs However no harm done—not a penn’ orth of harm’ this with the faintest glance at Stanley
‘Have you told Pat what time to have the buggy round Its a good sixandahalf miles from here to the office—
‘I can imagine what this morning start off for the office will become’ thought Linda Even when they lived in town only half an hour away the house had to slow down each morning had to stop like a steamer every soul on board summoned to the gangway to watch Burnell descending the ladder and into the little cockle shell They must wave when he waved give him goodbye for goodbye and lavish upon him unlimited sympathy as though they saw on the horizons brim the untamed land to which he curved his chest so proudly—the line of leaping savages ready to fall upon his valiant sword
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‘Pat Pat’ she heard the servant girl calling But Pat was evidently not to be found the silly voice went baaing all over the garden
‘It will be very high pressure indeed’ she decided and she did not rest again until the final slam of the front door sounded and Stanley was gone
Later she heard her children playing in the garden Lotties stolid compact little voice cried ‘Kezia Isabel’ Lottie was always getting lost or losing people and finding them again—astonished—round the next tree or the next corner ‘Oh there you are’ They had been turned out to grass after breakfast with strict orders not to come near the house until they were called Isabel wheeled a neat pramload of prim dolls and Lottie was allowed for a great treat to walk beside holding the dolls parasol over the face of the wax one
‘Where are you going to Kezia’ asked Isabel who longed to find some light and menial duty that Kezia might perform and so be roped in under her government
‘Oh just away’ said Kezia
‘Come back Kezia Come back Youre not to go on the wet grass until its dry Grandma says’ called Isabel
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‘Bossy Bossy’ Linda heard Kezia answer
‘Do the childrens voices annoy you Linda’ asked old Mrs Fairfield coming in at that moment with a breakfast tray ‘Shall I tell them to go further away from the house
‘No dont bother’ said Linda ‘Oh Mother I do not want any breakfast
‘I have not brought you any’ said Mrs Fairfield putting down the tray on the bed table ‘A spot of porridge a finger of toast …
‘The merest sensation of marmalade—’ mocked Linda
But Mrs Fairfield remained serious ‘Yes dearie and a little pot of fresh tea
She brought from the cupboard a white woollen jacket trimmed with red bows and buttoned it round her daughter
‘Must I’ pouted Linda making a face at the porridge
Mrs Fairfield walked about the room she lowered the blinds tidied away the evidences of Burnells toilet and gently she lifted the dampened plume of the little round hat There was a charm and a grace in all her movements It was not that she merely ‘set in order there seemed to be almost PAGE 46 a positive quality in the obedience of things to her fine hands they found not only their proper but their perfect place
She wore a grey foulard dress patterned with large purple pansies a white linen apron and one of those high caps shaped like a jelly mould of white tulle At her throat a big silver brooch shaped like a crescent moon with five owls sitting on it and round her neck a black bead watch chain If she had been a beauty in her youth—and she had been a very great beauty indeed report had it that her miniature had been painted and sent to Queen Victoria as the belle of Australia—old age had touched her with exquisite gentleness Her long curling hair was still black at her waist grey between her shoulders and it framed her head in frosted silver The late roses—the last roses that frail pink kind so reluctant to fall such a wonder to find—still bloomed in her cheeks and behind big goldrimmed spectacles her blue eyes shone and smiled And she still had dimples On the backs of her hands at her elbows—one in the left hand corner of her chin Her body was the colour of old ivory She bathed in cold water summer and winter and she could only bear linen next to her skin and suede gloves on her hands Upon everything PAGE 47 she used there lingered a trace of Cashmere bouquet perfume
‘How are you getting on downstairs’ asked Linda playing with her breakfast
‘Beautifully Pat has turned out a treasure He has laid all the linoleum and the carpets and Minnie seems to be taking a real interest in the kitchen and pantries
‘Pantries Theres grandeur after that birdcage of a larder in the other cubbyhole
‘Yes I must say the house is wonderfully convenient and ample in every way You should have a good look round when you get up
Linda smiled shaking her head
‘I dont want to I dont care The house can bulge cupboards and pantries but other people will explore them Not me
‘But why not’ asked Mrs Fairfield anxiously watching her
‘Because I dont feel the slightest crumb of interest my Mother
‘But why dont you dear You ought to try—to begin—even for Stanleys sake Hell be so bitterly disappointed if …’ Lindas laugh interrupted
‘Oh trust me Ill satisfy Stanley Besides I can rave all the better over what I havent seen
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‘Nobody asks you to rave Linda’ said the old woman sadly
‘Dont they’ Linda screwed up her eyes ‘Im not so sure If I were to jump out of bed now fling on my clothes rush downstairs tear up a ladder hang pictures eat an enormous lunch romp with the children in the garden this afternoon and be swinging on the gate waving when Stanley hove in sight this evening I believe youd be delighted A normal healthy day for a young wife and mother A …
Mrs Fairfield began to smile ‘How absurd you are How you exaggerate What a baby you are’ said she
But Linda sat up suddenly and jerked off the woolly
‘Im boiling Im roasting’ she declared ‘I cant think what Im doing in this big stuffy old bed Im going to get up
‘Very well dear’ said Mrs Fairfield
Getting dressed never took her long Her hands flew She had beautiful hands white and tiny The only trouble with them was that they could not keep her rings on them Happily she only had two rings her wedding ring and a peculiarly hideous affair a square slab with four pin opals in it that Stanleyhad PAGE 49 stolen from a cracker’ said Linda the day they were engaged But it was her wedding ring that disappeared so It fell down every possible place and into every possible corner Once she even found it in the crown of her hat It was a familiar cry in the house ‘Lindas wedding ring has gone again
Stanley Burnell could never hear that without horrible sense of discomfort Good Lord He wasnt superstitious He left that kind of rot to people who had nothing better to think about—but all the same it was devilishly annoying Especially as Linda made so light of the affair and mocked him and said ‘Are they as expensive as all that’ and laughed at him and cried holding up her bare hand—Look Stanley it has all been a dream’ He was a fool to mind things like that but they hurt him—they hurt like sin
‘Funny I should have dreamed about Papa last night’ thought Linda brushing her cropped hair that stood up all over her head in little bronzy rings ‘What was it I dreamed’ No shed forgotten—something or other about a bird’ But Papa was very plain—his lazy ambling walk And she laid dowrn the brush and went over to the mantelpiece and leaned her arms along it her chin in her hands and looked at his photograph In his photograph he PAGE 50 showed severe and imposing a high brow a piercing eye clean shaven except for long ‘piccadilly weepers’ draping his bosom He was taken in the fashion of that time standing one arm on the back of a tapestry chair the other clenched upon a parchment roll
‘Papa’ said Linda She smiled ‘There you are my dear’ she breathed and then she shook her head quickly and frowned and went on with her dressing
Her father had died the year that she married Burnell the year of her sixteenth birthday All her childhood had been passed in a long white house perched on a hill overlooking Wellington harbour—a house with a wild garden full of bushes and fruit trees long thick grass and nasturtiums Nasturtiums grew everywhere—there was no fighting them down They even fell in a shower over the paling fence on to the road Red yellow white every possible colour they lighted the garden like swarms of butterflies The Fairfields were a large family of boys and girls with their beautiful mother and their gay fascinating father for it was only in his photograph that he looked stern they were quite a ‘show’ family and immensely admired
Mr Fairfield managed a small insurance business PAGE 51 that could not have been very profitable yet they lived plentifully He had a good voice he liked to sing in public he liked to dance and attend picnics to put on his ‘bell topper’ and walk out of Church if he disapproved of anything said in the sermon and he had a passion for inventing highly impracticable things like collapsible umbrellas or folding lamps He had one saying with which he met all difficulties ‘Depend upon it it will all come right after the Maori war’ Linda his second but youngest child was his darling his pet his playfellow She was a wild thing always trembling on the verge of laughter ready for anything and eager When he put his arm round her and held her he felt her thrilling with life He understood her so beautifully and gave her so much love for love that he became a kind of daily miracle to her and all her faith centred in him People barely touched her she was regarded as a cold heartless little creature but sheseemed to have an unlimited passion for that violent sweet thing called life—just being alive and able to run and climb and swim in the sea and lie in the grass In the evenings she and her Father would sit on the verandah—she on his knee—and ‘plan
‘When I am grown up we shall travel PAGE 52 every—where—we shall see the whole world—wont we Papa
‘We shall my dear
‘One of your inventions will have a great success Bring you in a good round million yearly
‘We can manage on that
‘But one day we shall be rich and the next poor One day we shall dine in a palace and the next well sit in a forest and toast mushrooms on a hatpin… We shall have a little boat—we shall explore the interior of China on a raft—you will look sweet in one of those huge umbrella hats that Chinamen wear in pictures We wont leave a corner of anywhere unexplored—shall we
‘We shall look under the beds and in all the cupboards and behind every curtain
‘And we shant go as father and daughter’ she tugged at his ‘piccadilly weepers’ and began kissing him ‘Well just go as a couple of boys together—Papa
By the time Linda was fourteen the big family had vanished only she and Beryl who was two years younger were left The girls had married the boys had gone away Linda left off attending the Select Academy for Young Ladies presided over by Miss PAGE 53 Clara Finetta Birch from England a lady whose black hair lay so flat on her head that everybody said it was only painted on and she stayed at home to be a help to her mother For three days she laid the table and took the mending basket on to the verandah in the afternoon but after that she ‘went maddog again’ as her father expressed it and there was no holding her
‘Oh Mother life is so fearfully short said Linda
That summer Burnell appeared Every evening a stout young man in a striped shirt with fiery red hair and a pair of immature mutton chop whiskers passed their house quite slowly four times Twice up the hill he went and twice down he came He walked with his hands behind his back and each time he glanced once at the verandah where they sat—Who was he None of them knew—but he became a great joke
‘Here she blows’ Mr Fairfield would whisper The young man came to be called the ‘ginger whale’ Then he appeared at Church in a pew facing theirs very devout and serious But he had that unfortunate complexion that goes with his colouring and every time he so much as glanced in Lindas direction a crimson blush spread over his face to his ears
‘Look out my wench’ said Mr Fairfield ‘Your PAGE 54 clever Papa has solved the problem That young fellow is after you
‘Henry What rubbish How can you say such things’ said his wife
‘There are times’ said Linda ‘when I simply doubt your sanity Papa’ But Beryl loved the idea The ‘ginger whale’ became ‘Lindas beau
‘You know as well as I do that I am never going to marry’ said Linda ‘How can you be such a traitor Papa
A Social given by the Liberal Ladies’ Political League ripened matters a little Linda and her Papa attended She wore a green sprigged muslin with little capes on the shoulders that stood up like wings and he wore a frock coat and a wired buttonhole as big as a soup plate The Social began with a very painful concert
‘She wore a Wreath of Roses—They played in the Beautiful Garden—A Mother sat Watching—Flee as a Bird to the Mountain—sang the political ladies with forlorn and awful vigour The gentlemen sang with far greater vigour and a kind of defiant cheerfulness which was almost terrifying They looked very furious too Their cuffs shot over their hands or their trousers were far too long … PAGE 55 Comic recitations about flies on bald heads and engaged couples sitting on porch steps spread with glue werecontributed by the chemist Followed an extraordinary meal called upon the handprinted programme Tea and Coffee and consisting of hambeefortongue tinned salmon oyster patties sandwiches col’ meat jellies huge cakes fruit salads in washhand bowls trifles bristling with almonds and large cups of tea dark brown in colour tasting faintly of rust Helping Linda to a horriblelooking pink blancmange which he said was made of strangled babys head her father whispered ‘The ginger whale is here Ive just spotted him blushing at a sandwich Look out my lass Hell sandbag you with one of old Ma Warrens rock cakes
Away went the plates—away went the tables Young Mr Fantail in evening clothes with brown button boots sat down at the piano and crashed into the ‘Lancers
Diddle dee dum tee um tee tum
Diddle dee um te um te tum
…
Diddle dee tum tee diddle tee tum
And half way through the ‘evening’ it actually came to pass Smoothing his white cotton gloves—a PAGE 56 beetroot was pale compared to him a pillar box was a tender pink—Burnell asked Linda for the pleasure and before she realised what had happened his arm was round her waist and they were turning round and round to the air of ‘Three Blind Mice’ arranged by Mr Fantail même
He did not talk while he danced—but Linda liked that
When the dance was over they sat on a bench against the wall Linda hummed the valse tune and beat time with her glove she felt dreadfully shy and she was terrified of her fathers merry eye At last Burnell turned to her
‘Did you ever hear the story of the shy young man who went to his first ball He danced with a girl and then they sat on the stairs and they could not think of a thing to say And after hed picked up everything she dropped from time to time after the silence was simply unbearable he turned round and stammered “DDo you always wwear flannel next to the skin” I feel rather like that chap’ said Burnell
Then she did not hear them any more What a glare there was in the room She hated blinds pulled up to the top at any time—but in the morning in the PAGE 57 morning especially She turned over to the wall and idly with one finger she traced a poppy on the wallpaper with a leaf and a stem and a fat bursting bud In the quiet under her tracing finger the poppy seemed to come alive She could feel the sticky silky petals the stem hairy like a gooseberry skin the rough leaf and the tight glazed bud Things had a habit of coming alive in the quiet she had often noticed it Not only large substantial things like furniture but curtains and patterns of stuffs and fringes of quilts and cushions How often she had seen the tassel fringe of her quilt change into a funny procession of dancers with priests attending … for there were some tassels that did not dance at all but walked stately bent forward as if praying or chanting How often the medicine bottles had turned into a row of little men with brown top hats on And often the washstand jug sat in the basin like a fat bird in a round nest
‘I dreamed about birds last night’ thought Linda What was it No shed forgotten… But the strangest part about this coming alive of things was what they did They listened they seemed to swell out with some mysterious important content and when they were full she felt that they smiled
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Not for her although she knew they ‘recognised’ her their sly meaning smile they were members of a secret order and they smiled among themselves Sometimes when she had fallen asleep in the daytime she woke and could not lift a finger could not even turn her eyes to left or right … they were so strong sometimes when she went out of a room and left it empty she knew as she clicked the door to that they were coming to life And Ah there were times especially in the evenings when she was upstairs perhaps and everybody else was down when she could hardly tear herself away from them—when she could not hurry when she tried to hum a tune to show them she did not care when she tried to say ever so carelessly—Bother that old thimble Where ever have I put it’ But she never never deceived them They knew how frightened she was they saw how she turned her head away as she passed the mirror For all their patience they wanted something of her Half unconsciously she knew that if she gave herself up and was quiet—more than quiet silent motionless something would happen … ‘Its very very quiet now’ thought Linda She opened her eyes wide she heard the stillness spinning its soft endless web How lightly she breathed she scarcely had to PAGE 59 breathe at all … Yes everything had come alive down to the minutest tiniest particle and she did not feel her bed—she floated held up in the air Only she seemed to be listening with her wide open watchful eyes waiting for someone to come who just did not come watching for something to happen that just did not happen
In the kitchen at the long deal table under the two windows old Mrs Fairfield was washing the breakfast dishes The kitchen windows looked out on to a big grass patch that led down to the vegetable garden and the rhubarb beds On one side the grass patch was bordered by the scullery and washhouse and over this long whitewashed ‘lean to’ there grew a big knotted vine She had noticed yesterday that some tiny corkscrew tendrils had come right through some cracks in the scullery ceiling and all the windows of the ‘lean to’ had a thick frill of dancing green
‘I am very fond of a grape vine’ decided Mrs Fairfield ‘but I do not think that the grapes will ripen here It takes Australian sun …’ and she suddenly remembered how when Beryl was a baby she had been picking some white grapes from the PAGE 60 vine on the back verandah of their Tasmanian house and she had been stung on the leg by a huge red ant She saw Beryl in a little plaid dress with red ribbon tieups on the shoulders screaming so dreadfully that half the street had rushed in … and the childs leg had swelled to an enormous size
‘Tttt’ Mrs Fairfield caught her breath remembering ‘Poor child—how terrifying it was’ and she set her lips tight in a way she had and went over to the stove for some more hot water The water frothed up in the soapy bowl with pink and blue bubbles on top of the foam Old Mrs Fairfields arms were bare to the elbow and stained a bright pink She wore a grey foulard dress patterned with large purple pansies a white linen apron and a high cap shaped like a jelly mould of white tulle At her throat there was a silver crescent moon with five little owls seated on it and round her neck she wore a watch guard made of black beads
It was very hard to believe that they had only arrived yesterday and that she had not been in the kitchen for years—she was so much a part of it putting away the clean crocks with so sure and precise a touch moving leisurely and ample from the stove to the dresser looking into the pantry and the larder as PAGE 61 though there were not an unfamiliar corner When she had finished tidying everything in the kitchen had become part of a series of patterns She stood in the middle of the room wiping her hands on a check towel and looking about her a tiny smile beamed on her lips she thought it looked very nice very satisfactory If only servant girls could be taught to understand that it did not only matter how you put a thing away it mattered just as much where you put it—or was it the other way about… But at any rate they never would understand she had never been able to train them …
‘Mother Mother are you in the kitchen’ called Beryl
‘Yes dear do you want me
‘No Im coming’ and Beryl ran in very flushed dragging with her two big pictures
‘Mother whatever can I do with these awful Chinese paintings that Chung Wah gave Stanley when he went bankrupt Its absurd to say they were valuable because they were hanging in Chung Wahs fruit shop for months before I cant understand why Stanley doesnt want them to be thrown away—Im sure he thinks theyre just as hideous as we do but its because of the frames—’ she said spitefully ‘I PAGE 62 suppose he thinks the frames might fetch something one day Ugh What a weight they are
‘Why dont you hang them in the passage’ suggested Mrs Fairfield ‘They would not be much seen there
‘I cant There isnt room Ive hung all the photographs of his office before and after rebuilding there and the signed photographs of his business friends and that awful enlargement of Isabel lying on a mat in her singlet There isnt an inch of room left there’ Her angry glance flew over the placid kitchen ‘I know what Ill do Ill hang them here—Ill say they got a little damp in the moving and so I put them up here in the warm for the time being
She dragged forward a chair jumped up on it took a hammer and a nail out of her deep apron pocket and banged away
‘There Thats high enough Hand me up the picture Mother
‘One moment child—’ she was wiping the carved ebony frame
‘Oh Mother really you need not dust them It would take years to dust all those winding little holes’ and she frowned at the top of her Mothers head and bit her lip with impatience Mothers deliberate way PAGE 63 of doing things was simply maddening It was old age she supposed loftily
At last the two pictures were hung side by side She jumped off the chair stowing back the little hammer
‘They dont look so bad there do they’ said she ‘And at any rate nobody need ever see them except Pat and the servant girl Have I got a spiders web on my face Mother Ive been poking my head into that cupboard under the stairs and now something keeps tickling me
But before Mrs Fairfield had time to look Beryl had turned away again ‘Is that clock right Is it really as early as that Good Heavens it seems years since breakfast
‘That reminds me’ said Mrs Fairfield ‘I must go upstairs and fetch down Lindas tray
‘There’ cried Beryl ‘Isnt that like the servant girl Isnt that exactly like her I told her distinctly to tell you that I was too busy to take it up and would you please instead I never dreamed she hadnt told you
Someone tapped on the window They turned away from the pictures Linda was there nodding and smiling They heard the latch of the scullery PAGE 64 door lift and she came in She had no hat on her hair stood up on her head in curling rings and she was all wrapped up in an old cashmere shawl
‘Please can I have something to eat’ said she
‘Linnet dear I am so frightfully sorry Its my fault’ said Beryl
‘But I wasnt hungry I should have screamed if I had been’ said Linda ‘Mummy darling make me a little pot of tea in the brown china teapot
She went into the pantry and began lifting the lids off a row of tins ‘What grandeur my dears’ she cried coming back with a brown scone and a slice of gingerbread—a pantry and a larder
‘Oh but you havent seen the outhouses yet’ said Beryl ‘There is a stable and a huge barn of a place that Pat calls the feedroom and a woodshed and a toolhouse—all built round a square courtyard that has big white gates to it Awfully grand
‘This is the first time Ive even seen the kitchen’ said Linda ‘Mother has been here Everything is in pairs
‘Sit down and drink your tea’ said Mrs Fairfield spreading a clean table napkin over a corner of the table ‘And Beryl have a cup with her Ill watch you both while Im peeling the potatoes for PAGE 65 dinner I dont know what has happened to the servant girl
‘I saw her on my way downstairs Mummy Shes lying practically at full length on the bathroom floor laying linoleum And she was hammering it so frightfully hard that I am sure the pattern will come through on to the diningroom ceiling I told her not to run any more tacks than she could help into herself but I am afraid that she will be studded for life all the same Have half my piece of gingerbread Beryl Beryl do you like the house now that we are here
‘Oh yes I like the house immensely and the garden is simply beautiful but it feels very far away from anything to me I cant imagine people coming out from town to see us in that dreadful rattling ‘bus and I am sure there isnt anybody here who will come and call… Of course it doesnt matter to you particularly because you never liked living in town
‘But weve got the buggy’ said Linda ‘Pat can drive you into town whenever you like And after all its only six miles away
That was a consolation certainly but there was something unspoken at the back of Beryls mind PAGE 66 something she did not even put into words for herself
‘Oh well at any rate it wont kill us’ she said dryly putting down her cup and standing up and stretching ‘I am going to hang curtains’ And she ran away singing
‘How many thousand birds I see
That sing aloft in every tree
But when she reached the diningroom she stopped singing Her face changed—hardened became gloomy and sullen
‘One may as well rot here as anywhere else’ she said savagely digging the stiff brass safety pins into the red serge curtains…
The two left in the kitchen were quiet for a little Linda leaned her cheek in her fingers and watched her Mother She thought her Mother looked wonderfully beautiful standing with her back to the leafy window There was something comfortable in the sight of her Mother that Linda felt she could never do without She knew everything about her—just what she kept in her pocket and the sweet smell of her flesh and the soft feel of her cheeks and her arms and shoulders still softer—the way the breath PAGE 67 rose and fell in her bosom and the way her hair curled silver round her forehead lighter at the neck and bright brown still in the big coil under the tulle cap Exquisite were her Mothers hands and the colour of the two rings she wore seemed to melt into her warm white skinher wedding ring and a large old fashioned ring with a dark red stone in it that had belonged to Lindas father … And she was always so fresh so delicious ‘Mother you smell of cold water’ she had said The old woman could bear nothing next to her skin but fine linen and she bathed in cold water summer and wintereven when she had to pour a kettle of boiling water over the frozen tap
Isnt there anything for me to do Mother’ she asked
No darling Run and see what the garden is like I wish you would give an eye to the children but that I know you will not do
Of course I will but you know Isabel is much more grown up than any of us
Yes but Kezia is not’ said Mrs Fairfield
Oh Kezias been tossed by a wild bull hours ago’ said Linda winding herself up in her shawl again
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But no Kezia had seen a bull through a hole in a knot of wood in the high paling fence that separated the tennis lawn from the paddock but she had not liked the bull frightfully and so she had walked away back through the orchard up the grassy slope along the path by the lace bark tree and so into the spread tangled garden She did not believe that she would ever not get lost in this garden Twice she had found her way to the big iron gates they had driven through last night and she had begun to walk up the drive that led to the house but there were so many little paths on either side … on one side they all led into a tangle of tall dark trees and strange bushes with flat velvety leaves and feathery cream flowers that buzzed with flies when you shook themthis was a frightening side and no garden at all The little paths were wet and clayey with tree roots spanned across them ‘like big fowls’ feet thought Kezia
But on the other side of the drive there was a high box border and the paths had box edgings and all of them led into a deeper and deeper tangle of flowers It was summer The camelia trees were in flower white and crimson and pink and white striped with flashing leavesyou could not see a leaf on the syringa bushes for the white clusters All kinds of PAGE 69 rosesgentlemens buttonhole roses little white ones but far too full of insects to put under anybodys nose pink monthly roses with a ring of fallen petals round the bushes cabbage roses on thick fat stalks moss roses always in bud pink smooth beauties opening curl on curl red ones so dark that they seemed to turn black as they fell and a certain exquisite cream kind with a slender red stem and bright red leaves Kezia knew the name of that kind it was her Grandmothers favourite
There were clumps of fairy bells and cherry pie and all kinds of geraniums and there were little trees of verbena and bluish lavender bushes and a bed of pelargoniums with velvet eyes and leaves like moths wings There was a bed of nothing but mignonette and another of nothing but pansies borders of double and single daisies all kinds of little tufty plants she had never seen before…
The red hot pokers were taller than she the Japanese sunflowers grew in a tiny jungle She sat down on one of the box borders By pressing hard at first it made a very pleasant springy seat but how dusty it was inside She bent down to look and sneezed and rubbed her nose
And then she found herself again at the top PAGE 70 of the rolling grassy slope that led down to the orchard and beyond the orchard to an avenue of pine trees with wooden seats between bordering one side of the tennis court She looked at the slope a moment then she lay down on her back gave a tiny squeak and rolled over and over into the thick flowery orchard grass As she lay still waiting for things to stop spinning round she decided to go up to the house and ask the servant girl for an empty matchbox She wanted to make a surprise for her Grandmother First she would put a leaf inside with a big violet lying on itthen she would put a very small little white picotee perhaps on each side of the violet and then she would sprinkle some lavender on the top but not to cover their heads She often made these surprises for the Grandmother and they were always most successful
Do you want a match my Granny
Why yes child I believe a match is the very thing I am looking for’ The Grandmother slowly opened the box and came upon the picture inside
Good gracious child how you astonished me
Did Idid I really astonish you’ Kezia threw up her arms with joy
I can make her one every day here’ she thought PAGE 71 scrambling up the grassy slope on her slippery shoes But on her way to the house she came to the island that lay in the middle of the drive dividing the drive into two arms that met in front of the house
The island was made of grass banked up high Nothing grew on the green top at all except one huge round plant with thick greygreen thorny leaves and out of the middle there sprang up a tall stout stem Some of the leaves of this plant were so old that they curved up in the air no longerthey turned backthey were split and brokensome of them lay flat and withered on the groundbut the fresh leaves curved up into the air with their spiked edges some of them looked as though they had been painted with broad bands of yellow
Whatever could it be She had never seen anything like it before She stood and stared And then she saw her mother coming down the path with a red carnation in her hand
Mother what is it’ asked Kezia
Linda looked up at the fat swelling plant with its cruel leaves its towering fleshy stem High above them as though becalmed in the air and yet holding so fast to the earth it grew from it might have had claws and not roots The curving leaves seemed PAGE 72 to be hiding something the big blind stem cut into the air as if no wind could ever shake it
That is an aloe Kezia’ said Linda
Does it ever have any flowers
Yes my child’ said her Mother and she smiled down at Kezia half shutting her eyes ‘once every hundred years
three
THE DAY AFTER
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three
THE DAY AFTER
ON HIS way home from the office Stanley Burnell stopped the buggy at the ‘Bodega got out and bought a large bottle of oysters At the Chinamans shop next door he bought a pineapple in the pink of condition and noticing a basket of fresh black cherries he told John to put him up a pound of those as well The oysters and pineapple he stowed away in the box under the front seat—but the cherries he kept in his hand
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Pat the handy man leapt off the box and tucked him up again in a brown rug
Lift yer feet Mr Burnell while I give her a fold under’ said he
Right right—first rate’ said Stanley—you can make straight for home now
I believe this man is a first rate chap’ thought he as Pat gave the grey mare a touch and the buggy sprang forward He liked the look of him sitting up there in his neat dark brown coat and brown bowler He liked his eyes There was nothing servile about him—and if there was one thing he hated more than another in a servant it was servility—and he looked as though he were pleased with his job happy and contented
The grey mare went very well Burnell was impatient to be home Ah it was splendid to live in the country—to get right out of this hole of a town once the office was closed and this long drive in the fresh warm air knowing all the time that his own home was at the other end with its garden and paddocks its three tiptop cows and enough fowls and ducks to keep them in eggs and poultry was splendid too
As they left the town finally and bowled away up the quiet road his heart beat hard for joy He PAGE 77 rooted in the bag and began to eat the cherries three or four at a time chucking the stones over the side of the buggy They were delicious so plump and cold without a spot or a bruise on them
Look at these two now—black one side and white the other—perfect—a perfect little pair of Siamese twins—and he stuck them in his buttonhole By Jove he wouldnt mind giving that chap up there a handful—but no better not Better wait until he had been with him a bit longer
He began to plan what he would do with his Saturday afternoons and Sundays He wouldnt go to the Club for lunch on Saturday No cut away from the office as soon as possible and get them to give him a couple of slices of cold meat and half a lettuce when he got home And then hed get a few chaps out from town to play tennis in the afternoons Not too many—three at most Beryl was a good player too He stretched out his right arm and slowly bent it feeling the muscles A bath a good rub down a cigar on the verandah after dinner
On Sunday morning they would go to Church—children and all—which reminded him that he must hire a pew in the sun if possible—and well forward so as to be out of the draught from the PAGE 78 door In fancy he heard himself intoning extremely well
WhenThoudidstovercome the sharpness of death Thou didst open the Kingdom of Heaven to All Believers’ and he saw the neat brass edged card on the corner of the pew—Mr Stanley Burnell and Family
The rest of the day hed loaf about with Linda Now she was on his arm they were walking about the garden together and he was explaining to her at length what he intended doing at the office the week following He heard her saying ‘My dear I think that is most wise’ Talking things out with Linda was a wonderful help even though they were apt to drift away from the point …
Hang it all They werent getting along very fast Pat had put the brake on again ‘Hes a bit too ready with that brake Ugh What a brute of a thing it is—I can feel it in the pit of my stomach
A sort of panic overtook Burnell whenever he approached near home Before he was well inside the gate he would shout to anyone in sight—Is everything all right’ And then he did not believe it was until he heard Linda cry ‘Hullo you old boy’ That was the worst of living in the country It took PAGE 79 the deuce of a long time to get back But now they werent far off They were on top of the last hill—it was a gentle slope all the way now and not more than half a mile
Pat kept up a constant trailing of the whip across the mares back and he coaxed her—Goop now Goop now
It wanted a few moments to sunset—everything stood motionless bathed in bright metallic light and from the paddocks on either side there streamed the warm milky smell of ripe hay The iron gates were open They dashed through and up the drive and round the island stopping at the exact middle of the verandah
Did she satisfy yer sir’ said Pat getting off the box and grinning at his master
Very well indeed Pat’ said Stanley
Linda came out of the glass door—out of the shadowy hall—her voice rang in the quiet ‘Hullo youre home again
At the sound of it his happiness beat up so hard and strong that he could hardly stop himself dashing up the steps and catching her in his arms
Yes home again Is everything all right
Perfect’ said she
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Pat began to lead the mare round to the side gate that gave on to the courtyard ‘Here half a moment’ said Burnell ‘Hand me those two parcels will you’ And he said to Linda ‘Ive brought you back a bottle of oysters and a pineapple’ as though he had brought her back all the harvest of the earth
They went into the hall Linda carried the oysters under one arm and the pineapple under the other Burnell shut the glass door threw his hat on the hall stand and put his arms round her straining her to him kissing the top of her head her ears her lips her eyes
Oh dear Oh dear’ she said ‘Wait a minute let me put down these silly things’ and she put down the bottle of oysters and the pineapple on a little carved chair
What have you got in your buttonhole—cherries’ and she took them out and hung them over his ear
No dont do that darling Theyre for you
So she took them off his ear and ran them through her brooch pin ‘You dont mind if I dont eat them now Do you Theyll spoil my appetite for dinner Come and see your children Theyre having tea
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The lamp was lighted on the nursery table Mrs Fairfield was cutting and spreading bread and butter and the three little girls sat up to table wearing large bibs embroidered with their names They wiped their mouths as their Father came in ready to be kissed There was jam on the table too a plate of homemade knobbly buns and cocoa steaming in a Dewars Whisky advertisement jug—a big toby jug half brown half cream with the picture of a man on it smoking a long clay pipe The windows were wide open There was a jar of wild flowers on the mantelpiece and the lamp made a big soft bubble of light on the ceiling
You seem pretty snug Mother’ said Burnell looking round and blinking at the light and smiling at the little girls They sat Isabel and Lottie on either side of the table Kezia at the bottom The place at the top was empty ‘Thats where my boy ought to sit’ thought Stanley He tightened his arm round Lindas shoulder By God he was a perfect fool to feel as happy as this—
We are Stanley We are very snug’ said Mrs Fairfield cutting Kezias bread and jam into fingers
Like it better than town eh children’ said Burnell
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Oh yes Daddy’ said the three little girls and Isabel added as an afterthought ‘Thank you very much indeed Father dear
Come upstairs and have a wash’ said Linda ‘Ill bring your slippers
But the stairs were too narrow for them to go up arm in arm It was quite dark in their room He heard her ring tapping the marble as she felt along the mantelpiece for matches
Ive got some darling Ill light the candles ‘But instead he came up behind her and caught her put his arms round her and pressed her head into his shoulder
Im so confoundedly happy’ he said
Are you’ She turned and put her two hands flat on his breast and looked up at him
I dont know whats come over me’ he protested
It was quite dark outside now and heavy dew was falling When she shut the window the dew wet her finger tips Far away a dog barked
I believe theres going to be a moon’ said she At the words and with the wet cold dew touching her lips and cheeks she felt as though the moon had risen—that she was being bathed in cold light—she PAGE 83 shivered she came away from the window and sat down on the box ottoman beside Stanley
In the diningroom by the flickering glow of a wood fire Beryl sat on a hassock playing the guitar She had bathed and changed all her clothes Now she wore a white muslin dress with big black spots on it and in her hair she had pinned a black rose
Nature has gone to her rest love
See we are all alone
Give me your hand to press love
Lightly within my own
She played and sang half to herself for she was watching herself playing and singing She saw the firelight on her shoes and skirt on the ruddy belly of the guitar on her white fingers
If I were outside the window and looked in and saw myself I really would be rather struck’ she thought Still more softly she played the accompaniment not singing—The first time I ever saw you little girl—you had no idea that you werent alone You were sitting with your little feet up on a hassock playing the guitar—I can never forget …’ and she flung back her head at the imaginary speaker and began to sing again
Even the moon is aweary—
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But there came a loud knock at the door The servant girl popped in her flushed face—
If you please Miss kin I come and lay the dinner
Certainly Alice’ said Beryl in a voice of ice She put the guitar in a corner Alice lunged in with a heavy black iron tray
Well I ‘ave had a job with that oving’ said she ‘I cant get nothing to brown
Really’ said Beryl
But no—she could not bear that fool of a girl She went into the dark drawingroom and began walking up and down She was restless restless restless There was a mirror over the mantelpiece she leaned her arms along and looked at her pale shadow in it ‘I look as though I have been drowned’ said she
four
THE ALOE
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four
THE ALOE
GOOD MORNING Mrs Jones
Oh good morning Mrs Smith Im so glad to see you Have you brought your children
Yes Ive brought both my twins I have had another baby since I saw you last but she came so suddenly that I havent had time to make her any new clothes yet and so I left her at home Hows your husband
Oh hes very well thank you At least he had an PAGE 88 awful sore throat but Queen Victoria shes my grandmother you know sent him a case of pineapples and they cured it immediately Is that your new servant
Yes her names Gwen Ive only had her two days Oh Gwen this is my friend Mrs Smith
Good morning Mrs Smith Dinner wont not be ready for about ten minutes
I dont think you ought to introduce me to the servant I think I ought to just begin talking to her
Well she isnt really quite a servant Shes more of a lady help than a servant and you do introduce lady helps I know because Mrs Samuel Josephs had one
Oh well it doesnt matter“ said the new servant airily beating up a chocolate custard with half a broken clothes peg The dinner was baking beautifully on a concrete step She began to lay the cloth on a broad pink garden seat In front of each person she put two geranium leaf plates a pine needle fork and a twig knife There were three daisy heads on a laurel leaf for poached eggs some slices of fuchsia petals for cold meat—some beautiful little rissoles made of earth and water and dandelion seeds—and the chocolate custard which she decided to serve in the pawa shell she had cooked it in
You neednt trouble about my children’ said
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Mrs Smith graciously ‘If youll just take this bottil and fill it at the tap—I mean in the dairy
‘Oh all right’ said Gwen and she whispered to Mrs Jones—‘Shall I go an’ ask Alice for a little bit of real milk
But someone called from the front of the house ‘Children Children’ and the luncheon party melted away leaving the charming table leaving the rissoles and the eggs on the stones to the little ants and to an old snail who pushed his quivering horns over the edge of the pink garden seat and began slowly to nibble a geranium plate
‘Come round to the front door children Rags and Pip have come
The Trout boys were cousins to the Burnells They lived about a mile away in a house called Monkey Tree Cottage Pip was tall for his age with lank black hair and a white face but Rags was very small and so thin that when he was undressed his shoulder blades stuck out like two little wings They had a mongrel dog too with pale blue eyes and a long tail that turned up at the end who followed them everywhere he was called Snooker They were always combing and brushing Snooker and treating PAGE 90 him with various extraordinary mixtures concocted by Pip and kept secretly by him in a broken jug covered with an old kettle lid Even Rags was not allowed to share the secret of these mixtures He would see Pip mix some carbolic tooth powder and a bit of sulphur powdered fine and perhaps a pinch of starch to stiffen up Snookers coat But he knew that was not all There was something else added that Pip wouldnt tell him of Rags privately thought it was gunpowder And he was never never on any account permitted to help or to look on because of the danger ‘Why if a spot of this flew up’ Pip would say stirring the mixture with an iron spoon ‘youd be blinded to death And theres always the chance—just the chance—of it exploding—if you whack it hard enough Two spoonfuls of this will be enough in a kerosene tin of water to kill thousands of fleas’ Nevertheless Snooker spent all his leisure biting and nudging himself and he stank abominably
‘Its because hes such a grand fighting dog’ Pip would say ‘All fighting dogs smell—
The Trout boys had often gone into town and spent the day with the Burnells but now that they had become neighbours and lived in this big house and boncer garden they were inclined to be very PAGE 91 friendly Besides both of them liked playing with girls Pip because he could fox them so and because Lottie Burnell was so easily frightened and Rags for a shameful reason because he adored dolls The way he would look at a doll as it lay asleep speaking in a whisper and smiling timidly and the great treat it was to him to stretch out his arms and be given a doll to hold
‘Curl your arms around her Dont keep them stiff out like that Youll drop her’ Isabel would command sternly
Now they were standing on the verandah and holding back Snooker who wanted to go into the house but wasnt allowed to because Aunt Linda hated decent dogs
‘We came over in the ‘bus with Mum’ they said ‘and were going to spend the afternoon and stay to tea We brought over a batch of our gingerbread for Aunt Linda Our Minnie made it Its all over nuts—much more than yours ever has’
‘I shelled the almonds’ said Pip ‘I just stuck my hand in a saucepan of boiling water and grabbed them out and gave them a kind of pinch and the nuts flew out of the skins some of them as high as the ceiling Didnt they Rags
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‘When we make cakes at our place’ said Pip ‘we always stay in the kitchen Rags and me and I get the bowl and he gets the spoon and the eggbeater Sponge cakes best—its all frothy stuff then
He ran down the verandah steps on to the lawn planted his hands on the grass bent forward and just did not stand on his head
‘Pooh’ he said ‘that lawns all bumpy you have to have a flat place for standing on your head I can walk all round the monkey tree on my head at our place—nearly cant I Rags
‘Nearly’ said Rags faintly
‘Stand on your head on the verandah Thats quite flat’ said Lottie
‘No smarty’ said Pip ‘you have to do it on something soft see Because if you give a jerk—just a very little jerk and fall over like that and bump yourself something in your neck goes click and it breaks right off Dad told me…
‘Oh do lets have a game’ said Kezia
‘Do lets play something or other
‘Very well’ said Isabel quickly ‘well play hospitals Ill be the nurse and Pip can be the doctor and you and Rags and Lottie can be the sick people
But no Lottie didnt not want to play that PAGE 93 because last time Pip squirted something down her throat and it hurt awfully
‘Pooh’ said Pip ‘it was only the juice out of a bit of orange peel
‘Well lets play ladies’ said Isabel ‘and Pip can be my husband and you can be my three dear little children—Rags can be the baby
‘I hate playing ladies’ said Kezia ‘because you always make us go to Church hand in hand and come home again an’ go to bed
Suddenly Pip took a filthy handkerchief out of his pocket ‘Snooker here sir’ he called But Snooker as usual began to sneak away with his long bent tail between his legs Pip leapt on top of him and held him by his knees
‘Keep his head firm Rags’ he said as he tied the handkerchief round Snookers head with a big funny stickingup knot at the top
‘Whatever is that for’ asked Lottie
‘Its to train his ears to grow more close to his head—see’ said Pip ‘All fighting dogs have ears that lie kind of back and they prick up But Snookers got rotten ears theyre too soft
‘I know’ said Kezia ‘Theyre always turning inside out I hate that
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‘Oh it isnt that’ said Pip ‘but Im training his ears to look a bit more fierce see
Snooker lay down and made one feeble effort with his paw to get the handkerchief off but finding he could not he trailed after the children with his head bound up in the dirty rag—shivering with misery
Pat came swinging by In his hand he held a little tomahawk that winked in the sun ‘Come with me now’ he said to the children ‘and Ill show you how the Kings of Ireland chop off the head of a duck
They held back they didnt believe him it was one of his jokes and besides the Trout boys had never seen Pat before
‘Come on now’ he coaxed smiling and holding out his hand to Kezia
‘A real ducks head’ she said ‘One from ours in the paddock where the fowls and ducks are
‘It is’ said Pat
She put her hand in his hard dry one and he stuck the tomahawk in his belt and held out the other to Rags He loved little children
‘Id better keep hold of Snookers head if theres PAGE 95 going to be any blood about’ said Pip trying not to show his excitement ‘because the sight of blood makes him awfully wild sometimes’ He ran ahead dragging Snooker by the knot in the handkerchief
‘Do you think we ought to’ whispered Isabel to Lottie ‘because we havent asked Grandma or anybody have we
‘But Pats looking after us’ said Lottie
At the bottom of the orchard a gate was set in the paling fence On the other side there was a steep bank leading down to a bridge that spanned the creek and once up the bank on the other side you were on the fringe of the paddocks A little disused stable in the first paddock had been turned into a fowlhouse All about it there spread wirenetting chickruns new made by Pat The fowls strayed far away across the paddock down to a little dumping ground in a hollow on the other side but the ducks kept close to the part of the creek that flowed under the bridge and ran hard by the fowlhouse Tall bushes overhung the stream with red leaves and dazzling yellow flowers and clusters of red and white berries and a little further on there were cresses and a water plant with a flower like a yellow foxglove At some places the stream was wide and shallow PAGE 96 enough to cross by stepping stones but at other places it tumbled suddenly into a steep rocky pool like a little lake with foam at the edge and quivering bubbles It was in these pools that the big white ducks loved to swim and guzzle along the weedy banks Up and down they swam preening their dazzling breasts and other ducks with yellow bills and yellow feet swam upside down below them in the clear still water
‘There they are’ said Pat ‘Theres the little Irish Navy and look at the old Admiral there with the green neck and the grand little flagstaff on his tail
He pulled a handful of grain out of his pocket and began to walk towards the fowlhouse lazily his broad straw hat with the broken crown pulled off his eyes
‘Lidlidlidlidlidlid’ he shouted
‘Qua Quaqua’ answered the ducks making for land and flopping and scrambling up the bank They streamed after him in a long waddling line He coaxed them pretending to throw the grain shaking it in his hands and calling to them until they swept round him close round him quacking and pushing against each other in a white ring From far PAGE 97 away the fowls heard the clamour and they too came across the paddock their heads crooked forward their wings spread turning in their feet in the silly way fowls run and scolding as they came
Then Pat scattered the grain and the greedy ducks began to gobble Quickly he bent forward seized two tucked them quacking and struggling one under each arm and strode across to the children Their darting heads their flat beaks and round eyes frightened the children and they drew back all except Pip
‘Come on sillies’ he cried ‘They cant hurt they havent got any teeth have they Pat Theyve only got those two little holes in their heads to breathe through
‘Will you hold one while I finish with the other’ asked Pat
Pip leg go of Snooker ‘Wont I Wont I Give us one Ill hold him I wont let him go I dont care how much he kicks—give us give us
He nearly sobbed with delight when Pat put the white lump in his arms
There was an old stump beside the door of the fowlshed Pat carried over the other duck grabbed it up in one hand whipped out his little tomahawk PAGE 98 lay the duck flat on the stump and suddenly down came the tomahawk and the ducks head flew off the stump—and up the blood spurted over the white feathers over his hand When the children saw it they were frightened no more They crowded round him and began to scream—even Isabel leaped about and called out ‘The blood the blood’ Pip forgot all about his duck He simply threw it away from him and shouted ‘I saw it I saw it’ and jumped round the wood block
Rags with cheeks as white as paper ran up to the little head and put out a finger as if he meant to touch it then drew back again and again put out a finger He was shivering all over
Even Lottie frightened Lottie began to laugh and point to the duck and shout ‘Look Kezia look look look
‘Watch it’ shouted Pat and he put down the white body and it began to waddle with only a long spurt of blood where the head had been—it began to pad along dreadfully quiet towards the steep ledge that led to the stream It was the crowning wonder
‘Do you see that—do you see it’ yelled Pip and he ran among the little girls pulling at their pinafores
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‘Its like an engine—its like a funny little darling engine’ squealed Isabel
But Kezia suddenly rushed at Pat and flung her arms round his legs and butted her head as hard as she could against his knees
‘Put head back put head back’ she screamed
When he stooped to move her she would not let go or take her head away She held as hard as ever she could and sobbed ‘Head back head back’ until it sounded like a loud strange hiccough
‘Its stopped its tumbled over its dead’ said Pip
Pat dragged Kezia up into his arms Her sunbonnet had fallen back but she would not let him look at her face No she pressed her face into a bone in his shoulder and put her arms round his neck
The children stopped squealing as suddenly as they had begun—they stood round the dead duck Rags was not frightened of the head any more He knelt down and stroked it with his finger and said ‘I dont think perhaps the head is quite dead yet Its warm Pip Would it keep alive if I gave it something to drink
But Pip got very cross and said ‘Bah you PAGE 100 baby’ He whistled to Snooker and went off And when Isabel went up to Lottie Lottie snatched away
‘What are you always touching me for Isabel
‘There now’ said Pat to Kezia ‘Theres a grand little girl
She put up her hands and touched his ear She felt something Slowly she raised her quivering face and looked Pat wore little round gold earrings How very funny She never knew men wore earrings She was very much surprised She quite forgot about the duck
‘Do they come off and on’ she asked huskily
Up at the house in the warm tidy kitchen Alice the servant girl had begun to get the afternoon tea ready She was dressed She had on a black cloth dress that smelt under the arms a white apron so stiff that it rustled like paper to her every breath and movement—and a white muslin bow pinned on top of her head by two large pins—and her comfortable black felt slippers were changed for a pair of black leather ones that pinched the corn on her little toe ‘somethink dreadful
It was warm in the kitchen A big blowfly buzzed PAGE 101 round and round in a circle bumping against the ceiling—a curl of white steam came out of the spout of the black kettle and the lid kept up a rattling jig as the water bubbled The kitchen clock ticked in the warm air slow and deliberate like the click of an old womans knitting needles and sometimes for no reason at all for there wasnt any breeze outside the heavy venetians swung out and back tapping against the windows
Alice was making watercress sandwiches She had a plate of butter on the table before her and a big loaf called a ‘barracouta’ and the cresses tumbled together in the white cloth she had dried them in But propped against the butter dish there was a dirty greasy little book half unstitched with curled edges—and while she mashed some butter soft for spreading she read
‘To dream of four blackbeetles dragging a hearse is bad Signifies death of one you hold near or dear either father husband brother son or intended If the beetles crawl backwards as you watch them it means death by fire or from great height such as flight of stairs scaffolding etc
‘Spiders To dream of spiders creeping over you is good Signifies large sum of money in the near PAGE 102 future Should party be in family way an easy confinement may be expected But care should be taken in the sixth month to avoid eating of probable present of shell fish …’
‘How many thousand birds I see …
Oh Life there was Miss Beryl Alice dropped the knife and stuffed her Dream Book under the butter dish but she hadnt time to hide it quite for Beryl ran into the kitchen and up to the table and the first thing her eye lighted on although she didnt say anything was the grey edges sticking out from the plate Alice saw Miss Beryls scornful meaning little smile and the way she raised her eyebrows and screwed up her eyes as though she couldnt quite make out what that was under the plate edge She decided to answer if Miss Beryl should ask her what it was ‘Nothing as belongs to you Miss’ but she knew Miss Beryl would not ask her
Alice was a mild creature in reality but she always had the most marvellous retorts ready for the questions she knew would never be put to her The composing of them and the turning of them over and over in her brain comforted her just as much as if shed really expressed them and kept her selfrespect PAGE 103 alive in places where she had been that chivvied shed been afraid to go to bed at night with a box of matches on the chair by her in case she bit the tops off in her sleep—as you might say
‘Oh Alice’ said Miss Beryl ‘theres one extra to tea so heat a plate of yesterdays scones please and put on the new Victoria sandwich as well as the coffee cake And dont forget to put little doilys under the plates will you You did yesterday again you know and the tea looked so ugly and common And Alice please dont put that dreadful old pink and green cosy on the afternoon teapot again That is only for the mornings Really I think it had better be kept for kitchen use—its so shabby and quite smelly Put on the Chinese one out of the drawer in the diningroom sideboard You quite understand—dont you Well have tea as soon as it is ready
Miss Beryl turned away
‘That sing aloft on every tree—’
she sang as she left the kitchen very pleased with her firm handling of Alice
Oh Alice was wild She wasnt one to mind being told but there was something in the way Miss Beryl had of speaking to her that she couldnt stand
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It made her curl up inside as you might say and she fair trembled But what Alice really hated Miss Beryl for was—she made her feel low she talked to Alice in a special voice as though she wasnt quite all there and she never lost her temper—never even when Alice dropped anything or forgot anything she seemed to have expected it to happen… ‘If you please Mrs Burnell’ said an imaginary Alice as she went on buttering the scones ‘Id rather not take my orders from Miss Beryl I may be only a common servant girl as doesnt know how to play the guitar …’ This last thrust pleased her so much that she quite recovered her temper She carried the tray along the passage to the diningroom
‘The only thing to do’ she heard as she opened the door ‘is to cut the sleeves out entirely and just have a broad band of black velvet over the shoulders and round the arms instead’ Mrs Burnell with her elder and younger sister leaned over the table in the act of performing a very severe operation upon a white satin dress spread out before them Old Mrs Fairfield sat by the window in the sun with a roll of pink knitting in her lap
‘My dears’ said Beryl ‘here comes the tea at last’ and she swept a place clear for the tray ‘But PAGE 105 Doady’ she said to Mrs Trout ‘I dont think I should dare to appear without any sleeves at all should I
‘My dear’ said Mrs Trout ‘all I can say is that there isnt one single evening dress in Mess’ Readings last catalogue that has even a sign of a sleeve Some of them have a rose on the shoulder and a piece of black velvet but some of them havent even that—and they look perfectly charming What would look very pretty on the black velvet straps of your dress would be red poppies I wonder if I can spare a couple out of this hat
She was wearing a big cream leghorn hat trimmed with a wreath of poppies and daisies—and as she spoke she unpinned it and laid it on her knee and ran her hands over her dark silky hair
Oh I think two poppies would look perfectly heavenly’ said Beryl ‘and just be the right finish but of course I wont hear of you taking them out of that new hat Doady—not for worlds
‘It would be sheer murder’ said Linda dipping a watercress sandwich into the saltcellar and smiling at her sister
‘But I havent the faintest feeling about this hat —or any other for the matter of that’ said Doady PAGE 106 and she looked mournfully at the bright thing on her knee and heaved a profound sigh
The three sisters were very unlike as they sat round the table Mrs Trout tall and pale with heavy eyelids that drooped over her grey eyes and rare slender hands and feet was quite a beauty But Life bored her She was sure that something very tragic was going to happen to her soon She had felt it coming on for years What it was she could not exactly say but she was ‘fated’ somehow How often when she had sat with Mother Linda and Beryl as she was sitting now her heart had said ‘How little they know’ or as it had then ‘What a mockery this hat will be one day’ and she had heaved just such a profound sigh …
And each time before her children were born she had thought that the tragedy would be fulfilled then Her child would be born dead or she saw the nurse going in to Richard her husband and saying ‘Your child lives but—and here the nurse pointed one finger upwards like the illustration of Agnes in ‘David Copperfield—‘your wife is no more’ But no nothing particular had happened except that they had been boys and she had wanted girls tender little caressing girls not too strong with hair to curl and PAGE 107 sweet little bodies to dress in white muslin threaded with pale blue
Ever since her marriage she had lived at Monkey Tree Cottage Her husband left for town at eight oclock every morning and did not return until halfpast six at night Minnie was a wonderful servant She did everything there was to be done in the house and looked after the little boys and even worked in the garden… So Mrs Trout became a perfect martyr to headaches Whole days she spent on the drawingroom sofa with the blinds pulled down and a linen handkerchief steeped in eaudeCologne on her forehead And as she lay there she used to wonder why it was that she was so certain that life had something terrible for her and to try to imagine what that terrible thing could be … until by and by she made up perfect novels with herself for the heroine all of them ending with some shocking catastrophe ‘Dora—for in these novels she always thought of herself in the third person it was more touching somehow—‘Dora felt strangely happy that morning She lay on the verandah looking out on the peaceful garden and she felt how sheltered and how blest her life had been after all Suddenly the gate opened A working man a perfect stranger PAGE 108 to her pushed up the path and standing in front of her he pulled off his cap his rough face full of pity
‘“Ive bad news for you Maam …
‘“Dead” cried Dora clasping her hands “Both dead …”’
Or since the Burnells had come to live at Tarana … she woke in the middle of the night The room was full of a strange glare ‘Richard Richard wake Tarana is on fire’ … At last all were taken out They stood on the blackened grass watching the flames rage Suddenly the cry went up Where was Mrs Fairfield God where was she ‘Mother’ cried Dora dropping on to her knees on the wet grass ‘Mother’ And she saw her Mother appear at an upper window Just for a moment she seemed to faintly waver… There came a sickening crash…
These dreams were so powerful that she would turn over bury her face in the ribbon work cushion and sob But they were a profound secret and Doadys melancholy was always put down to her dreadful headaches…
‘Hand over the scissors Beryl and Ill snip them off now
‘Doady you are to do nothing of the kind’ said Beryl handing her two pairs of scissors to choose from
PAGE 109
The poppies were snipped off ‘I hope you will really like Tarana’ she said sitting back in her chair and sipping her tea ‘Of course it is at its best now but I cant help feeling a little afraid that it will be very damp in the winter Dont you feel that Mother The very fact that the garden is so lovely is a bad sign in a way—and then of course it is quite in the valley isnt it I mean it is lower than any of the other houses
‘I expect it will be flooded from the autumn to the spring’ said Linda ‘We shall have to set little frog traps Doady—little mouse traps in bowls of water baited with a sprig of watercress instead of a piece of cheese And Stanley will have to row to the office in an open boat Hed love that I can imagine the glow he would arrive in and the way hed measure his chest twice a day to see how fast it was expanding
‘Linda you are very silly—very’ said Mrs Fairfield
‘What can you expect from Linda’ said Doady ‘she laughs at everything—everything I often wonder if there will ever be anything that Linda will not laugh at
‘Oh Im a heartless creature’ said Linda She got up and went over to her Mother ‘Your cap is PAGE 110 just a tiny wink crooked Mamma’ said she and she patted it straight with her quick little hands and kissed her Mother ‘A perfect little icicle’ she said and kissed her again
‘You mean you love to think you are’ said Beryl and she blew into her thimble popped it on and drew the white satin dress towards her—and in the silence that followed she had a strange feeling—she felt her anger like a little serpent dart out of her bosom and strike at Linda ‘Why do you always pretend to be so indifferent to everything’ she said ‘You pretend you dont care where you live or if you see anybody or not or what happens to the children or even what happens to you You cant be sincere and yet you keep it up—youve kept it up for years In fact—and she gave a little laugh of joy and relief to be so rid of the serpent she felt positively delighted—‘I cant even remember when it started now Whether it started with Stanley or before Stanleys time or after you had rheumatic fever or when Isabel was born
‘Beryl’ said Mrs Fairfield sharply ‘Thats quite enough quite enough
But Linda jumped up Her cheeks were very white ‘Dont stop her Mother’ she cried ‘Shes got PAGE 111 a perfect right to say whatever she likes Why on earth shouldnt she
‘She has not’ said Mrs Fairfield ‘She has no right whatever
Linda opened her eyes at her Mother ‘What a way to contradict anybody’ she said ‘Im ashamed of you—and how Doady must be enjoying herself The very first time she comes to see us at our new house we sit hitting one another over the head
The door handle rattled and turned Kezia looked tragically in ‘Isnt it ever going to be tea time’ she asked
‘No never’ said Linda
‘Your Mother doesnt care Kezia whether you ever set eyes on her again She doesnt care if you starve You are all going to be sent to the Home for Waifs and Strays tomorrow
‘Dont tease’ said Mrs Fairfield ‘She believes every word’ And she said to Kezia ‘Im coming darling Run upstairs to the bathroom and wash your face your hands and your knees
On the way home with the children Mrs Trout began an entirely new novel It was night Richard was out somewhere He always was on these occasions PAGE 112 She was sitting in the drawingroom by candlelight playing over ‘Solveigs Song’ when Stanley Burnell appeared—hatless—pale At first he could not speak ‘Stanley tell me what is it’ And she put her hands on his shoulders ‘Linda has gone’ he said hoarsely Even Mrs Trouts imagination could not question this flight She had to accept it very quickly and pass on ‘She never cared’ said Stanley ‘God knows I did all I could But she wasnt happy I knew she wasnt happy
‘Mum’ said Rags ‘which would you rather be if you had to—a duck or a fowl
‘Id rather be a fowl—much rather’ said she
The white duck did not look as if it had ever had a head when Alice placed it in front of Stanley Burnell that evening It lay in beautifully basted resignation on the blue dish its legs tied together with a piece of string and a wreath of little balls of stuffing round it It was hard to say which of the two Alice or the duck looked the better basted They were both such a rich colour and they both had the same air of gloss and stain Alice a peony red and the duck a Spanish mahogany Burnell ran his eye along the edge of the carving knife he prided PAGE 113 himself very much upon his carving upon making a firstclass job of it He hated seeing a woman carve they were always too slow and they never seemed to care what the meat looked like after theyd done with it Now he did he really took it seriously—he really took a pride in cutting delicate shaves of beef little slices of mutton just the right thickness and in dividing a chicken or a duck with nice precision so that it could appear a second time and still look a decent member of society
‘Is this one of the home products’ he asked knowing perfectly well that it was
‘Yes dear the butcher didnt come we have discovered that he only comes three times a week
But there wasnt any need to apologise for it it was a superb bird it wasnt meat at all it was a kind of very superior jelly
‘Father would say’ said Burnell ‘that this was one of those birds whose mother must have played to it in infancy upon the German flute and the sweet strains of the dulcet instrument acted with such effect upon the infant mind … Have some more Beryl Beryl you and I are the only people in this house with a real feeling for food—I am PAGE 114 perfectly willing to state in a court of law if the necessity arises that I love good food
Tea was served in the drawingroom after dinner and Beryl who for some reason had been very charming to Stanley ever since he came home suggested he and she should play a game of crib They sat down at a little table near one of the open windows Mrs Fairfield had gone upstairs and Linda lay in a rocking chair her arms above her head—rocking to and fro
‘You dont want the light do you Linda’ said Beryl and she moved the tall lamp to her side so that she sat under its soft light
How remote they looked those two from where Linda watched and rocked The green table the bright polished cards Stanleys big hands and Beryls tiny white ones moving the tapping red and white pegs along the little board seemed all to be part of one mysterious movement Stanley himself sat at ease big and solid in his loose fitting dark suit a look of health and wellbeing about him And there was Beryl in the white and black muslin dress with her bright head bent under the lamplight Round her throat she wore a black velvet ribbon It changed her—altered the shape of her face and throat somehow—but PAGE 115 it was very charming Linda decided The room smelled of lilies There were two big jars of white arums in the fireplace
‘Fifteen two—fifteen four—and a pair is six and a run of three is nine’ said Stanley so deliberately he might have been counting sheep
‘Ive nothing but two pairs’ said Beryl exaggerating her woefulness because she knew how he loved winning
The cribbage pegs were like two little people going up the road together turning round the sharp corner coming down the road again They were pursuing each other They did not so much want to get ahead as to keep near enough to talk—to keep near—perhaps that was all
But no there was one always who was impatient and hopped away as the other came up and wouldnt listen Perhaps one was frightened of the other or perhaps the white one was cruel and did not want to hear and would not even give him a chance to speak
In the bosom of her dress Beryl wore a bunch of black pansies and once just as the little pegs were close side by side as she bent over the pansies dropped out and covered them
‘What a shame to stop them’ said she as she PAGE 116 picked up the pansies ‘just when they had a moment to fly into each others arms
‘Goodbye my girl’ laughed Stanley and away the red peg hopped
The drawingroom was long and narrow with two windows and a glass door that gave on to the verandah It had a cream paper with a pattern of gilt roses and above the white marble mantelpiece was the big mirror in a gilt frame wherein Beryl had seen her drowned reflection A white polarbear skin lay in front of the fireplace and the furniture which had belonged to old Mrs Fairfield was dark and plain A little piano stood against the wall with yellow pleated silk let into the carved back Above it there hung an oil painting by Beryl of a large cluster of surprised looking clematis—for each flower was the size of a small saucer with a centre like an astonished eye fringed in black But the room was not ‘finished’ yet Stanley meant to buy a Chesterfield and two decent chairs and—goodness only knows … Linda liked it best as it was
Two big moths flew in through the window and round and round the circle of lamplight
‘Fly away sillies before it is too late Fly out again
PAGE 117
But no round and round they flew and they seemed to bring the silence of the moonlight in with them on their tiny wings…
‘Ive two kings’ said Stanley ‘Any good
‘Quite good’ said Beryl
Linda stopped rocking and got up Stanley looked across
‘Anything the matter darling’ Perhaps he felt her restlessness
‘No nothing Im going to find Mother
She went out of the room and standing at the foot of the stairs she called ‘Mother’ But Mrs Fairfields voice came across the hall from the verandah
The moon that Lottie and Kezia had seen from the storemans wagon was nearly full and the house the garden old Mrs Fairfield and Linda all were bathed in a dazzling light
‘I have been looking at the aloe’ said Mrs Fairfield ‘I believe it is going to flower this year Wouldnt that be wonderfully lucky Look at the top there All those buds—or is it only an effect of light
As they stood on the steps the high grassy bank on which the aloe rested rose up like a wave and the PAGE 118 aloe seemed to ride upon it like a ship with the oars lifted Bright moonlight hung upon those lifted oars like water and on the green wave glittered the dew
‘Do you feel too’ said Linda and she spoke like her mother with the special voice that women use at night to each other as though they spoke in their sleep or from the bottom of a deep well—‘Dont you feel that it is coming towards us
And she dreamed that she and her mother were caught up on the cold water and into the ship with the lifted oars and the budding mast But now the oars fell striking quickly quickly and they rowed far away over the tops of the garden trees over the paddocks and the dark bush beyond She saw her mother sitting quietly in the boat sunning herself in the moonlight as she expressed it No after all it would be better if her mother did not come for she heard herself cry ‘Faster Faster’ to those who were rowing
How much more natural this dream was than that she should go back to the house where the children lay sleeping and where Stanley and Beryl sat playing cribbage
‘I believe there are buds’ said she ‘Let us go down into the garden Mother I like that aloe I like PAGE 119 it more than anything else here and I am sure I shall remember it long after Ive forgotten all the other things
She put her hand on her mothers arm and they walked down the steps round the island and on to the main drive that led to the front gates
Looking at it from below she could see the long sharp thorns that edged the aloe leaves and at sight of them her heart grew hard She particularly liked the long sharp thorns Nobody would dare to come near her ship or to follow after ‘Not even my Newfoundland dog’ thought she ‘whom Im so fond of in the day time
For she really was fond of him She loved and admired and respected him tremendously and she understood him—Oh better than anybody else in the world She knew him through and through He was the soul of truth and sincerity and for all his practical experience he was awfully simple easily pleased and easily hurt
If only he didnt jump at her so and bark so loudly and thump with his tail and watch her with such eager loving eyes He was too strong for her she always had hated things that rushed at her even when she was a child There were times when he PAGE 120 was frightening—really frightening when she just hadnt screamed at the top of her voice ‘You are killing me’ and when she had longed to say the most coarse hateful things…
‘You know Im very delicate You know as well as I do that my heart is seriously affected and Doctor Dear has told you that I may die at any moment Ive had three great lumps of children already
Yes yes it was true and thinking of it she snatched her hand away from her Mothers arm For all her love and respect and admiration she hated him
It had never been so plain to her as it was at this moment There were all her feelings about Stanley one just as true as the other sharp defined She could have done them up in little packets and there was this other—just as separate as the rest this hatred and yet just as real She wished she could have done them up in little packets and given them to Stanley—especially the last one—she would like to watch him while he opened that …
She hugged her folded arms and began to laugh silently Oh dear Oh dear How absurd it all was It really was funny—simply funny And the idea of her hating Stanley she could see his astonishment if PAGE 121 she had cried out or given him the packet was funniest of all Yes it was perfectly true what Beryl had said that afternoon—she didnt care for anything But it wasnt a pose Beryl was wrong there—she laughed because she couldnt help laughing…
And why this mania to keep alive For it really was mania ‘What am I guarding myself so preciously for’ she thought mocking and silently laughing ‘I shall go on having children and Stanley will go on making money and the children and the houses will grow bigger and bigger with larger and larger gardens—and whole fleets of aloe trees in them for me to choose from…’ Why this mania to keep alive indeed In the bottom of her heart she knew that now she was not being perfectly sincere She had a reason but she couldnt express it—no not even to herself
She had been walking with her head bent looking at nothing now she looked up and about her Her mother and she were standing by the red and white camellia trees Beautiful were the rich dark leaves spangled with light and the round flowers that perched among the leaves like red and white birds Linda pulled a piece of verbena and crumbled it and held up the cup of her hands to her mother
PAGE 122
‘Delicious’ said Mrs Fairfield bending over to smell ‘Are you cold child Are you trembling Yes your hands are cold We had better go back to the house
‘What have you been thinking of’ said Linda ‘Tell me
But Mrs Fairfield said ‘I havent really been thinking of anything at all I wondered as we passed the orchard what the fruit trees were like and whether we should be able to make much jam this autumn There are splendid blackcurrant and gooseberry bushes in the vegetable garden I noticed them today I should like to see the pantry shelves thoroughly well stocked with our own jam…
At this point in the manuscript the following note occurs
This is a strange fact about Madame Allègre She walks very well—quite beautifully I saw her just now go down to the bottom of the garden with a pail in one hand and a basket in the other
Prepare charcoal fire every night before turning in Then one has only to go down put a match to it and stick on the funnel and its ready by the time youre dressed How clever
I must break through again I feel so anxious and so worried about the Sardinia that I cant write What I have
TheSardiniawas the P O liner in which Katherines sister was returning from India at the moment of the intensified submarine campaign of Germany
PAGE 123 done seems to me to be awfully impossibly good compared to the Stuff I wrote yesterday I believe if I had another shock —if for instance Mlle Marthe turned up I might manage but at present je veux mourir I ought to write a letter from Beryl to Nan Fry
This is all too laborious
‘My Darling Nan
‘Dont think me a piggywig because I havent written before I havent had a moment dear and even now I feel so exhausted that I can hardly hold a pen
‘Well the dreadful deed is done We have actually left the giddy whirl of town and I cant see how we shall ever go back again for my brotherinlaw has bought this house “lock stock and barrel” to use his own words’
‘In a way its an awful relief for hes been threatening to take a place in the country ever since Ive lived with them—and I must say the house and garden are awfully nice—a million times better than that dreadful cubby hole in town
‘But buried my dear Buried isnt the word
‘We have got neighbours but theyre only farmers—big louts of boys who always seem to be milking and two dreadful females with protruding teeth who came over when we were moving and brought us some scones and said they were sure theyd be very willing to help My sister who lives
For Mlle Marthe see “Letters” Vol I pp 55 and 61
PAGE 124 a mile away says she doesnt really know a soul here so Im sure we never never shall and Im certain nobody will ever come out from town to see us because though there is a ‘bus its an awful old rattling thing with black leather sides that any decent person would rather die than ride in for six miles
‘Such is life Its a sad ending for poor little B Ill get to be a most frightful frump in a year or two and come and see you in a mackintosh with a sailor hat tied on with a white China silk motor veil
‘Stanley says that now were settled—for after the most ghastly fortnight of my life we really are settled—he is going to bring out a couple of men from the club each week for tennis on Saturday afternoons In fact two are promised us as a GREAT TREAT today But my dear if you could see Stanleys men from the club … rather fattish the type who look frightfully indecent without waistcoats—always with toes that turn in rather—so conspicuous too when youre walking about a tennis court in white shoes—and pulling up their trousers every minute—dont you know—and whacking at imaginary things with their racquets
‘I used to play with them at the Club Court last summer and Im sure youll know the type when I tell you that after Id been there about three times they all called me Miss Beryl Its a weary world Of course Mother simply loves this place but then when I am Mothers age I suppose I PAGE 125 shall be quite content to sit in the sun and shell peas into a basin But Im not—not—not
‘What Linda really thinks about the whole affair per usual I havent the slightest idea She is as mysterious as ever…
‘My dear you know that white satin dress of mine Ive taken the sleeves out entirely put straps of black velvet across the shoulders and two big red poppies out of my dear sisters chapeau Its a great success though when I shall wear it I do not know…
Beryl sat writing this letter at a little table in front of the window in her room In a way of course it was all perfectly true but in another way it was all the greatest rubbish and she didnt mean a word of it No that wasnt right She felt all those things but she didnt really feel them like that The Beryl who wrote that letter might have been leaning over her shoulder and guiding her hand—so separate was she and yet in a way perhaps she was more real than the other the real Beryl She had been getting stronger and stronger for a long while
There had been a time when the real Beryl had just made use of the false one to get her out of awkward positions—to glide her over hateful moments—to help her to bear the stupid ugly PAGE 126 sometimes beastly things that happened She had as it were called to the unreal Beryl and seen her coming and seen her going away again quite definitely and simply But that was long ago The unreal Beryl was greedy and jealous of the real one Gradually she took more and stayed longer Gradually she came more quickly and now the real Beryl was hardly certain sometimes if she were there or not
Days weeks at a time passed without her ever for a moment ceasing to act a part for that was really what it came to and then quite suddenly when the unreal self had forced her to do something she did not want to do at all she had come into her own again and for the first time realised what had been happening
Perhaps it was because she was not leading the life that she wanted to—she had not a chance to really express herself—she was always living below her power and therefore she had no need of her real self her real self only made her wretched
At this point in the manuscript the following note occurs
What is it that Im getting at It is really Beryls Sosie The fact that for a long time now she hasnt been even able to control her second self its her second self who now controls her… There was a kind of radiant being who wasnt either spiteful or malicious of whom shed had a glimpse—whose very PAGE 127 voice was different to hers—who was grave—who never would have dreamed of doing the things that she did Had she banished this being or had it really got simply tired and left her I want to get at all this through her just as I got at Linda through Linda To suddenly merge her into herself
In a way of course it was all perfectly true but in another way it was all the greatest rubbish and she didnt believe a word of it No that wasnt right she felt all those things but she didnt really feel them like that
It was her other self whose slave or whose mistress she was—which who had written that letter It not only bored—it rather disgusted her real self
‘Flippant and silly’ said her real self yet she knew shed send it and that shed always write that kind of twaddle to Nan Fry In fact it was a very mild example of the kind of letter she generally wrote
Beryl leaned her elbows on the table and read it through again—the voice of the letter seemed to come up to her from the page—faint already like a voice heard over a telephone wire high gushing with something bitter in the sound Oh she detested it today
‘Youve always got so much animation’ said Nan Fry ‘Thats why men are so keen on you PAGE 128 And she had added rather mournfully for men werent keen on Nan—she was a solid kind of girl with fat hips and a high colour ‘I cant understand how you keep it up but its your nature I suppose
What rot What nonsense It wasnt her nature at all Good Heavens If shed ever been her real self with Nan Fry Nannie would have jumped out of the window with surprise ‘My dear you know that white satin dress of mine—Ugh Beryl slammed her lettercase to
She jumped up and half consciously half unconsciously she drifted over to the looking glass There stood a slim girl dressed in white—a short white serge skirt a white silk blouse and a white leather belt drawn in tight round her tiny waist She had a heartshaped face wide at the brows and with a pointed chin—but not too pointed… Her eyes her eyes were perhaps her best feature such a strange uncommon colour too greeny blue with little gold spots in them
She had fine black eyebrows and long black lashes—so long that when they lay on her cheeks they positively caught the light someone or other had told her
Her mouth was rather large—too large No PAGE 129 not really Her underlip protruded a little She had a way of sucking it in that somebody else had told her was awfully fascinating
Her nose was her least satisfactory feature Not that it was really ugly—but it wasnt half as fine as Lindas Linda really had a perfect little nose Hers spread rather—not badly—and in all probability she exaggerated the spreadness of it just because it was her nose and she was so awfully critical of herself She pinched it with her thumb and second finger and made a little face
Lovely long hair And such masses of it It was the colour of fresh fallen leaves brown and red with a glint of yellow Almost it seemed to have a life of its own it was so warm and there was such a deep ripple in it When she plaited it in one thick plait it hung on her back just like a long snake She loved to feel the weight of it drag her head back she loved to feel it loose covering her bare arms
It had been the fashion among the girls at Miss Birchs to brush Beryls hair ‘Do do let me brush your hair darling Beryl’ But nobody brushed it as beautifully as Nan Fry Beryl would sit in front of the dressing table in her cubicle wearing a white linen wrapper and behind her stood Nannie in a PAGE 130 dark red woollen gown buttoned up to her chin Two candles gave a pointing flickering light
Her hair streamed over the chair back She shook it out she yielded it up to Nannies adoring hands In the glass Nannies face above the dark gown was like a round sleeping mask Slowly she brushed with long caressing strokes Her hand and the brush were like one thing upon the warm hair She would say with a kind of moaning passion laying down the brush and looping the hair in her hands ‘Its more beautiful than ever B It really is lovelier than last time’ And then she would brush again She seemed to send herself to sleep with the movement and the gentle sound—she had something of the look of a blind cat as though it were she who was being stroked and not Beryl
But nearly always these brushings came to an unpleasant ending Nannie did something silly Quite suddenly she would snatch up Beryls hair and bury her face in it and kiss it or clasp her hands round Beryls head and press it back against her firm breast sobbing ‘You are so beautiful You dont know how beautiful you are—beautiful beautiful
And at these moments Beryl had such a feeling of horror such a violent thrill of physical dislike for PAGE 131 Nan Fry ‘Thats enough Thats quite enough Thank you Youve brushed it beautifully Goodnight Nan’ She didnt even try to suppress her contempt and her disgust… And the curious thing was that Nan Fry seemed to understand this even to expect it never protesting but stumbling away out of the cubicle and perhaps whispering ‘Forgive me’ at the door And the more curious thing was that Beryl let her brush her hair again and let this happen again … and again there was this silly scene between them always ending in the same way more or less and never never referred to in the day time
But she did brush hair so beautifully
Was her hair less bright now No not a bit
At this point in the manuscript the following note occurs
ROBIN SENDS TO BERYL—
Lives like logs of driftwood
Tossed on a watery main
Other logs encounter
Drift touch part again
And so it is with our lives
On lifes tempestuous sea
We meet we greet we sever
Drifting eternally…
‘Yes my dear theres no denying it you really are a lovely little thing
PAGE 132
At the words her breast lifted she took a long breath smiling with delight and half closing her eyes as if she held a sweet sweet bouquet up to her face—a fragrance that made her faint
But even as she looked the smile faded from her lips and eyes—and oh God there she was back again playing the same old game False false as ever False as when shed written to Nan Fry False even when she was alone with herself now
What had that creature in the glass to do with her really and why on earth was she staring at her She dropped down by the side of her bed and buried her head in her arms
‘Oh’ she said ‘Im so miserable so frightfully miserable I know Im silly and spiteful and vain Im always acting a part Im never my real self for a minute’ And plainly plainly she saw her false self running up and down the stairs laughing a special trilling laugh if they had visitors standing under the lamp if a man came to dinner so that he should see how the light shone on her hair pouting and pretending to be a little girl when anybody asked her to play the guitar Why she even kept it up for Stanleys benefit Only last night when he was reading the paper she had stood beside him and leaned PAGE 133 against his shoulder on purpose and she had put her hand over his pointing out something and said at the same time ‘Heavens Stanley how brown your hands are’ only that he should notice how white hers were
How despicable Her heart grew cold with rage
‘Its marvellous how you keep it up’ she had said to her false self But then it was only because she was so miserable—so miserable If shed been happy—if shed been living her own life all this false life would simply cease to be And now she saw the real Beryl a radiant shadow … a shadow… Faint and unsubstantial shone the real self What was there of her except that radiance And for what tiny moments she was really she Beryl could almost remember every one of them… She did not mean that she was exactly happy then it was a feeling that overwhelmed her at certain times … certain nights when the wind blew with a forlorn cry and she lay cold in her bed wakeful and listening … certain lovely evenings when she passed down a road where there were houses and big gardens and the sound of a piano came from one of the houses And then certain Sunday nights in Church when the gas flickered and the pews were shadowy and the lines of the hymns were almost too sweet and sad to bear … PAGE 134 and rare rare times rarest of all when it was not the voice of outside things that had moved her so—she remembered one of them when she had sat up one night with Linda Linda was very ill She had watched the pale dawn come in through the blinds and she had seen Linda lying propped up high with pillows her arms outside the quilt and the shadow of her hair dusky against the white And at all these times she had felt ‘Life is wonderful—life is rich and mysterious But it is good too and I am rich and mysterious and good’ Perhaps that is what she might have said … but she did not say those things Then she knew her false self was quite quite gone and she longed to be always as she was just at that moment to become that Beryl for ever… ‘Shall I How can I And did I ever not have a false self
But just when she had got that far she heard the sound of wheels coming up the drive and little steps running along the passage to her room and Kezias voice calling
‘Aunt Beryl Aunt Beryl
She got up Botheration How she had crumpled her skirt Kezia burst in
‘Aunt Beryl Mother says will you please come down because Fathers home and lunch is ready
PAGE 135
‘Very well Kezia’ She went over to the dressing table and powdered her nose
Kezia crossed over too and unscrewed a little pot of cream and sniffed it Under her arm Kezia carried a very dirty calico cat
When Aunt Beryl had run out of the room she sat the cat up on the dressing table and stuck the top of the cream jar over one of its ears
‘Now look at yourself’ said she sternly
The calico cat was so appalled at the effect that it toppled backwards and bumped and bounced on the floor and the top of the cream jar flew through the air and rolled like a penny in a round on the linoleum—and did not break
But for Kezia it had broken the moment it flew through the air and she picked it up hot all over put it on the dressing table and walked away far too quickly and airily