the maltese angel (37 page)

"Yes. Yes, Carl." She did not look up at him.

"It's a girl."

"I ... I thought it had; the master's gone striding out of the gate."

But she made no reply to this implication; and Carl was already bending over her and looking down into the basket and saying softly, "She looks canny, but small."

"Yes. Yes, she's very small."

"She's whole?"

"Yes. Yes, Carl, she's quite whole."

"Good."

"Carl."

"Yes, Miss Jessie?"

She had her face turned up to his.

"How ... how does one feed a baby when ... when the mother won't have it?"

"She won't have it?"

"No; she screamed at the sight of it."

"Oh, dear, dear. Well, miss, it's er ... I think they use pap bags."

"Pap bags?"

"Yes. You just fold some linen' he demonstrated now as if he was folding the linen round his finger 'into about that thickness, you see, and tie it at one end. Then keep dipping it into the milk."

Is that all? "

"That's all for a time, until you can get a bottle. You can buy bottles now with, sort of, well, teats on the end, you know."

She didn't know, but she nodded.

"How ... how soon can you get a bottle?"

"Oh, I'd have to go into town,-to a chemist's shop."

"Would ... would you get one today?"

"Aye. Yes. As soon as the chores are underway I'll get me self off."

"Thank you, Carl."

He slowly straightened up but remained looking down on her. A small fist had appeared over the edge of the blanket and was grabbing at the air; and when Jessie put her finger towards it, it was held, and after a moment she turned and looked up at him. Her eyes were bright with tears and her voice breaking: "She's sweet, isn't she?" she said. He nodded at her, saying in a low tone, "Yes. Yes she is," while a wave of pity swept over him, not for the child but strangely for her, and even more strangely still he was wishing at this moment that things could have been different, for she looked so lost. And his feeling deepened as he said, "You're going to have your hands full." And she replied, "I don't mind, Carl. I don't mind in the least. I'll take full responsibility for her. And ... and she'll give me an interest.

Well, I mean' she glanced up at him 'one must have something in life and she'll be my something. "

He nodded, then stepped back from her and went quickly out of the

kitchen. And when she turned her head towards the door she closed her eyes tightly for a moment and wondered why the old feeling for him should return at this moment in particular, when before

her there stretched a life of service to this child, which would mean rearing her, protecting her, guarding her, not only from outsiders but from this house, where neither her mother nor her grandfather would own her presence.

Part Three The long cortege that had followed the last remains of

Colonel Ramsmore to the cemetery on this bleak November day had

dispersed, as too had those close friends of the family who had

returned to the Hall for a warm drink and a light meal. And now, in the drawing-room, there remained only the sparse family, consisting of Lady Lydia's eldest step-son, Beverly, a man of sixty who had recently retired from the Army, and her own son Gerald, now twenty-nine years old, who had returned to his family home a week ago after a nine-year absence.

At this moment it was as if Colonel Beverly Ramsmore could contain himself no longer for, after draining his wine glass, he thrust it none too gently on to a side table;

then rising to his feet he confronted his half-brother and, using the same tone as he might have done when speaking to a subordinate, he said to him, "Am I to believe what your mother tells me, that if war did break out, and it is looming strongly on the horizon, let me tell you, you would not even enlist? I could never understand you turning down the Army; but not to stand up and fight for your country, should it need you, is to me atrocious, and coming from a member of this family

... well, it simply astonishes me. We are an army family, have been for generations on both sides until' he now pulled at his short

moustache before ending 'you came on the scene."

"Beverly!" Although Lady Lydia's voice was firm there was a tired note in it, and he turned to her now, saying, "It's no use, Lydia, someone's got to speak out and tell him what we all think."

"Beverly, I have already told you, you can save your breath."

At this point Gerald put in, lightly, "Yes; why don't you take Mama's advice and stop wasting your breath? Because you're getting short of it, you know."

The portly figure swung round to where Gerald was lounging in a deep armchair and looking so utterly relaxed, and this seemed to infuriate the older man for now he blustered, "You delight, don't you, in being different? But I'll put another name to you: you're a coward, a rank coward, have been since you were a little chap," and then was utterly startled by the springing up of the reclining body, for Gerald was now standing within a foot of him and his finger was daring to stab into his chest as he cried, "Yes! I'm cowardly enough not to go and shoot natives; I'm cowardly enough not to play God and laud it over men, those who in many cases have more brains and intelligence than either you or any other of your kind possesses. Yet you treat them as scum of the earth, cannon fodder. And I'll answer your question. Yes, I know there's every sign of a war coming. But do you know why? Do you read history? In fact, have you ever read anything in your life but army rules and regulations?"

When his hand was slapped hard down it did not silence his tongue, for now he went on, "Greed! Greed! That's what makes war: the French and Germans at each other's throats to gain control of coal and iron; and the Russians, their greedy eyes on the Balkans; everybody out to take something from someone else. And what about our dear country? Oh, we only want to gobble up the whole bloody world."

Gerald,!

"Oh, let him go on, Lydia, let him go on. I've heard it all before from the ranters, the soap box politicians, the shirkers. You should amalgamate with the suffragettes."

"Even your sarcasm is weak, Beverly, and as far back as I can remember, which is from when I was five years old, you've never had an original thought in your head. It's to be hoped, for their sake, that your sons take after their mother, who, I recall, had a lively mind. Do you know something, Beverly? Neil and I are about the same age, I think he is probably a year older, but I know he was about sixteen when he said to me that he didn't want to go into the Army but that he was destined for it, just as Roger was, because Daddy was adamant. Do you know what he wanted to be? A farmer.

But, of course, as he said, Daddy was adamant. "

He stepped back now and his lip curled when he said quietly, "Daddy will be very proud of them if war comes and they are both shot to

smithereens or bayoneted through the belly." And with this he turned and stamped from the room.

With the banging of the door Lady Lydia closed her eyes tightly, and when the irate soldier demanded, "Why on earth have you asked him to stay here?" her eyes opened wide and she exclaimed in a tone so like his own, "Because someone must see to the place, the little that is left of it. And you, my dear Beverly, have made it plain you have no intention of leaving Hampshire and bringing your family to settle in this house. As you pointed out, what prospects would there be here for your grandchildren? And of course, there's your London clubs. And

while I'm speaking plainly, I'm going to say that during the last four years you have been stationed at home, you have thought to come and see your father but once, to my knowledge ... once. There is an excuse for your brothers, Arthur and William, they being stationed in India. Yet even they, on their leaves, came and went as if there were a plague attached to the house. It wasn't like that in their young days, when the place was running with servants to answer their beck and call. But when money ran out, yes, I will say this: that was helped considerably in seeing to your three careers and your generous allowances. The

money flowed over all of you and your new families.

But when

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my son needed an education, a cottage and a piece of land had to be sold, and his meagre allowance ended abruptly when he was barely

twenty, as did his university education, for the simple reason he had the courage .. and I object strongly, Beverly, to your daring to put the name 'coward' to him. I couldn't see you standing up in public defending a man who had been wronged, as my son did, and refuse to be silenced by his father and was therefore made to suffer for it. " Her voice now sank as she ended, " There are different kinds of courage, and I may tell you my son has a great store of the right kind. And that's my opinion, and no matter what happens in the future, should he refuse to fight for his country, as he undoubtedly will, I shall stand by him. And you can convey that to your brothers. " And at this she pulled herself up from the couch and she, too, marched from the room.

They were walking up the weed-strewn path between the overgrown

ornamental borders. They had been walking in silence for some time, seeming to be aware only of their breath visible in the cold air, when suddenly he said, "It's a mess, isn't it?" And she answered, "Yes, and has been for some time. But what can one man do? McNamara achieves miracles in his own way. I'm really amazed at times that he stays

on.

But he's very loyal. He came into the yard when you were about twelve, remember? He was fourteen at the time. It's a good job he never

married else we should surely have lost him. One has to be thankful for his odd eye, in a way. " She turned, her chin moving over the rim of her high collar, and smiled at him, and he answered, " He was always a good chap. "

She now thrust her arm into his, exclaiming, "Oh! I'm so glad you're going to stay, Gerald. I'm so grateful."

"It works both ways. Mama.

Believe me it does. "

"But I thought you liked London and being in a publishing house, and

...?"

"Yes. Yes, I did; and honestly I'm going to miss it, not so much the work but the atmosphere of the place, those pokey little rooms. Mr.

Herbert and Mr. Darrington. I'll always see them at their desks,

practically back to back, surrounded by papers. Very odd, you know."

He nodded at her.

"It never seemed to me that they were actually reading books, checking books."

"Well, that was your job, wasn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose so; but not until I'd, been there ... oh, three years.

I was the dogs body at first and glad, let me tell you, to be any kind of a body in a job where my main work was to read. But oh, some of those manuscripts. It seemed to me at times that the whole country was writing, yet more than half of them had never learned to write." He paused now and said, "And some of their accompanying letters were pathetic: will you please publish my book because I need the money. And it would likely be a love story full of fantasy; or as sometimes

happened, a record of an awful childhood or marriage." He looked down at her as he said, "I received an education there, Mama, that showed me a way of life that we, as a whole, know nothing about.

And not only working for those two dear, old-fashioned gentlemen, and Mr. Herbert and Mr. Darrington were indeed gentlemen and very

particular about what they published; but at the same time they were from another world. Sometimes, I'm sure, they weren't aware of either Ronald or me . you know, Ronald Pearson, whom I told you about; they didn't know we were there. At other times, when they were aware, they would bawl the place down. Poor Ronald. When Mr. Darrington called for him he would shout, "Peasant! here." And they would treat him as a peasant.

One day they accidentally heard him referring to them as "Hell and Damnation" You see Herbert and Darrington were on their way out to lunch, and I couldn't shut him up for I was holding the door open for them, and I watched them turn away, both their faces showing surprise and amusement. And from then

3i3

j until we left the office at six o'clock I couldn't convince him

other than he was in for the sack. "

They were now walking through the just-as-tangled flower garden and somewhat dolefully she said, "You'll miss it all; and that funny lodging house where you were." And he answered, "Yes, I suppose so for a time;

not the surroundings so much but the people, because they were so

different. Especially the Cramps. Oh yes' he was smiling broadly

'especially the Cramps. "

"How on earth did you come to take lodgings in the East End of London?

I mean, when you left, you had enough money to go to an hotel or, as I told you, to Beverly's cousin. He didn't like Beverly and I felt he would take to you. "

"For how long, Mama? Anyway, with the money you gave me and the bit I had saved I knew I could last out only about a month, and so I had to find cheap lodgings. Thankfully I found Mrs. Cramp, or at least she found me ... looking in a shop window where there were rooms advertised to rent." He pulled a face.

"Erb ... Mr. Herbert Cramp and our Doug, Mr. Douglas Cramp, and oh yes, little Glad, who was then really little but is now seventeen, and you could say from that day I was, in a way, happy ever after."

"Oh, Gerald, you make the comparison sound as if your life here had been terrible."

"I'm sorry, Mama, but they were such different people from those I'd been used to, so honest, so open and' he now pulled a face at her 'so wily, so crafty. The men, Mr. Herbert worked in Covent Garden, had done since he was a boy, and Douglas followed in his father's

footsteps. They also had a barrow on the side. Oh, the things I

learned about commerce, you wouldn't believe. But what I enjoyed most was the house and the evenings spent there. It was a ramshackle place, dropping to bits in parts. It had originally been the home of some businessman or other, I should imagine, just as many others were in that quarter. Anyway, it had four habitable bedrooms and an attic. I had the attic. Oh ... oh," he emphasised now, 'from choice, for the attic space covered half the house and my books could sprawl all over the place and nobody bothered, least of all Mrs. B .. Bertha was her name. You know.