Coming Home (39 page)

‘Did you tell Mrs Forrester?’

‘No.’ Judith shook her head. ‘I couldn't.’

‘I don't think I could have told her either, had I been you. It's a very difficult situation.’ She smiled, somehow masking her inner fury at the whole tiresome, distasteful world of dirty old men. She said, ‘At Cambridge, we used to call them gropers or garter-snappers.’

Judith's eyes widened. ‘You mean…you mean, it happened to
you
?’

‘All young female undergraduates were considered fair game. We swiftly learned avoiding tactics, and developed our own defences. Of course, there were a lot of us girls, safety in numbers, and the comfort of confidantes. But you didn't have that reassurance, so it must have been very much worse for you.’

‘I didn't know what to do.’

‘I don't suppose you did.’

‘I don't
think
she would have married him, but once the idea got into my head, I couldn't get rid of it. It was always there. I didn't know what to do.’

‘Well, that is something you don't have to worry about any more. In a very drastic and tragic way, your problem has been solved. They always say that some good comes out of every situation, however devastating. And what a good thing you've told me. Now, you can get the whole sorry affair in perspective.’

‘If we go to the funeral, I expect he'll be there.’

‘I have no doubt that he will. And you shall point him out to me. You shall say, “There is Colonel Fawcett,” and I shall have the pleasure of hitting him over the head with my umbrella.’

‘Will you
really
?’

‘Probably not. Imagine the headlines in the
Western Morning News.
“Local Headmistress Attacks Retired Colonel.” It wouldn't do much good for St Ursula's, would it?’ Not much of a joke but, for the first time, she saw Judith, spontaneously, smile and then laugh. ‘That's better. Now’ — she looked at her watch — ‘you must be off and I must get on with all I have to do. It's just about time for games. I expect you'd like to have a little chat with Loveday. I'll get Deirdre to tell Miss Fanshaw that you're both excused hockey, so that you can be together for a bit. Take a walk round the grounds, or go and climb a tree or sit in the sun-trap. You'll feel better when you've talked it all over with Loveday.’

‘I shan't tell her about Colonal Fawcett.’

‘No. I think we shall keep that to ourselves.’ She rose from her chair, and Judith, instantly, got to her feet. ‘Now, it's over. I am so sorry about your aunt, but you have taken it well. And you are not to fret about your future, because that is my responsibility. All I can do is assure you that you are in safe hands.’

‘Yes, Miss Catto. And thank you. And thank you for the tea.’

‘Off you go then…’ But as Judith went through the door, she reverted. She was the Headmistress again. ‘…remember not to run in the corridor.’

Saturday, 28th March.

Engineer Captain's House

Keyham Terrace

Keyham

Plymouth.

My dear, poor Judith,

Just had a long telephone call with nice Miss Catto, who sounds dear and sympathetic. My darling, I am shattered for you, what a perfectly ghastly thing to happen to poor Louise; I always knew she drove like a Jehu but somehow never imagined anything would come of it. She always seemed to me to be indestructible, and although I was never very kind about her, I know that she was a good sort, despite her sometimes cutting tongue. Miss C. tells me that your parents have been informed, and that she's writing to your mother. Also asked if Bob and I could field for you Easter hols. Darling, I can't think of anything we'd like more, but we're devilled with problems. Your grandparents have both been ill, and I've been trying to keep an eye on them. As well, looking for a house in Devon to buy so that we can have some sort of permanency in our lives. Think I've found one, but it's going to need rebuilding before we can take possession. Finally, Uncle Bob leaves Keyham in June, and is joining HMS
Resolve
based at Invergordon on the Cromarty Firth, about a thousand miles in the far north. Nothing but rain and kilts and sporrans. It is not a shore job, so I shall have to go and look for yet another house, to rent this time, so that I can be with him.

You'll gather from all this gabbling that I think we won't be able to have you for the Easter holidays, but by summer we should be more or less established, and please, please, come to us then. Miss Catto assures me that she'll see you are cared for, and she sounds so sensible that I shan't worry about you, but just look foward enormously to seeing you in the summer.

Dear pet, I am so sorry this has happened. Let me know when the funeral takes place, not that there is much likelihood that I shall be able to be present. My father is ill again, and my mother struggling to take care of him. Cries for help come all the time, so I must try to find some sort of a resident housekeeper to keep an eye on the old pair.

Uncle Bob joins me in sending our love. He says keep your chin up.

Always kisses,

Aunt Biddy

Sunday, 5th April.

Dear Mummy and Dad,

I know that you have got telegrams and that Miss Catto and Mr Baines are both writing to you. It was dreadfully sad about Aunt Louise and I shall miss her very much, because she was so kind to me. I was homesick for you all when I first went to Windyridge for the half-term, but I very soon stopped because Aunt Louise was very good about everything and didn't fuss at me. I know she was a terrible driver, but Miss Catto said that the accident wasn't her fault, because this truck had been abandoned just over the brow of the hill, and she hit it.

As for me, please don't worry. I could have gone to Aunt Biddy for the Easter holidays, but she is very occupied just now with a new house which she has bought, and Grandfather Evans being ill. But I am sure that I could stay with the Warrens in Porthkerris for a bit, and Miss Catto has even mentioned going to Oxford to stay in the big house where her parents live. I would quite like that, because Miss Catto thinks I might do well enough in exams to get a place at Oxford University, so it would be interesting to see the town. And then I can go to Aunt Biddy in the summer.

I am so sorry for Edna and Hilda, but perhaps they will find another job where they can be together. It was horrible being told about Aunt Louise because a car smash is such a violent thing, and she wasn't very old. Miss Catto says that death is part of life, but even so you don't want death to happen quite so quickly.

The funeral was last Thursday. Miss Catto said I didn't need to go if I didn't want to, but I thought I'd better. I wore uniform and Matron made me a black armband for mourning. Miss Catto said that she would take me, but Mr Baines came in his car and took both of us. He was very nice to us both and I sat in the front beside him. The service was in Penmarron Church and there were lots of people there, a lot of whom I didn't know. But we arrived just at the same time as the Warrens, and Mrs Warren gave me a huge hug and introduced herself to Miss Catto, and said that any time I wanted, I could go and spend holidays with them. Wasn't that really kind of her?

In church, we sang ‘The Day Thou Gavest, Lord, Is Ended’, and there were a great many flowers everywhere. The vicar said nice things about Aunt Louise. Hilda and Edna sat just behind us and cried, but their cousin was there with his motor car, and he took them away when the service was over. They were both in black and looked dreadfully miserable.

After the service, we all went out after the coffin. It was a very cold day, but a blue sky and a cold north wind blowing in from the sea. In the churchyard, all the grass on the top of the walls was blowing sideways and you could smell the sea and hear the rollers. I am glad it wasn't raining.

It was terrible seeing the coffin go down into the hole and knowing that Aunt Louise was in it. The vicar gave me some earth and I threw it in, and Miss Catto threw in a bunch of primroses and Mr Baines a rose, which I thought was nice of him. He must have known how much Aunt Louise liked roses. It wasn't until that moment that I realised that she was really dead for ever. Then we all said goodbye to everybody and came back to Penzance and Mr Baines took Miss Catto and me out to lunch at The Mitre, but I kept thinking of the day we had lunch there, Mummy, and missed you and wished you had been there.

Most of the village people were there, and I spoke to Mrs Berry and Mrs Southey. Mrs Southey gave me a rather whiskery kiss.

Here, Judith became a bit stuck. Memories of the funeral were blurry. Other faces had swum into her vision from time to time, but it was hard to put names to them. Billy Fawcett had been there, but she didn't even want to write his name. She had spied him, at the end of the service, as she stepped out into the aisle with Miss Catto behind her, and made her way out towards the main door. He was standing at the very back of the church. She saw him, and he was looking at her, and with a new courage, bolstered by the presence of her headmistress, she met his eye and stared him down. He turned away, but before he did this, she saw on his face an expression of pure hatred, directed at herself. The bolted doors of Windyridge were not forgotten, and his own humiliating defeat unforgiven. She did not care. In the churchyard, he was not amongst the mourners at the graveside. Offended and truculent, he had already taken himself off, and for this small mercy Judith felt grateful. But his was a recurring spectre, still haunting her dreams. Perhaps, with no Aunt Louise to keep an eye on him, keep him company, and pour free whisky down his thirsty throat, he would chuck his hand in, leave Cornwall, and go and find somewhere else to spend his twilight years. Scotland perhaps. There were lots of golf courses in Scotland. She wished he would go and live in Scotland, and then she would never, ever have to see him again. But then he probably didn't
know
anybody in Scotland; in truth, he was so horrible, she couldn't imagine him having a single friend anywhere. So, in all likelihood he would stay just where he was, dug in to his rented bungalow, haunting the club house in Penmarron like a lost dog, and from time to time driving himself to the shops of Porthkerris in order to stock up on the necessities of life. He would always be around, and she had the sense to realise that she would never be totally free of him until the day when he turned up his toes and died. Shivering in the graveyard wind, she found time to wish that it was
he
they were about to inter forever in his grave, and not Aunt Louise. It was all so dreadfully unfair. Why should Aunt Louise be snatched away to eternity while still in the prime of her useful and busy existence, while that gruesome old groper lived on, spared to go about his horrid business?

Unseemly reflections for such a sad and overwhelming occasion. But then she spied Mr Willis, and was so grateful to see him there, that she put Billy Fawcett out of her mind. Mr Willis stood respectfully a little way off, shy of intruding into anybody's private sorrow. Shaved and scrubbed, he wore a shiny blue suit with straining buttons, and a collar that looked as though it were about to choke him. He carried his bowler hat, and Judith, who had remained dry-eyed all through the service, was touched to tears by the obvious trouble to which he had gone. Before going from the churchyard, she left Miss Catto and Mr Baines, who were having a few words with the vicar, and made her way across the tufty grass between the ancient headstones to greet her old friend.