Charles Palliser (19 page)

“A thousand pounds! Do you think, Mamma, that we should? After all, Mr Sancious says there is a risk?”

“But he will be very hurt if I don’t, since he has gone to so much trouble on our behalf.”

“That’s so. But I know! Let him have three hundred pounds.”

“Yes, perhaps that’s best. That’s still a great deal of money so he can’t be too offended.”

“And twice that is six hundred!”

“Very well. I will write him to say that. I am glad that I asked you. You are clever.” She flung her arms round me: “And soon we will have nothing more to worry about. Six hundred pounds! And it may be even more than that! This is a great day. We must celebrate. I know: I will make negus!”

The prospect of this wonderful undertaking, which was carried out only on the most special occasions, excited me because of what it signified and not because I liked the final result — though since my mother always assured me that one day I would, I always expected that this momentous event would happen very suddenly. When she had run into the kitchen and returned with the hot water and other ingredients, she stirred in the sugar, lemon, cinnamon, sherry and one or two other things as we talked about how Mr Sancious’ foresight meant that I would be able to go to a good school and enter a proper profession. Then we toasted each other (I with a quarter of a tumbler) in the hot liquid that was so sweet yet bitter.

“I still don’t like it,” I said. “What’s that nasty taste?”

My mother laughed. Then she said gravely: “Now I must face Bissett.” She poured herself another tumbler and said: “Will you ask her to come, Johnnie?”

“Are you going to give her notice? That would save a great deal of money.”

“Well,” my mother said rather anxiously, “she might choose to leave.”

I ran into the kitchen where I found Bissett standing, red-faced and arms akimbo, in the middle of an exchange of words with Sukey who sat on a chair before the hearth sobbing into her apron.

I gave Bissett my mother’s message, and when she had left the room I said cautiously:

“Can I do anything to help, Sukey?”

She looked at me, sniffed, and said: “Will you play at the cards with me?”

“I’m forbidden to game,” I said sadly.

“It ain’t them sort,” she said, pulling from her pocket a pack of greasy cards SPECULATIONS

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whose designs, as I saw when she spread them on the table, were quite strange.

“They’re for tellin’ of fortins.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t forbidden me,” I said.

So she plied the cards in the hope of comforting herself with brighter visions of the future, but however often she tried to get a better fortune, the cards persisted in foreseeing only the direst calamities. She was deeply down-cast by what she called her ill luck, and though I tried to raise her spirits by telling her that she could avert the worst now that she had been forewarned, she insisted that it was not like that for coming events were fixed. We were so preoccupied that although we were listening out for her step, we didn’t hear Bissett before she had opened the door. She looked at the cards strewn on the table with repugnance but to my surprise she merely muttered “More heathenish tricks” and turned away.

I returned to the sitting-room where I found my mother sitting on the sopha and looking rather pale.

“Well, is she going to leave?” I asked.

“Don’t speak like that, Johnnie,” she said slowly. “I believe she must be much fonder of us than we think.”

“Why do you say that?” I demanded.

“And she is certainly very loyal,” she said reflectively.

She would say no more than this.

Bissett’s demeanour during the next few days was strangely forebearing, as if she were suddenly resigned to the moral deficiences in those around her.

The duties assigned to the various members of our household re-arranged themselves in the weeks and months that followed the cook’s departure. Bissett now acquired unchallengeable authority over Sukey (and became so tireless in her pursuit of an ideal of cleanliness that I have seen her many a time make Sukey black-lead the kitchen grate all over again before she would let her go home). Meanwhile my mother, with Sukey’s assistance, took on the cooking, and I have to admit that I found that I missed Mrs Belflower more and more as time passed. Now bereft of the astute house-keeping experience of the cook, we tried to save money by economizing on clothes, provisions, candles, and coal, especially as prices were increasing because of the badness of the times. Meanwhile scenes between Bissett and Sukey of the kind that I have just mentioned having interrupted, grew more and more frequent. We had a bleak first Christmas without Mrs Belflower’s cheerful good-nature and excellent fare, the memories of both being fresh in our minds. Other memories, too, remained fresh and I had been in the habit of asking Sukey about Hougham in the hope — never satisfied —

of hearing news of my little friend. Since her aunt had now come to live with her, however, she was scant of intelligence from that village and at last I gave up even soliciting it. My studies continued, and now I found the old Latin primer I had come across long ago and began to study that language. One result of my efforts was that I was able to see that the motto which had seemed so dishonourably circumspect, could on the contrary be translated to mean: “The rose of safety must be sought in the midst of danger”.

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In the late Spring of the new year Mr Sancious wrote to explain something about the progress of our investment, and my mother showed me the letter which she said was very good news. The Company, he wrote, had entered into a friendly arrangement whereby it assigned certain of the sub-leases on the improved ground-rents to the respected banking-house of Quintard and Mimpriss. He pointed out that the only disadvantage to share-holders was that there would be a slight delay in the completion of the contract.

“You see, Johnnie,” my mother commented. “I knew it would be all right. You were quite wrong to say that we should not have invested more. Fortunately your mother understands these things better than you do.”

The delay, however, turned out to be more than slight for although the following Spring was the end of the two years and therefore the moment that our investment was originally to have matured, the months passed without Mr Sancious finding himself able to give my mother a firm date by which a return could be expected.

That summer I became increasingly bored and irritated at being left to amuse myself on my own, for I was strictly forbidden even to talk to other children. One glorious day in July, however, I took advantage of a misunderstanding between my mother, Bissett, and Sukey about which of them was keeping an eye on me, and slipped out of the house.

As I made my way towards the village I encountered three boys of my own age whom I had often watched and envied. I hailed them and they answered me, though in a slightly surly, suspicious manner. They let me tag along behind them and we made our way towards an abandoned barn on the outskirts of the village. I understood that some secret and even illicit project was in hand, and, knowing from hints dropped by Harry that ratting and even cock-fighting were practised by the boys of the village, I felt a stirring of excitement.

As we entered the dimly-lit barn I made out something on the floor before us, something that hissed and moved convulsively as we approached. There were whoops of delight from my companions and cries of “Got her at last!”. The thing before us was a black cat — very obviously a female — which was caught by one leg in a gin-trap. It was a hideous animal — its legs as thin as sticks but its belly hugely distended. It was trying to run away but, held securely by a length of cord, was only able to flatten itself on the ground, arching its back, and spit at us. Although I had never cared for cats — finding them sly, two-faced creatures — I was horrified by this. And I became the more so when my companions began to pick up the big stones which I now noticed were lying all around, as if they had been thrown there on previous occasions.

It seemed to me that ratting was fair because the rats had the chance to escape from or even to resist the dogs, and cock-fighting matched two creatures on equal terms. But this was ugly and cruel! I began to protest and tried to explain these principles to the other boys, but they ignored me and began to clod stones at the terrified animal. When I tried to stop them physically, they turned their attention to me.

I was seized and punched in the ribs several times and then thrown to the muddy ground and rolled in the dirt. Although I managed to escape without further injury, since I had to return home in this condition, I could not conceal what had happened and was punished (on Bissett’s insistence) by being sent to bed without my supper.

As summer gave way to autumn I saw my mother becoming more and more SPECULATIONS

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tired and preoccupied. Winter arrived and by the time Christmas approached we had heard nothing from Mr Sancious. On the afternoon of Christmas-eve there was a hard frost and snow was threatening, but the three of us — my mother, Sukey, and I — seized the chance offered by the sunny, windless day to gather armfuls of evergreens in Mortsey-wood and to find a Yule clog which I dragged home behind me. And so that evening when — to Bissett’s disgust who was outraged by these “pagan ways” — we had arranged the evergreens around the house and set the clog to burning in the fireplace in the sitting-room, my mother and I exchanged gifts and tried to recapture the Christmases of the past.

Afterwards the post-master’s daughter came with a letter and so, leaving my mother to read it, I went and sat in the kitchen and listened to Sukey telling ghost-stories, as she plucked the goose for the morrow and pounded spices for the stuffing and the mulled wine. The room was full of the bitter-sweet scent of cinnamon and cloves, but I missed the presence of Mrs Belflower and knew that somehow the dinner, despite the trouble we had all gone to, would not be as good as in the old days. Bissett was darning stockings and pretending not to listen to Sukey’s tales, but occasionally she could not resist a disapproving or sceptical remark.

“And from that day to this, nobody in the village ain’t nivver seen him again,” said Sukey as she concluded a particularly horrible story about the disappearance of an impious sexton.

“Stuff and nonsense,” muttered Bissett. “You’ve no business to be filling the child’s head with such things.”

At that moment my mother came into the room. “Johnnie,” she said, “will you come?

I wish to discuss something with you.”

I followed her into the sitting-room and we made ourselves comfortable on the window-seat. By the faint light from the sky we could see the snow falling as if with a quiet and secret purpose.

“My dear,” my mother began, “I don’t quite know what to make of this letter from Mr Sancious.”

“Are we to receive some money soon?”

“I don’t really know. Let me read you part of his letter: ‘The foreclosure of the mortgage, following upon the defalcation of the contractor, is an eventuality not to be contemplated on the estimable principle that’ — good heavens, Johnnie! —
‘Crastinus
enim dies solicitus erit sibi ipsi. Sufficit diei malitia sua.’
(I believe that must be Latin.)

‘However, the subscription of more capital by the present share-holders would entirely forestall this prospect, and we therefore advise you in the strongest terms to make a further investment of five hundred pounds. We enclose the necessary documents for your signature.’ What do you think, Johnnie?”

“Mamma, it sounds to me as if something has gone wrong.”

“Surely that cannot be so or why would he advise us to put in more money?”

“In order to save what we have invested already. But I think we should not throw good money after bad.”

I had often heard Bissett use this phrase.

“But then if you’re right we might lose all the money we have put in!”

“That is so, but you said we could afford to lose three hundred pounds.”

“Well, yes, I know I did,” she said, looking down and colouring. “But you see, Johnnie, it’s really more than that.”

She hesitated.

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“You mean we would also lose the money that we would make if everything turned out well?”

“Yes, that’s just what I meant. So don’t you think that it is worth risking some more?”

“I suppose so.”

“Very well, then. Let us do as Mr Sancious advises and invest another five hundred pounds.”

She sat at her escritoire to write the letter immediately and told me to ask Sukey to take it to the post office on her way home that evening, for she was being allowed to spend the night with her family on account of the approaching holiday.

Just as my mother had wafered and sealed the letter, we heard running feet and Sukey burst into the room: “Come quick! Oh, please ma’am!”

“Why, whatever is the matter?” exclaimed my mother, starting up in alarm.

“There’s two fetches at the back-door, and they’re a-trying to come in!”

“Now don’t be so foolish, Sukey. You know what it is: you have frightened yourself with your own stories, haven’t you?”

“No, ma’am, they’re real. We was sitting there not two minutes back when we suddenly heard a scratching and a scraping at the door. I looked out of window and …”

She broke off and her voice trembled: “I seen two pale faces a-staring back as sure as I’m standing here now.”

My mother looked at me in alarm and although I felt a tremor of dismay run through me, I saw clearly where my duty as the man of the house lay and marched resolutely (in appearance anyway) towards the kitchen with Sukey straggling at the rear.

As we entered we found Bissett standing at the open back-door and shouting “Be off with you!” into the darkness.

“Who is there?” asked my mother.

“Two no-goods come a-begging, Mrs Mellamphy,” said Bissett, turning her head briefly towards us. Then she turned back and shouted: “You heard me. Be off now!”

“Let them come in,” said my mother. “We cannot turn anyone away tonight of all nights, and in this weather.”