Running to Paradise (8 page)

‘
You must tell Con,’ I said. ‘She will know what to do for the best.’

‘
You too?’ he said, oh so bitterly. ‘You agree with everyone else: I’m incapable of providing properly for my own family, my wife must do it for me.’ I tried to calm him down and made him tell me everything. Renton won’t have to go — yet —but they must cut down, because the business has to come first. I offered to help. My portion from Mama is untouched: Roo and I are quite able to live as we wish on our incomes.

‘
You’re a Trojan, Beth,’ he said and hugged me, ‘you always were.’ He promised he would tell Con the whole, but will he stick to his promise? He’s such a dear, but has he told me all? Only the other day Polly Bigland saw him outside the Ritz in Paris with a woman of a certain class ‘simply covered in fox and smelling of cheap scent,’ Polly said. Con thought he was shooting with the Ainsleys in Gloucestershire. What can one say at such times? We walked as far as Chelsea Old Church, where he put me in a hansom for home. He would walk to his rooms, he said. So strange, he hasn’t bared his soul in that way for years; not since his last half at Harrow when there was all that trouble.

Roo
returns tomorrow. I’m glad. Tiresome though she is at times, the flat is empty without her.

Garden
Court, Kensington — 10th December 1912

Con
to stay for shopping. Such fun! The flat is full of parcels and pretty Christmas paper. Con told me about the money. I’d promised Dick to pretend I knew nothing of it so showed (I hope) surprise when she broached the matter.

‘
He’s such a fool,’ she said, ‘to take such people seriously just because they were at school at Eton and a member of the MCC! If Father had used such criteria for doing business, we would still be selling clothes pegs in Shropshire.’ Dear Con, she does exaggerate, but, of course (as usual), she’s right. It was foolish of Dick to take the advice of such a man. They’ve been forced to cut down at Renton. Con has sold one of her hunters. ‘I’m rarely fit to ride now,’ she said. No great sacrifice, then, I thought. Dick to give up his rooms in town for the time being; Con wants him under her eye!

‘
I have been down to the office,’ she announced, while we took tea at Gunters — such delicious ices. ‘The waste there, you cannot believe.’ Poor old Dick, I do feel sorry for him, although he has brought the trouble on himself, silly boy.

We
dine out tonight, Con back to Renton tomorrow. Char to come next week to see Mr Boyce. I’m afraid she will have to have a brace for her teeth. Such a shame, poor child. The latest gov has lasted three months — a record! Perhaps it’s because she lives out; not so much opportunity for discord!

*

Renton House

12th
May 1913

Dearest
Beth,

So
nice to get your postcards from Brittany. I am glad you and Roo had such a splendid holiday, with plenty of opportunities for sketching. I am afraid I have been a little seedy lately with these wretched heads — so absurd. Have managed to carry on with my hospital work, but the Lord knows how sometimes. All well here otherwise and all send their love.

Now,
Beth dear: Dick and I have a proposal to make. We are wondering whether you would consider having Char to live with you in London during term time and attend one of the Kensington day schools; I have it on good authority that there are several good ones. We feel school would be the best thing for Char now. I cannot approve of her going as a boarder and there are no suitable day schools close to Renton. Miss Izzard, the latest gov, is leaving the area at the end of June to be married. Such a nuisance. One would have thought her past all that sort of nonsense. However, the woman has her life to lead, I suppose, but quite frankly I cannot face the thought of finding a new gov to replace her. Now, dear, say right out if you would rather not. You know I prefer people to speak their minds, but I do know how fond you are of the child and she of you, and Dick and I both feel it would be splendid if you agreed. Char is racing ahead at her lessons, but has not enough to occupy her mind. She has become the leader of the little group of children who do their lessons with her now and encourages them into every kind of mischief: for this reason alone, we feel it would be better for the child to be away from home for a time. Please write me your thoughts on the plan, dear.

Your
loving Con

*

Garden Court, Kensington — 15th September 1913

Dear
Char arrives tomorrow — so thrilling! I hope all will go well. The box room looks quite charming and Roo, at the last minute, has bought such a nice little desk; there’s just enough space for it under the window: as my contribution, I have fitted it out with pens and pencils.

I
’m to take the child to school each morning to start with, until she feels she can do it herself. Only ten minutes’ walk and one road to cross. Cook has made her a special cake — a great honour! The train arrives 3.10 at King’s Cross; Dick to meet her and bring her here. Will she be homesick, I wonder? When I asked her she said: ‘Of course not, it’s home I’m sick of.’ She doesn’t mean that, of course. If nothing else, she will surely miss the animals.

Garden
Court, Kensington — 17th September 1913

Char
has settled in
so
well. Not a whiff of homesickness, not even on her first night.

Dick
brought her from the station, but couldn’t stay. So there she stood in the middle of the drawing-room, hat on the back of her head grinning at me so wickedly!

‘
We’ll have lots of larks, Aunt Beth,’ she said, ‘now we’ve got rid of cross old Ma and Pa.’ I was hard put to it not to giggle, but Roo was a little shocked and looked at me to correct the child for speaking of her parents in that way. But what to say? I funked it, of course, and Roo put on her emu face and rummaged about in her work box: I can always tell when she’s annoyed.

However,
all was well. Char thanked her so prettily for the desk: ‘Oh, Cousin Roo, the very best present I’ve ever had,’ and Roo was all smiles again and even offered to take the child to the Natural History Museum! Wicked little puss, she has her father’s charm. Only once did I detect a sign of missing Renton. When I kissed her goodnight she asked if I thought that Augustus, her cat, would be alright without her. ‘You see,’ she said, ‘I’m the only person he can talk to, no one else understands him.’

Dick
still down in the dumps. Things no better between him and Con. ‘She fills the house with poets and anarchists,’ he told me. ‘Rum people who sit about all day in the drawing room talking nonsense.’ Apparently the other evening Con, in front of everyone, ordered him upstairs to bed: he wasn’t contributing anything useful to their conversation, she said!

Life
so busy now I scarcely have time to write this journal. Four o’clock already. I must put on my hat and coat and fetch Char from school...

Garden
Court, Kensington — 4th October 1913

Miss
Ryder, Char’s form mistress, says she is settling in
so
well, such good news. Roo is beginning to dote on her, as I do, and indeed is halfway to spoiling the child!

Milly
Fenton-Wright tells me people are beginning to talk — Con and some young man called Hubert Stokes, who writes avant garde plays. He has apparently stayed alone at Renton with her and is telling people they are going to Paris together! To cap that, Dick was seen at Cheltenham Races with Bunny Burgoyne’s wife!

Where,
I wonder, will it all end?

Char
to tea on Sunday with a little school friend, Polly Everett. Such nice people. He’s something in the City and she’s a friend of Barbara Dundas and does such charming watercolours.

Garden
Court, Kensington — 18th December 1913

Char
to Renton tomorrow, how sad and how we shall miss her. No Renton for me this Christmas: Con (apparently) too seedy to entertain or so she says. Roo and I go North to her people instead.

Char
made such an enchanting little fairy in the school Christmas play. She had one line to speak and did a little dance as well. Roo says she thinks the dance must have been extempore and not in her part. She says she heard someone whispering from the wings, ‘Osborn, come off at once!’ Never mind, the audience was charmed, especially the papas!

Nearly
1914 — how old I am getting. I wonder what the New Year will bring for us all...?

*

This is the secret diary of Charlotte Mary Osborn. Anyone who reads it without asking her first will have a curse laid on them and they will surely die.

Renton
House, Beds — 2nd January 1914

No
hunting because of frost. Horrible boiled eggs for breakfast and liver for lunch. Helped Smith in the potting shed. Went with Ma and Uncle Hubert to a concert in the village. Sat on Uncle Hubert’s knee and he laughed when a fat lady sang a song about fairies. I love Uncle H. He is not like a grown-up. He calls me his mermaid because I have green eyes.

Renton
House, Beds — 3rd January 1914

I
will write this diary every day. Uncle H went away today. We saw him off at the station. Ma was cross. A smut went in her eye and Uncle H got it out. He gave me a lovely little lucky charm on a ring all the way from Egypt. I had fun in the bath tonite.

Renton
House, Beds — 6th January 1914

Nothing
happened today.

Renton
House, Beds — 10th January 1914

Pa
came home today. He was cross because I had been in Warrior’s stable. He says it is dangerous as Warrior kicks and anyway he told me not to. Warrior is
not
dangerous. He is lovely and would never kick me. The new groom who is called Gilles said I must not do it again or he will get into trouble. Gilles is ever so nice. He showed me his cigarette cards. He has some good ones.

We
saw the soldiers marching through the village again today. All the village children were shouting and waving flags. A soldier winked at me as he marched by. Ma is ill. She read Bevis to me at rest. It is a luvly book.

Renton
House, Beds — 12th January 1914

Gilles
showed me how to clean the tack. He says spit is best. He says he was going to be a jockey but he did not smoke enuff so he grew too tall for one. He says he likes Renton and Pa is a good master. He says he gets a good wage, much better than where he was. He says he will save up his money so one day he can buy a farm and breed horses. I do like Gilles.

Ma
is still in bed. Two more days and I will be back at horrid old school. Ma says I am to travel to London on the train by myself but I will be in charge of the gard. Uncle H is meeting me. Hooray.

Garden
Court, Kensington — 14th January 1914

I
am writing this diary in my bed at Garden Court. Gilles gave me a set of cigarette cards when I said goodbye to him this morning. They are splendid ones. I shall keep them always. He squeezed my hand and said I was an Al kid. Ma says I spend too much time in the stables talking to Gilles. I don’t care. He is much nicer than all the silly stuffy people she makes me meet. It was fun on the train. The gard gave me a bag of sweets and showed me his little office in the gardsvan. There was a lovely little puppy in a box in the van and I gave it one of my sweets. Uncle H met me at King’s Cross. He let me ride on top of a horse bus instead of going in a boring old cab and we sent my trunk on to Aunt Beth by carrier. It was a lovely ride and we sang songs all the way to Kensington. Aunt Beth thought we had got lost and where was my trunk. Uncle H said, ‘Oh pooh, don’t fuss woman.’ Aunt Beth went red.

Garden
Court, Kensington — 15th January 1914

Today
I went for a bicycle ride with Uncle H in Battersea Park. When we got home Aunt Beth was cross. She said Uncle H should have asked her first. Uncle H got cross too and went red. He said, just because I write plays you don’t approve of does not mean I kidnap little girls. I did not hear any more cos I was sent out of the room. Uncle H is so funny. He rode his bicycle with no hands and nearly fell off into some horse mush. An old lady sitting on a seat shouted, ‘Mind how you go, young man, or we’ll all be in the soup.’

Horrid
old school in the morning. I hope...

Garden
Court, Kensington — 16th January 1914

Two
new girls in our form. Aunt Beth says I can walk to school by myself this term. Polly and her brother, who is called Tom, are coming to tea on Sunday. Mr Flinders was sick on the drawing-room carpet. Cook says it is cos the people next door give him rubbish to eat. She says it is a shocking waist: they throw out joints of meat and cream buns even.

Garden
Court, Kensington — 18th January 1914

Uncle
H has sent me such a funny postcard from Paris. It says ‘Oh la la!’ and it is of a big fat lady undressing. Cousin Roo said it was not funny at all and Uncle H was an irresponsible young man. Aunt Beth did not say anything, just looked. I sent a letter to Gilles today and thanked him for the lovely cigarette cards. When I asked Aunt Beth for a stamp she said who was I writing to. I said it was to a very rich young man who is staying with Ma for the hunting. Ha ha.