Loving, Living, Party Going (5 page)

Miss Burch began to sniff, to show signs of coming round.

'It wouldn't take but a minute to nip down,' Edith went on but Miss Burch interrupted.

'No don't leave me, Edith,' she said.

'Then what is it now?' the girl asked, 'what's happened to upset you like you are?'

Then it came out much interrupted and in a confused flow after she had adjusted her cap. What Miss Burch felt so she said was that nothing would ever be the same, that after thirty-five years in service she could not look forward to being in a respectable house again where your work was respected and in which you could do your best. Yet with the same breath she told Edith that Kate and her were lucky to be in a place like this. She went on that there were not many girls in their position able to learn the trade as she was able to teach it, to pass on all she had acquired about the cleaning and ordering of a house, particularly when over at home they were all being sent in the army to be leapt on so she honestly believed by drunken soldiers in darkness. She said they were never to leave the Castle, that they didn't know their luck. But at the same time, with another burst of sobs, she repeated that nothing would ever be the same, that it was to throw away a life time's labour for her to go on here. She made no mention of Mr Eldon. In the end a cup of tea had finally quietened Miss Burch so that the two girls were at last able to set off down the back way which joined the main drive not far from Michael's Lodge Gate, cut in the ruined wall which shut this demesne from tumble-down country outside.

Another morning, as he had been warned that Captain Davenport and Mrs Tancy were coming over to luncheon, Charley went to his room, got out the red and black notebooks, consulted the index and looked these people up. He read:

'Davenport Captain Irish Rifles ret'd salmon trout Master Dermot
first term. Wife passed away flu' 1937. Digs after the old kings in his bog'
Then there was a long list of amounts with a date set against each. These
possibly were tips. But Raunce noticed that Mr Eldon had touched the Captain
for larger and larger amounts. At the last which was for a fiver Charley whistled.
He said out loud, 'Now I wonder.'

Then he turned to the woman's page. 'Mrs Tancy her old Morris,' he found set down and the word Morris had been crossed out Mr Eldon had added above, 'her old pony male eleven years.' There came another long list of dates with unvaryingly small payments, not one larger than a shilling, the last in August.

Mr Eldon had always seen to opening the door himself so that when the Captain rang it was the first time that Raunce had received him.

'Well now if it isn't Arthur,' this man said hearty and also it appeared with distaste. He put up the cycle for himself. 'And what news of Eldon?'

After Raunce told him and he had expressed regret he stood there awkward so to speak. Charley took his chance.

'And how are the salmon trout running sir?' he asked.

'Salmon trout? No fishin' yet. Close season.'

'And Master Dermot sir?' Raunce enquired without a flicker.

'Very fit thank you very fit. He's in the eleven. I'll find me own way thank you Arthur.'

'Not a sausage, not a solitary sausage,' Raunce muttered at his back referring to the fact that he had not been tipped.

He waited for Mrs Tancy behind the closed door, presumably so as to have nothing to do with Michael who stood outside to take over this lady's pony and trap.

'I'm late,' she said when she did come. 'I'm late aren't I?' she said to them both. 'Could you?' she asked Michael handing him the reins. 'Oh Punch there now!'

For the cob with lifted tail was evacuating onto the gravelled
drive. One hundred donkey cart loads of washed gravel from Michael's brother's
pit had been ordered at Michael's suggestion to freshen the rutted drive where
this turned inward across the ha-ha. Gravel sold by Michael's brother Patrick
and carted by Danny his mother's other son who had thought to stop at the
seventy-ninth load the donkey being tired after it was understood that Mrs
Tennant would be charged for the full hundred.

Michael ran forward to catch Punch's droppings before these could fall on the gravel which he had raked over that very morning.

'Asy,' he said as though in pain, 'asy.'

'The dear man he should not have bothered,' Mrs Tancy remarked in a momentary brogue.

With a pyramid steaming on his hands Michael glared about at the daffodil sprouted lawn Then he shambled off till he could scatter what he carried on the nearest border. Meantime Charley, looking his disgust, stood at the pony's hazy violet eyes. After a moment of withdrawal Punch began to nose about his pocket.

'The cob is looking well Madam,' he brought out.

'Isn't he, isn't he?' she said. 'Well thank you Arthur,' she said slipping a British threepenny bit into his hand and sailed past with not so much as a thank you for Michael.

When there were guests to lunch the servants had theirs afterwards. So it was not until ten past two that Raunce sat down in Mr Eldon's chair. He carved savagely like a head-hunter. They ate what he gave them in haste, silent for a time. Then Charley thought to ask,

'That Captain Davenport? Now where would I have heard he seeks after treasure in a bog?'

He got no answer.

'Do they dig for it,' he went on, 'or pry long sticks into the ground or what?' he mused aloud.

'Are you thinking you'll have a go?' Kate said.

'Now there was no cause to be pert my girl,' he said. 'Why goodness gracious me,' he remarked to Edith, 'whatever are you blushing for?'

She looked as though she was going to choke. If he had only known she was stricken by embarrassment. She knew very well that the last time the lady had been over to view the excavations Mrs Jack returned without her drawers. And it was with not a single word. They had vanished, there was not a trace. To turn it perhaps, she said to the lampman,

'What d'you know Paddy?'

'Why here we are sitting and we never thought of him,' Kate said. 'Come on now. You'd know Clancarty.'

He made no answer. But he laughed once, bent over his dish.

'Clancarty Paddy,' Kate tried again, 'Mr Raunce is asking you?'

Charley watched Edith. He said under his breath, 'it's funny the way she blushes but then she's only a kid.'

'Are they makin' a search?' Kate went on and she fixed her small eyes unwavering on Edith. The lampman made no reply. He seldom did.

Edith while she blushed hot was picturing that wet afternoon Mrs Jack had last been over to Clancarty. While Mrs T. and her daughter-in-law were on with their dinner Edith had been in the younger woman's room busily clearing up. She hung the thin coat and skirt of tweed which held the scent used, she put the folded web of shirt and stockings into drawers of rosewood. She laid the outdoor crocodile skin shoes ready to take down to Paddy. She tidied the towels then went to prepare that bed, boat-shaped black and gold with a gold oar at the foot. She moved softly gently as someone in devotion and handled the pink silk sheets like veils. The curtains were drawn. Then all that she had to do was done. Those oil lamps were lit. But she stuck a finger in her mouth, looked about as if she missed something. Then she searched, and faster. She had gone through everything that was put away faster and faster. When she was sure those drawers Mrs Jack had worn to go out were astray her great dark eyes had been hot to glowing.

'I'll wager they had everything of gold,' Raunce said, still on about the excavations.

'And wore silk on their legs,' said Edith, short of breath.

'Don't talk so silly,' Miss Burch took her up. 'They never put silk next to themselves in those days my girl. It wasn't discovered.'

'Did they have silk knickers then Paddy,' Kate asked giggling.

'I never heard such a thing,' Miss Burch replied. 'You'll oblige me by dropping the subject. Isn't it bad enough to have dinner late as it is,' she said 'You just leave the poor man alone. You let him be.'

Bert spoke. 'The nursery never had much of theirs,' he said. 'I must've took back the better part of what I carried up.'

'Oh dear,' cried Raunce in the high falsetto he put on whenever he referred to Nanny Swift.

'You should have seen 'er,' Bert added.

Both girls giggled softly while Charley still in falsetto asked whose face, holy smoke.

'Now that's quite enough of that,' Miss Burch said firm. There was a pause. 'I knew Mrs Welch had been upset,' she went on, 'and now I perceive why, not that I'm trying to excuse those potatoes she just gave us,' she said All of them listened. She seemed almost to be in good humour. 'They were never cooked,' she added, 'and I do believe that's why they put salt on spuds,' looking at Paddy, 'but I'll say this, those precious peacocks of yours would have spurned 'em.'

Right to the last meal Mr Eldon had taken in this room it had been his part to speak, to wind up as it were, almost to leave the impress of a bishop on his flock. This may have been what led Charley to echo in a serious tone,

'Miss Swift is a difficult woman whilst she's up in her nursery. But she can be nice as you please outside.'

'That's right,' Miss Burch said, 'and as I've often found, take someone out of their position in life and you find a different person altogether, yes.'

The two girls looked at one another, a waste of giggling behind their eyes again.

'But our potatoes this afternoon were not fit for the table,' Raunce said to Miss Burch.

'Thank you Mr Raunce,' she replied. In this way for the first time she seemed to recognize his place.

'Well look sharp my lad,' he said to Bert. He appeared to ooze authority. 'Holy Moses see what time it is.'

He hastened out like a man who does not know how long his new found luck will hold. Also he had to make his first entry in the red notebook, to record the first tip. He put the date under Mrs Tancy's name, and then '3d'. 'Wonder what happened in that six months gap,' he murmured to himself about Mr Eldon's last date, 'she's been over to lunch many a time since and he'll have had the old dropsy out of her. He was losing grip not entering it, that's what,' he added aloud. Then he laid the books aside.

He first addressed an envelope. 'To Mrs William Raunce,' he wrote in pencil, '396 May Road Peterboro' Yorks' and immediately afterwards traced this with a pen. Next he began on the letter, again in pencil.

'Dear Mother'
he wrote without hesitating, 7
hope you are well. I am. Mr Eldon's funeral was last Tuesday. The floral tributes were
grand. He will be sadly missed. At present I am doing his work and mine. I am not getting any extra money which I have spoken of to Mrs Tennant. This war will make a big difference in every home.

'Mother I am very worried for you with the terrible bombing. Have you got a Anderson shelter yet? I ought to be over there with you Mother not here. But perhaps he will keep to London with his bombing. What will become of the old town.

'We are all in God's hands Mother dear. I am very perplexed with what is best to do whether to come over or stay. If 1 went away from here to be with you there would be the Labour Exchange and then the Army. They have not got to my age yet because I will be forty next June you remember. But I'm thinking they shall Mother and sooner than we look to. We must all hope for the best.

'With love Mother to my sister Bell I do hope she looks after you all right tell her. Your loving son, Charley.'

Then he inked it in. As he licked the envelope flap after putting in the Money Order he squinted a bit wild, and this was shocking with his two different-coloured eyes Lastly he laid his head down on his arms, went straight off to sleep.

There was often no real work went on in the Castle of an afternoon. Generally speaking this time was set aside so that Edith could sew or darn for Mrs Jack whom she looked after, and for Kate to see to the linen. But this afternoon as there had been guests they lent Bert a hand to clear away, then helped Mrs Welch's two girls Jane and Mary whose job it was to wash up everything except the tea things. The four of them chattered in Mrs Welch's scullery while this woman, seated in an armchair behind the closed door of her kitchen, stared grimly at her own black notebook.

'How is she?' Edith asked jerking her head and in a whisper.

'She's all right,' Mary whispered back, 'though we wondered a bit in the morning didn't we dear?-' she said to Jane.

'I'll say we wondered.'

'But it was O.K. at the finish,' Mary went on. 'All's well that ends well as they say. There was practically nothing came back from the luncheon nor the nursery and you people do seem to've enjoyed your dinners.'

'Just old Aggie Burch as didn't like 'er spuds,' Kate said, 'but you don't want to take notice. I know I don't.'

'Doesn't this sink make your back ache,' Edith remarked. 'But there,' she said, 'I expect her nephew on his way over is bringing a big change in Mrs Welch. I shouldn't be surprised if she didn't have him on account of the bombing Isn't it dreadful?'

'The war's on now all right,' Kate said, 'and do these rotten Irish care? They make me sick.'

'What's the Irish got to do with it?' Jane asked. 'They're out aren't they? If they mean to stay out who's to blame 'em?'

'If it wasn't for the children the little angels I wouldn't ever remain. I couldn't really,' Edith announced. 'Look I'm going to dry, my back's broke. I could worship the ground they walks on. They're real little ladies. And how Mrs Jack dresses them. They've got everything so nice I cherish those kids.'

'Well they're goin' to have a boy to keep 'em company now,' Kate said with malice. 'Very nice too and so they should,' she added.

'But what will Miss Swift say to that?' asked Edith.

'Oh that's O K.,' Mary said, 'Miss Swift she come down to have a chat and Jane and me gets out of the light thinking there will be ructions but not a sound come past that closed door not one. We stayed here to see too didn't we love?' she said to Jane 'Then in the end they both came through proper buddies, Mrs Welch seem' 'er out as pleasant as you please and her saying "well I hope the air will do him good. It's like this with children Mrs Welch," she says. "One and all they're better for a change," she says. I was that surprised.'