Overture to Death (3 page)

He said, “Thank you very much. I don’t feel that my duties as chairman will be very heavy as we have only met to settle the date and nature of this entertainment, and when that is decided all I shall have to do is to hand everything over to the kind people who take part. Perhaps I should explain a little about the object we have in mind. The Young People’s Friendly Circle, which has done such splendid work in Pen Cuckoo and the neighbouring parishes, is badly in need of funds. Miss Prentice as president and Miss Campanula as secretary, will tell you all about that. What we want more than anything else is a new piano. The present instrument was given by your father, wasn’t it, squire?”

“Yes,” said Jocelyn. “I remember quite well. It was when I was about twelve. It wasn’t new then. I can imagine it’s pretty well a dead horse.”

“We had a tuner up from Great Chipping,” said Miss Campanula, “and he says he can’t do anything more with it. I blame the scouts. Ever since the eldest Cain boy was made scout-master they have gone from bad to worse. He’s got no idea of discipline, that young man. On Saturday I found Georgie Biggins tramping up and down the keyboard in his boots and whanging the wires inside with the end of his pole. ‘If I were your scout-master,’ I said, ‘I’d give you a beating that you’d not forget in a twelvemonth.’ His reply was grossly impertinent. I told the eldest Cain that if he couldn’t control his boys himself he’d better hand them over to someone who could.”

“Dear me, yes,” said the rector hurriedly. “Young barbarians they are sometimes. Well now, the piano is of course not the sole property of the Y.P.F.C. It was a gift to the parish. But I have suggested that, as they use it a great deal, perhaps it would be well to devote whatever funds result from this entertainment to a piano fund, rather than to a general Y.P.F.C. fund. I don’t know what you all think about this.”

“How much would a new piano cost?” asked Dr. Templett.

“There’s a very good instrument at Preece’s in Great Chipping,” said the rector. “The price is £50.”

“We can’t hope to make that at our show, can we?” asked Dinah.

“I tell you what,” said the squire. “I’ll make up the difference. The piano seems to be a Pen Cuckoo affair.”

There was a general gratified murmur.

“Damned good of you, squire,” said Dr. Templett. “Very generous.”

“Very good indeed,” agreed the rector.

Miss Prentice, without moving, seemed to preen herself. Henry saw Miss Campanula look at her friend and was startled by the singularly venomous glint in her eye. He thought, “She’s jealous of Eleanor taking reflected glory from father’s offer.” And suddenly he was appalled by the thought of these two aging women united in so profound a dissonance.

“Perhaps,” said the rector, “we had better have a formal motion.”

They had a formal motion. The rector hurried them on. A date was fixed three weeks ahead for the performance in the parish hall. Miss Prentice who seemed to have become a secretary by virtue of her seat on the rector’s right hand, made quantities of notes. And all the time each of these eight people knew very well that they merely moved in a circle round the true matter of their meeting. What Miss Prentice called “the nature of our little entertainment” had yet to be determined. Every now and then someone would steal a covert glance at the small pile of modern plays in front of Dinah, and the larger pile of elderly French’s acting editions in front of Miss Prentice. And while they discussed prices of admission, and dates, through each of their minds raced their secret thoughts.

ii

The rector thought, “I cannot believe it of Templett. A medical man with an invalid wife! Besides, there’s his professional position. But what persuaded him to bring her here? He must have known how they would talk. I wish Miss Campanula wouldn’t look at me like that. She wants to see me alone again. I wish I’d never said confession was recognised by the Church, but how could I not? I wish she wouldn’t confess. I wish that I didn’t get the impression that she and Miss Prentice merely use the confessional as a means of informing against each other. Six parts and seven people. Oh; dear!”

The squire thought, “Eleanor’s quite right, I was good in
Ici on Parle Français
. Funny how some people take to the stage naturally. Now, if Dinah and Henry try to suggest one of those modern things, as likely as not there will be nothing that suits me. What I’d like is one of those charming not-so-young men in a Marie Tempest comedy. Mrs. Ross could play the Marie Tempest part. Eleanor and old Idris wouldn’t have that at any price. I wonder if it’s true that they don’t really kiss on the stage because of the grease paint. Still, at rehearsals… I wonder if it’s true about Templett and Mrs. Ross. I’m as young as ever I was. What the devil am I going to do about Henry and Dinah Copeland? Dinah’s a pretty girl. Hard, though. Modern. If only the Copelands were a bit better off it wouldn’t matter. I suppose they’ll talk about me, both of them. Henry will say something clever. Blast and damn Eleanor! Why the devil couldn’t she hold her tongue, and then I shouldn’t have had to deal with it. Six parts and seven people. Why shouldn’t she be in it, after all? I suppose Templett would want the charming not-so-young part and they’d turn me into some bloody comic old dodderer.”

Eleanor Prentice thought, “If I take care and manage this well it will look as if it’s Idris who is making all the trouble and he will think her uncharitable. Six parts and seven people. Idris is determined to stop that Ross woman at all costs. I can see one of Idris’s tantrums coming. That’s all to the good. I shall be forty-nine next month. Idris is more than forty-nine. Dinah should work in the parish. I wonder what goes on among actors and actresses. Dressing and undressing behind the scenes and travelling about together. If I could find out that Dinah had — If I married, Jocelyn would make me an allowance. To see that woman look at Templett like that and he at her! Dinah and Henry! I can’t bear it. I can’t endure it. Never show you’re hurt. I want to look at him, but I mustn’t. Henry might be watching. Henry knows. A parish priest should be married. His head is like an angel’s head. No. Not an angel’s. A Greek god. Prostrate before Thy throne to lie and gaze and gaze on Thee. Oh, God, let him love me!”

Henry thought, “To-morrow morning if it’s fine I shall meet Dinah above Cloudyfold and tell her that I love her. Why shouldn’t Templett have his Selia Ross in the play? Six parts and seven people to the devil! Let’s find a new play. I’m in love for the first time. I’ve crossed the border into a strange country and never again will there be a moment quite like this. To-morrow morning, if it’s fine, Dinah and I will meet up on Cloudyfold.”

Dinah thought, ‘To-morrow morning, if it’s fine, Henry will be waiting for me above Cloudyfold and I think he will tell me he loves me. There will be nobody in the whole wide world but Henry and me.”

Templett thought, “I’ll have to be careful. I suppose I was a fool to suggest her coming, but after she said she was so keen on acting it seemed the only thing to do. If those two starved spinsters get their teeth into us it’ll be all up with the practice. I wish to God I was made differently. I wish to God my wife wasn’t what she is. Perhaps it’d be all the same if she wasn’t. Selia’s got me. It’s like an infection. I’m eaten up with it.”

Selia Ross thought, “So far so good. I’ve got here. I can manage the squire easily enough, but he’s got his eye on me already. The boy’s in love with the girl, but he’s a man and I think he’ll be generous. He’s no fool, though, and I rather fancy he’s summed me up. Attractive, with those light grey eyes and black lashes. It might be amusing to take him from her. I doubt if I could. He’s past the age when they fall for women a good deal older than themselves. I feel equal to the whole lot of them. It was fun coming in with Billy and seeing those two frost-bitten old virgins with their eyes popping out of their heads. They know I’m too much for them with my good common streak of hard sense and determination. They’re both trying to see if Billy’s arm is touching my shoulders. The Campanula is staring quite openly and the Poor Relation’s looking out of the corner of her eyes. I’ll lean back a little. There! Now have a good look. It’s a bore about Billy’s professional reputation and having to be so careful. I want like hell to show them all he’s mine. I’ve never felt like this about any other man, never. It’s as if we’d engulfed each other. I suppose it’s love. I won’t have him in their bogus schoolroom play without me. He might have a love scene with the girl. I couldn’t stand that. Seven people and six parts. Now, then!”

And Idris Campanula thought, “If I could in decency lay my hands on that straw-coloured wanton I’d shake the very life out of her. The infamous brazen effrontery! To force her way into Pen Cuckoo, without an invitation, under the protection of that man! I always suspected Dr. Templett of that sort of thing. If Eleanor had the gumption of a rabbit she’d have forbidden them the house. Sitting on the arm of her chair! A fine excuse! He’s practically got his arm around her. I’ll look straight at them and let her see what I think of her. There! She’s smiling. She knows, and she doesn’t care. It amounts to living in open sin with him. The rector
can’t
let it pass. It’s an open insult to me, making me sit at the same table with them. Every hand against me. I’ve no friends. They only want my money. Eleanor’s as bad as the rest. She’s tried to poison the rector’s mind against me. She’s jealous of me. The play was
my
idea and now she’s talking as if it was hers. The rector must be warned. I’ll ask him to hear my confession on Friday. I’ll confess the unkind thoughts I’ve had of Eleanor Prentice and before he can stop me I’ll tell him what they were and then perhaps he’ll begin to see through Eleanor. Then I’ll say I’ve been uncharitable about Mrs. Ross and Dr. Templett. I’ll say I’m an outspoken woman and believe in looking facts in the face. He
must
prefer me to Eleanor. I ought to have married. With my ability and my money and my brains I’d make a success of it. I’d do the Rectory up and get rid of that impertinent old maid. Dinah could go back to the stage as soon as she liked, or if Eleanor’s gossip is true, she could marry Henry Jernigham. Eleanor wouldn’t care much for that. She’ll fight tooth and nail before she sees another chatelaine at Pen Cuckoo. I’ll back Eleanor up as far as Dr. Templett and his common little light-of-love are concerned, but if she tries to come between me and Walter Copeland she’ll regret it. Now then, I’ll speak.”

And bringing her large, ugly hand down sharply on the table she said:

“May I have a word?”

“Please do,” said Mr. Copeland nervously.

“As secretary,” began Miss Campanula loudly, “I have discussed this matter with the Y.P.F.C. members individually. They plan an entertainment of their own later on in the year and they are
most
anxious that this little affair should be arranged
entirely
by ourselves. Just five or six, they said, of the people who are really interested in the Circle. They mentioned you, of course, rector, and the squire, as patron, and you Eleanor, naturally, as president. They said they hoped Dinah would not feel that our humble efforts were beneath her dignity and that she would grace our little performance. And you, Henry, they particularly mentioned you.”

“Thank you,” said Henry solemnly. Miss Campanula darted a suspicious glance at him and went on:

“They seem to think they’d like to see me making an exhibition of myself with all the rest of you. Of course, I don’t pretend to histrionic talent — ”

“
Of course
you must have a part, Idris,” said Miss Prentice. “We depend upon you.”

“Thank you, Eleanor,” said Miss Campanula; and between the two ladies there flashed the signal of an alliance.

“That makes five, doesn’t it?” asked Miss Prentice sweetly.

“Five,” said Miss Campanula.

“Six, with Dr. Templett,” said Henry.

“We should be very glad to have Dr. Templett,” rejoined Miss Prentice, with so cunningly balanced an inflection that her rejection of Mrs. Ross was implicit in every syllable.

“Well, a G.P.’s an awkward sort of fellow when it comes to rehearsals,” said Dr. Templett. “Never know when an urgent case may not crop up. Still, if you don’t mind risking it I’d like to take a part.”

“We’ll certainly risk it,” said the rector. There was a murmur of assent followed by a deadly little silence. The rector drew in his breath, looked at his daughter who gave him a heartening nod, and said:

“Now, before we go any further with the number of performers, I think we should decide on the form of the entertainment. If it is going to be a play, so much will depend upon the piece chosen. Has anybody any suggestion?”

“I move,” said Miss Campanula, “that we do a play, and I suggest
Simple Susan
as a suitable piece.”

“I should like to second that,” said Miss Prentice.

“What sort of play is it?” asked Dr. Templett. “I haven’t heard of it. Is it new?”

“It’s a contemporary of
East Lynne
and
The Silver King
I should think,” said Dinah.

Henry and Dr. Templett laughed. Miss Campanula thrust out her bosom, turned scarlet in the face, and said:

“In my humble opinion, Dinah, it is none the worse for that.”

“It’s so amusing,” said Miss Prentice. “You remember it, Jocelyn, don’t you? There’s that little bit where Lord Sylvester pretends to be his own tailor and proposes to Lady Maude, thinking she’s her own lady’s maid. Such an original notion and so ludicrous.”

“It has thrown generations of audiences into convulsions,” agreed Henry.

“Henry,” said the squire.

“Sorry, Father. But honestly, as a dramatic device — ”

“
Simple Susan
,” said Miss Campanula hotly, “may be old-fashioned in the sense that it contains no disgusting innuendoes. It does not depend on vulgarity for its fun, and that’s more than can be said for most of your modern comedies.”

“How far does Lord Sylvester go — ” began Dinah.

“Dinah!” said the rector quietly.

“All right, Daddy. Sorry. I only — ”

“How old is Lord Sylvester?” interrupted the squire suddenly.