The Brontes Went to Woolworths (26 page)

‘ don’t you agree with me, Miss Ainslie?’

‘Pardon, Lady Toddington?’

‘I was saying that I think all you girls ought to be made love to before settling down by men from every profession from earls to pantomime dames. It’s the only way to – – learn.’

‘My dear Mildred! let nobody indict your education in that respect!’ Sir Herbert leant back, eyes crinkled with sardonic amusement.

‘Eat your nourishing nuts, Herbert. What I mean is, that it must make a person one-sided to have only been kissed by gentlemen.’

‘I’d love an affair with a dame,’ agreed Deirdre, shouting above the laughter.

‘Pass the chocolates along to Miss Ainslie, Sheil, petty,’ prompted Mrs Carne.

‘I’ve kissed Freddie Pipson
and
Toddy,’ piped Sheil, obeying.

‘You little lamb!’ Lady Toddington blew her a kiss.

‘Tell me, Miss Ainslie, are you a believer in the methods of Montessori? My wife tells me that you are very modern
,’ Herbert Toddington leant to Helen Ainslie. But she was already recovering; the ‘all you girls’ of Lady Toddington and the sane camaraderie of the crackers made her herself again, and quite soon she had whipped on a Chinese hat, and, making a funny face for Sheil, cried, ‘I’m the Jam of Tartary. Allah!’

‘I don’t think it’s very like a jam tart,’ answered Sheil, interested, ‘it’s shaped more like a muffin.’ Sir Herbert privily shook, and his wife muttered, ‘I shall die.’

And then Katrine, adjusting a tiny straw hat, said to Lady Toddington, ‘Meet Mr Lassiter.’

‘How do you do, Mr Lassiter. I’ve always wanted to know you.’

‘Oh,
who
,’ began Miss Ainslie, but Deirdre had already swept her away.

‘Emily says he is “a just though shallow man,” and when I asked Charlotte if she liked him, she said, weighing her words, “I do and I do not. His principles are unpolluted, but he is a great quiz.”’

‘What about your novel, Deirdre?’

‘Well, Toddy, I’ve had the courage to rend it in twain, thanks to Charlotte. You remember her pencilled comments?’ ‘Of course. I was deeply interested.’

‘Well, I have done all she suggested. Oh, if she had written more!
’

‘ – you must pull a cracker with me, Miss Ainslie! . . . there, you’ve got it! That goes much better with your hair. How I envy you being fair!’ Lady Toddington swept the spent cracker aside and nodded, smilingly. Sheil squeaked at the bang, then, weaving her way to the foot of the table, she reverently fitted a jockey cap on to Sir Herbert’s head, placed a serpent ring upon his finger, kissed him upon one shaggy eyebrow, and announced from a slip of paper in her hand,

Oh fairest flower of all the flowers that bloom
Thy mirthful glance has sealed my happy doom.

‘That’s bigamy, Herbert.’

‘No, Mildred. At most it is alienation of affection.’

‘Charlotte’s got a ripsnorter,’ announced Deirdre.

Fear not, fond heart, but love will come
And claim you wheresoever you may roam.

‘Snakes!’

‘Well, it’s not very much worse than
her
poetry
’

‘Let’s do one for all of us.’

There at the table-end sits little Toddy . . .

His shirt is linen . . .

. . . and his pants are shoddy.

‘Thank you, thank you, Miss Carne. Highly humorous, I am sure, if wholly inaccurate.’

‘We can’t give you a motto, Miss Ainslie. There’s no rhyme to fit
your
name.’

‘Shall we go and light the tree?’ suggested Mrs Carne, a little hastily.

29

(
‘Oh, a most successful party
,’ Helen Ainslie told herself.

But one had to go on asserting it).

In the glowing drawing-room she instinctively gravitated to Lady Toddington. She had fully intended to exchange ideas with Sir Herbert, but there it was.

The tree, dominating the room, sparkled, its base banked three-deep with packages. Helen Ainslie, doing rapid mental arithmetic, discovered amazement, then, remembering her own surprise in store, was consoled. Also, she herself was included, lavishly. The individual presents received, her arms became piled with what might or might not have been afterthoughts, and which the Carnes lumped together under the general heading of ‘dirts.’ The silk sports coat from Mrs Carne, the fur and leather gauntlets, sports stockings, and béret from the girls. And chocolates, notepaper, eau-deCologne, a tiny glass maple tree. Dirts . . . how killing.

‘The dog will be sick,’ she observed to Lady Toddington.

‘Oh well, let him enjoy himself. It’s Christmas.’ Lady Toddington smiled at Crellie as he sat chewing chocolate caramels and occasionally becoming inextricably welded, upon which he put the top of his head on the floor and stood in the roof of his mouth. Disposed round him were a drinking bowl with a picture on it, a new collar, a net stocking full of toys and a ‘small mixture’ in the toe, a serge pillow made by Mrs Carne and embroidered ‘C.C.’ in one corner and ‘R.I.P.’ in the other, a rubber bone, the packet of caramels and a mechanical mouse. The Carnes had also jointly contributed a religious calendar.

Helen Ainslie, reconstructing the evening, would perhaps date the moment that harassment definitely set in from the response of Lady Toddington about Crellie. For the Carnes, their personal
pièces de résistance
distributed, were still passing each other packets with remarks that one never quite seemed to catch.

‘From Ionie
’ (‘
Or was it “irony”
?’)

Then Deirdre, coming up to Sir Herbert’s chair and presenting a book: ‘From Charlotte, Toddy dear.’ And Sheil, leaning against Lady Toddington and watching Mrs Carne as she drew yet another parcel from the back of the tree and gave it (‘
with a rather peculiar look’
) to her guest.

‘That’s from Emily.’

‘Oh, you two darlings! And I didn’t bring anything for her.’ ‘You
did
! Look at the things you and Toddy gave us! Besides, she wouldn’t have liked it, you know. They’re very queer about presents, Lady Mildred.’

‘They had so few, poor wretches,’ said Mrs Carne, ‘it must have made them rather
farouche
.’ Here she smiled self-consciously at Helen Ainslie, and quickly snipped a chocolate fish for her from the boughs.

On the other side of the tree, Deirdre and Katrine were heard by Miss Ainslie to proffer unknown gifts from Mr Saffyn (‘
it wasn’t Baffin, then
’).

‘ – and Polly sends these, with her warmest regards.’

‘Then she
is
miffed about not being invited to-night! She’d have sent her love, if she wasn’t.’ Laughter . . . a Pauline and an Ennis . . .

Miss Ainslie rose. Her moment was at hand. Her last parcel was balanced on the pot in which the tree stood; she annexed it, beaming. Katy had been so awfully pleased with the shingle brush, and Sheil had thanked her so earnestly for
Peter Pan
. . .

She put the packet into the child’s hands. ‘That,’ she announced, ‘is a little remembrance from Henry the Eighth,’ and burst out laughing.

Deirdre came forward quickly. ‘Stout fella,’ she approved, casually.

‘Oh, Miss Ainslie,
how
kind of you,’ said Mrs Carne. Katrine gave a high, hysteric giggle.

Sir Herbert said, ‘Dear me. A typical gesture where fair ladies were in question.’

Lady Toddington murmured, ‘There now! I wonder whatever it can be?’ and looked slightly worried.

Sheil thanked, her expression a blank. She had turned crimson. Crellie hicupped.

Helen Ainslie found herself beginning to babble. ‘Oh yes. He specially asked me to choose it for you when I met him in the High Street. So you open it, old lady, at once, if not sooner, and don’t keep His Majesty waiting.’ Again Sheil’s thanks, and in the conversation which sprang up, she found herself and her pupil making for Lady Toddington; in a minor way, it partook of the nature of a race to the goal of this pleasant, cheerful lady . . .

Lady Toddington instantly put both arms about the child. Helen Ainslie, wondering what remark was going to emerge, opened her lips.

Lady Toddington said, ‘I saw the Brontës, yesterday.’

Miss Ainslie closed her mouth. Deirdre said, ‘Where?’

‘In Woolworth’s.’ Lady Toddington kissed the top of Sheil’s head.

‘A moment, Mildred. Would they have the means to say nothing of the inclination to purchase Christmas goods? Can one
see
them in such a shop?’

Helen Ainslie looked at Sir Herbert closely. He was perfectly serious, interested, argumentative, fingertips joined. She thought better of the laughter she had been ready to expend. If one laughed, there was no knowing how the party would take it. That was how it seemed.