The Fancy (33 page)

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Authors: Monica Dickens

BOOK: The Fancy
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“Ought to be getting back,” he said, “or we’ll miss your class. I want to see if my friend Armitage thinks as highly of your doe as I do.”

Mr. Colley—‘s friend Armitage, who was a jolly-looking man with hair that grew forward in a fringe like a boy’s, thought very highly of Freda. He placed her second only to the famous Montserrat Playboy, who had won at so many shows that entering him now was a mere formality. Armitage told Colley afterwards, and Colley told Edward that Freda might even have been placed first if she were not slightly past her prime.

Mr. Armitage, who had a reputation as a humorist, cracked jokes all the time he was judging and made the atmosphere round his end of the bench very gay and informal. Most of the spectators crowded round him, and the judge at the other end of the bench, who went about his work in tight-lipped earnest kept looking along disapprovingly. He
would have liked to give little lectures, but there was hardly anyone at his end to give them to.

What pleased Allan Colley, and therefore Edward, even more than Freda’s expected success was that Mr. Armitage, with many a quip about next Sunday’s dinner, placed Edward’s two young rabbits second and third respectively in a class judged by meat standards.

“As a point of interest, sir,” asked a man in a bowler hat as the bench was being cleared for the next class, “why did you give that Second and Third? They weren’t any bigger than any of the others.”

“I believe you.” said Mr. Armitage. “But the point is, they were younger. By the time they’re the same age, they’ll be bigger? Get it?” The man in the bowler hat nodded and went away to brood over his unplaced exhibit.

“Well what about this rabbit?” A sharp-faced, thrusting woman held out a rabbit which had been one of the first turned off the bench. “He’s bigger than any of the others. Perhaps you’d tell me what’s wrong with him?”

“What’s wrong with him? Well, look at him, madam. Gross. Like a pig, madam. Fat and muscle aren’t the same thing, as any butcher will tell you.” He handed her back the rabbit, wrinkling his nose. “Gross,” he repeated. The woman bore her rabbit away in a . As a matter of fact, I. bhuff and Mr. Armitage smiled round on his appreciative audience.

“Any more questions? Blimey, this is quite a Brains Trust.”

When Edward got home, with a basket in each hand and his blue and green cards peeping out of his breast pocket, he found E. Dexter Bell at the house. Mrs. Munroe was there too, and they were all having tea with hot anchovy toast.

“Look at the lovely flowers Mr. Bell brought for Dorothy, Ted,” said Connie, putting into her voice a reminder that Edward had never thought of bringing flowers all the time Dorothy was in bed.

“And a rattle for baby,” said Dorothy, holding up a garish affair of chromium bells and coloured ribbons.

“Very kind I’m sure,” said Mrs. Munroe.

Mr. Bell basked, leaning well back in his chair. He seemed very much at home.

“How’s yourself, Edward, my boy?” he asked. “Been to a show, I hear. Wish I could have gone with you, but we can’t all take Saturday afternoons off.”

“It’s my monthly half day,” said Edward, sitting down to the cooling cup of tea Connie had poured for him. “Dammit, we work fifty-eight hours a week, I should think we’re entitled to that.”

“Oh, of course, of course, I wasn’t suggesting——” said Mr. Bell, passing off Edward’s slight huffiness with an indulgent laugh. “Do any good at the Show?”

“I did rather, as a matter of a fact,” said Edward carelessly. “Got
a second with my doe Freda in a very hot class, and two of my young ones were well placed in a flesh class.” Mrs. Munroe shuddered slightly. “Chap from a big stud came up afterwards and made me a very good offer for one of them,” went on Edward, helping himself to toast. “He said he’d take any more of the same strain that were going ; seemed quite impressed with it.”

“Splendid, splendid,” said Mr. Bell. “That’s the way to go on. Well, you young rascal, what are you crowing about?” He turned aside to Donny, whose cot was drawn up between him and Dorothy.

“As a matter of fact,” said Edward, incensed by Mr. Bell’s failure to be impressed, “Allan Colley said that they were the best youngsters he’d seen for a long time.”

“Oh, was Colley judging? He told me he wasn’t booked for any more shows this month.”

“No, but he was there. We had lunch together. He talked quite a lot about the Club, by the way. You know what I always said about having a little show for members only——”

“Oh you and your old Club,” said Connie. “Can’t you talk about anything else? It’s awfully boring for us, and I’m sure Mr. Bell doesn’t want to be bothered with business just when he gets a little free time.”

“Look, even Baby’s yawning,” said Dorothy, and they all made cooing noises at the cot, but Edward was not going to be put off.

“As I was saying, Bell,” he continued, with a black look at Connie, “Allan Colley thinks we ought to have a little members’ show. I believe he’d come and judge for us if we asked him.”

“My dear chap,” Mr. Bell gave his short indulgent laugh again, “you can’t ask people like Colley to put themselves out for a potty bigger than any of the others. p along little affair. By all means have another show soon, I’d planned that we should in any case, but don’t let’s go back on what we’ve already achieved. Even if it’s not bigger, we’ll run it on the same lines as the other. I must say I thought it a great success.”

“You would,” said Edward sourly, “you won it.”

Connie said : “Really, Ted!” and Mrs. Munroe clicked her teeth E. Dexter Bell said : “Oh, don’t mind him. It’s just a slight case of our old friend the little green monster, eh, Donny? Eh, you young ragamuffin?”

“It isn’t at all,” said Edward. “It’s simply that the smaller members of the Club ought to have a——” But no one was listening. The women, bored with the rabbit talk had decided that it was the baby’s bedtime. They were getting up and beginning to clear the tea things. Connie had picked up the baby and Edward noticed with a shock how it became her to stand there holding him in his shawl, patting his back and nuzzling her cheek against his head. She posed for a moment or two, the picture of maternity, while Dorothy stacked the tray.

When the women had gone upstairs, Mr. Bell said that he must be
going. “Coming round the corner to have one for the road with me?” he asked. He never seemed to notice when Edward was annoyed with him.

“No,” said Edward. “I’ve got some work to do. I’ve got an article to draft out for
Backyard Breeding
.”

“Commissioned one, have they?”

Edward did not see why he should deny it. After all, Allan Colley had promised to get it in ; that came to the same thing.

“Hul
lo
!” said Mr. Bell. “We are coming on! I quite envy you. You know, I’ve always said I’d do a bit of writing myself if only I had the time. I’ve had a book in my head for years as a matter of fact. You know what they say—there’s at least one book in every man’s life story? I dare say I’ll get down to mine one of these days. Oh well, I must be toddling. Sure you won’t come out?”

“Oh by the way,” said Edward in the hall, “before I forget : this scheme of Club members going round visiting each others stock. It’s quite a success. A lot of them came here last week-end, and tomorrow we’re going to Mr. Marchmont. I thought we might come to you next week if it’s convenient.”

“Terribly sorry, old boy,” said Mr. Bell, putting on his black homburg, “but not next week.”

“Well when?”

“Oh I don’t know. Leave it a bit. I can’t say definitely.”

“I would like to give them a date. They’re awfully keen on coming to you ; they’ve heard so much about your stock.”

“Good heavens, Ledward,” said Mr. Bell quite crossly. “I’ve told you I can’t say definitely. Good Lord, you can’t expect me to throw open my place at a moment’s notice to a rabble of schoolboys and God-forsaken spinsters.”

“But I’ve told them we’re going to you soon. They’ll think it so funny. I mean, everyone else has been only too pleased——”

“Let ’em think what they like,” said Mr. Bell airily. “Look here, I can’t discuss it now ; I’ve got unbelievinglyan alongto fly. And I promised I’d go and see Donny in his bath. I don’t want to miss that. I’m a fool about kids, you know.”

He escaped upstairs and Edward stood in the hall looking after him, nodding his head sagely. A small suspicion that had been creeping into his mind for some time was being confirmed.

He thought about it all night and tackled Dick at the factory on the following Monday.

Dick was having his tea, sitting on an upturned box with a half-pint mug cradled in his hands and two Swiss buns in his lap.

His reactions were unsatisfactory. “I don’t know what’s the matter with you lately, Ted,” he said. “You seem to have got a regular down on Edgar. I must say, considering all he’s done for us, I think it’s damn paltry of you.”

“But don’t you see,” said Edward. “I’m beginning to think that
he’s only helped the Club in order to help himself. Mind you, I’m not blaming him for that ; after all, he’s not a charitable institution, but it does seem a bit fishy to me that he’s been claiming lately for more and more breeding does. He’s been getting an awful lot of the bran ration.”

Dick took a long drink of tea and swilled the liquid round and round in his mug before answering. “Look here, Ted,” he said pompously, “I’m in charge of the rationing scheme. Are you suggesting that I’ve been making false returns? Because if you are——”

“Oh, don’t be a
fool
, Dick,” said Edward exasperated. “I’m not suggesting anything of the kind. I’m only asking, have you ever had any proof that his figures are correct, and what’s even more important, have we any proof that he’s sending half his young stock to the butcher? I mean, it’s different with the other members, because they sell their flesh through us, but as you know, Bell has always done it direct to his own man, and now I’m asking myself : Why?”

“Why?” repeated Dick obtusely, biting into a bun and looking at it while he munched.

“That’s what I’d like to know. I’ve been thinking about it for some time, and the other night, when he as good as refused to let us come and see his stock, I must say, it got me properly suspicious. Look here, how long is it since you went round his place and saw for yourself how many breeding does he’s got? I know it’s months since I did, and then it was only in the dark. I honestly think one of us ought to go and check up. It could all be quite friendly, just an ordinary visit. The last thing I want is any unpleasantness, but if he’s doing what I suspect, well it’s—it’s Black Market, that’s all it is, Dick. You go. I think it’s your duty.”

“I don’t know about you, Ted,” said Dick slowly, “but I personally would be ashamed to go spying like that on a man who’s been such a good friend to us. As I said before, I don’t know what’s got into you. You never used to be one to take a personal spite.”

“Oh Dick, you’re hopeless,” raged Edward. He could have knocked him off his box, mug and buns and all. “You’re so honest yourself, you’re absolutely blind. This man’s got you just where he wants you. He’s probably laughing at you behind your back for a mug——”

Plink-a-plink-a-plonk! The charge-hand of the Assembly Shop played a carillon with a cross bolt on the stu reduction gear blyhds of a crankcase to indicate that the tea break was over. Dick put the last piece of bun into his mouth and stood up, brushing crumbs off his overall.

“We’ve always been good friends, Ted,” he said, “and I’m sure I hope we still may be, but I never thought I should hear you talk to me like that. Come on, Joe. Time’s up.” He lumbered off, with monstrous dignity, his little leprechaun mate hopping behind like a Familiar Spirit.

Cursing Dick’s stupidity, Edward went back to his own Shop and took it out of Reenie for an innocent question about a sticking lever and was told off in his turn by Dinah for having been away for so long with the magnifying glass.

Nobody’s temper was very good on the bench these days. They were short-handed and in a perpetual rush to set the engines through to schedule. Paddy was gone. When her husband came home, he had got her transferred to a factory near where he was stationed. Everyone had been surprised that Paddy, who had always behaved as if she were bored to tears with Canning Kyles had seemed quite upset at leaving. She would not even say good-bye to anyone, but on her last day had slipped away after lunch, leaving them stranded with the embroidered teacloth with which they had planned to surprise her at six o’clock.

Her place was filled by a girl called Rachel, who was taking a long time to learn the job, as she was too busy radiating ripe sex to pay much attention. Kitty’s place was vacant, but she was expected back any day. She had had her baby in the front room, or rather, her mother had practically had it for her, suffering every pain and finishing twice as exhausted as her daughter, who was sitting up having tea and toast three hours after her son arrived. The doctor had said she could go back to work in a month, but Mrs. Ferguson kept discovering signs of relapse, and was being very difficult about weaning the baby to mixed feeding, which had been unheard of in her day, although in her day, as the doctor pointed out, there had not been a war on.

Meanwhile, Grace and Sheila were sharing her work, Sheila regrettably slapdash and preoccupied and Grace so conscientious that she would have taken all day over a set of pipes, given the chance.

Ivy was helping Rachel with the wheelcase job, which she deeply resented, complaining constantly about being paid to do her own job and nobody else’s and absenting herself as often as she dared by way of protest. Dinah and Freda had Wendy’s job to do, for Wendy had been out for the last week ; no one quite knew why. Edward was wondering whether she would think it funny if he went down to the cul-de-sac by the railway to see what was the matter.

Madeleine as ever, was a rock, coming in quietly day after day, doing her job neatly and perfectly, longing to help the busier ones, but impotent because she had never got round to learning any other job but her own. She would stand by them, maddeningly, saying : “Isn’t there some little thing—? Couldn’t I test your springs, or perhaps look at a bearing? I feel such a silly useless thing.” She missed the days when they had all been so jolly together on the bench. No one seemed to have time to chat and joke nowadays ; it was all such a rush. With Paddy gone, she had no one to talk to about Martin, who still had not been traced. As she never mentioned the worry that was eating her up inside, people forgot about it and there was nothing
about her to remind them. She looked just the same, poor old Madeleine, coming in day after day in those sleeveless cotton frocks and that beige straw hat that everyone was so sick of, never a minute late, never lingering for an extra minute over her tea, never go have to find somewhere elseI s.ing out to wash before time, never making a mistake.

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