The Fancy (46 page)

His mind wandered still farther away from Coccidiosis and brooded on their conversation after supper. It was a farce to call it discussing plans, when it consisted in Mr. Bell laying down the law and over-coming any opposition by the simple expedient of raising his voice. He was going to give the sale great publicity ; he was full of plans which seemed to Edward cheap and vulgar. The thing was taking on the nature of a stunt instead of a sincere enterprise to promote rabbit breeding and raise money for the Red Cross.

“I’ll have to see that we get a good write-up in the papers,” Mr. Bell had said, drawing patterns on the tablecloth.

“I’ll give it a good bit of space in
Backyard Breeding
, of course,” said Edward, feeling that here at least was something in which he had the advantage of Mr. Bell.

“Do that by all means, my dear chap, but I was thinking of the real thing, papers that people read.”

“But they do read
Backyard Breeding
” said Edward. “It’s got a circulation of——”

“Oh yes, yes, a certain class of people do, I don’t doubt, but we’re aiming at the great general public, not at the poor little sheep who would trot anywhere after somebody that said ‘rabbits’. You’ve got to learn to broaden your outlook, Ted. I was saying to Connie only today : ‘Ted’s getting narrow-minded, I said. He wants to go about more and see what’s going on in the great world.’ Didn’t I, Connie?” Connie nodded and bit off a thread. Edward had taken the opportunity of asking her to turn a pair of cuffs for him, knowing that she could not refuse with any graciousness in Mr. Bell’s presence.

When the broad figure took a step nearer to her mother,’ blyh had gone paddling off into the night, after standing long on the doorstep and letting a lot of cold air into the house, Edward had said to Connie : “That chap certainly knows what he wants—and sees that he gets it. I only wish I could think that he were on the right tack.”

“You get on my nerves with all your moping and worrying, really you do,” said Connie, rolling up the shirt with only one cuff done, “Why don’t you leave the arrangements to him without trying to
interfere? He knows much more about it than you do. You may know something about aeroplane engines, but that doesn’t mean to say you know everything. Just because you’re a charge-hand at Kyles, you can’t expect to take charge everywhere.” She had gone up to bed, pleased with her pun, and there was Edward’s see-saw, tipping him from one of his worries to the other again.

He had not mentioned his trouble at work to Connie. What was the use? She was no more interested in the factory than in rabbits, and even if she did listen, she would not try to understand or take his part. The habit of criticising everything he did was too strong in her. She always knew he was wrong. If he told her it was quicker to go to Harrow by train, she would take a bus without further enquiry. If he said that he thought the Germans could not make another blitz on London, she would begin to agitate about the condition of their street shelter.

Sitting musing at the table, when he should have been writing his article, he allowed himself to wonder what it would be like to be married to a woman in whom you could confide. How different everything would be now if he could come home and indulge in self-pity and be told how unfair it was, and that of course he was in the right and that the Management ought to be shown up. He remembered how Tom Presser’s wife had once come raging up to the factory like a tigress when Tom was being kept on night duty against the doctor’s advice.

That was the sort of a wife to have. For a long time now, Connie had not even been a wife to him in “that way” That bewildering but gratifying period when she had suddenly started being nice to him had not lasted very long. She was back on her own extreme edge of the bed, and it would take a thicker-skinned man than Edward to invite her into the middle

Things might have been different if they had only had a child. They never would now. The last time he had suggested that Connie might pay another visit to the doctor, she had rounded on him with : “If you ask me, it’s you who ought to see a doctor, not me!” He had not mentioned the subject again.

Because he was feeling particularly low tonight, he allowed himself the forbidden fancy of what his life might have been if he had married someone different. The disturbing part of thinking like this was that picture her as he might, the woman always insisted on looking like Wendy. If he went on imagining what life might have been like if he had married someone like Wendy, it made him feel embarrassed when he saw her next day.

He recollected himself and, looking at his watch again, saw that he bad not written a word for fifteen minutes. Here, this would never do. “Snap out of it, Cheviot Freemantle” he said, and got up briskly to pull the curtains across the window.

Sitting down again, he concentrated on his treatment of biliary Coccidiosis. “I give no medicine,” he wrote. “No bread, no bran or oats. I give milk only and any choice tit-bits of green food that the ailing animal will fancy. Just as human invalids must be coaxed to eat, so with the invalid rabbit. Time spent on persuading it to partake of, if you like.”. b nourishment will not be wasted, believe me.”

He was well into his stride, when he heard Connie’s key in the latch and then the thud of her umbrella dropping into the stand. She opened the door, breaking the thread of his thoughts, and he closed the book and stood up. He would finish the article later when she had gone to bed.

“Ah, there you are, Con. I was beginning to wonder what had happened to you. I’m as hungry as a hunter.”

She came into the room taking off her gloves, and then unwound her scarf and began to fold it carefully on the table, smoothing out the creases. She looked subtly different tonight, flushed, as if she were excited about something or had been running. When she spoke, she did not meet his eyes. She went over to the mantelpiece and began to fiddle with the things on it, winding up the green glass clock, emptying a clean ashtray into the grate. She seemed to have something on her mind.

“Well,” said Edward, rubbing his hands. “What’s on the menu for tonight? Tell me what you want to have, and I’ll get supper, Con, if you’re tired.”

“I’ve got something to tell you, Edward,” she said, turning round to face him, as if she had not heard him.

“Fire away,” he said. “If it’s about that shaving mirror you broke, don’t worry, because I’ve already seen it.”

“How silly you are.” She frowned at him. “Can’t you ever be serious except when you’ve got some worry about your Rabbit Club? You’re glum enough then, goodness knows. In fact, that’s why I haven’t told you this before, although I’ve had it in my head for quite a time. You seemed so wrapped in yourself that I didn’t think you’d trouble about discussing anything else.”

“Well, let’s discuss it now,” said Edward, “whatever it is, and get it over. I want my supper.”

She came forward and stood her large patent leather handbag on the table, resting her hands on it. “There’s nothing really to discuss now,” she said. “I’ve made up my mind.” She went on rapidly, but speaking in that careful new voice of hers which she used not only with the Bells but when she spoke of them. “You know how interested I am in my work at the estate agency. I can’t think what I should do without it now. Well, it happens that Edgar—Mr. Bell has to go to Birmingham for a while to take charge of the branch of the agency there. They’ve got into difficulties through being understaffed, and he has to go and straighten things out. Mr. Lorrimer
will take charge of the London branch ; he’s a very capable man.”

Edward was not interested in the machinations of Bell, Watson and Lampeter, but he said : “How does it affect you though? I should have thought they’d need you at the office more than ever. Don’t tell me your job’s coming to an end ; that would be too bad.”

“Oh, goodness no.” She gave a little laugh. “Quite the reverse. The fact is, Ted, Mr. Bell wants me to go up to Birmingham to work for him up there. They’re short of staff, and I know his ways, you see.” She gave the little laugh again. “He says he doesn’t know how he would manage without me.”

“But Connie, you can’t—I mean, where would you live? Unless you’re planning to live with him by any chance?” he joked.

“Really, Ted. His sister’s going shrugged his shoulders.pa, too, to keep house for them, and she’s very kindly suggested that if I do go up there to work, I should live with them as a paying guest.”

“You’d like that, I expect. How long would it be for then? A week or so, just to help them to get straight, I suppose.”

Connie began to open and shut her fat, shiny bag, making a sharp click every time she snapped the fastener. “A good deal longer than that, Ted. Mr. Bell may take over the Birmingham branch permanently, and they’ll let ‘Uanmee’ and settle down up there as soon as they find a suitable house.”

Edward was so overjoyed at the news that Providence was ridding him of E. Dexter Bell that he did not realise at first what Connie was implying. H
¹
s mind raced ahead. This would put paid to that auction sale, this would settle Mr. Marchmont and the other grumblers. Edward would be able to refuse membership to pros, he could be President …

“Do you hear what I’m saying, Ted?” asked Connie tartly. “I try to tell you that I mean to go away from here and you don’t seem to trouble at all. I’m very glad I’m sure that it doesn’t inconvenience you. That was the only thing that kept me from deciding, but now I see that I needn’t have worried.” She took out her handkerchief and dabbed politely at one nostril. Connie never blew her nose, even when she had a cold.

“Well, here’s a nice thing,” said Edward easily. “My own wife walking out on me! This’ll make some talk, I can tell you.”

His jaw dropped suddenly in the middle of the laugh as he looked at her and realised all at once what she did mean.

“Con,” he said unbelievingly. “You’re joking. You don’t honestly mean that you want to go away—apart from work, I mean. Aren’t you happy here? I’ll admit that we’ve had our little tiffs and all that sort of thing, but we’ve rubbed along all right up to now.” He was appalled. She was his wife, bound to him “till death do us part.” She couldn’t be suggesting—“You can’t mean that you want to make a break after all these years!” He leaned forward, trying to fathom her careful face.

“I never said that,” she hedged. “If you like to take it that way, please yourself. As to being happy—well, if you’ve been happy, I’m very glad, I’m sure.” She sniffed. Edward wished that they could have both been sitting down. It felt so silly to be standing up like people on their way to somewhere when things were being said that were shattering the whole security of life.

“But I’d no idea! You mean you want to go away for
good
, Connie?” He could not seem to take it in. “You don’t want to come back at all?”

“Oh, don’t be so sweeping,” she said irritably. “Who knows what I’ll do? I’ve merely said I’m going away for a bit and under the circumstances, I think it’s the best thing for both of us. There’s no need to be so dramatic about it.”

But Edward felt dramatic. He stopped her with a hand on her arm as she picked up her bag and made to go out of the room. “Look here,” he said tensely. “Are you trying to tell me you want a divorce, is that it?”

Connie recoiled slightly as she did when anyone called a stomach a belly. “Divorce is an ugly word,” she said severely, and shaking off his hand, went out Inauguration Show’, p along to the kitchen before she could be tricked into putting herself into the wrong by revealing her intentions.

He had not given Connie the satisfaction of hearing him say : “But you can’t go. How’ll I manage without you?” Whenever she tried to make practical arrangements, he had waved them aside, saying : “Don’t you worry about me. I shall get along famously.” She had suggested that he might like to let the house for a bit and take rooms in the neighbourhood, but he had laughed : “Whatever for? D’you think I can’t manage on my own? And where d’you think I’m going to keep my rabbits if I move out of the house?”

She was gone within a week, still not committing herself about the future. Mr. Bell had behaved queerly. He had not come near Edward before he left, although Edward, in his delight at being rid of him was quite willing to have a farewell party and part on the friendliest possible terms. Mr. Bell had even avoided Dick, merely writing him a letter to apologise for leaving them in the lurch, and trusting that Dick would understand that the claims of business, etc., etc.

“What are we going to do?” Dick had kept moaning, when he showed Edward the letter. “What about the auction? We’ll never be able to carry it through on our own.”

“The auction, my dear Dick,” said Edward happily, “is off—nah poo—down the drain.” He turned both thumbs towards the ground.

“But the Club! However are we going to carry it on without him? Looks as though we shall have to dissolve it, Ted,” said Dick, sticking out his underlip and staring dolefully at the floor.

“Dissolve it!” cried Edward, as hearty as E. Dexter Bell had ever
been, giving Dick a clap across the shoulders that made him stagger and cough. “You crazy fool. We’re going to run it now as we never could before. We’re going ahead with it in our own way. Listen, I’ve got plans for a bright little show …” But Dick had shaken his head and repeated : “I don’t like it, Ted. I don’t like it.” So Edward had left him alone to recover from the blow of losing his Edgar. He would come to presently. Dick needed time to cope with new situations.

Connie’s family did not seem to realise that anything was wrong between her and Edward. They had accepted the explanation that she was going away on essential work, and rubbed into their neighbours at Schoolbred Buildings how important she was. Mrs. Munroe had assured Edward that he would never manage. Mr. Munroe had suggested that he might come and live with them at the Buildings, but had been sat on at once for his tactlessness. The flat was full enough already what with Dorothy and the baby, even if Mrs. Munroe had wanted Edward there. She was not prepared to help him in any way except to impress on him how much he would miss Connie.