A Little Death (13 page)

But it does amaze me, how two people can look at the same thing and see it totally different. What Mr. James saw that first afternoon made him fall in love, where most would have taken one look and had us all ready for the barmy shop. But Mr. James had a romantic streak in him where Miss Georgina was concerned and the way he looked at her, you knew he thought she was perfect just how she was, funny old clothes, ramshackle house, the lot, although don’t ask me where the romance is in smelling of rabbits. As I said, I thought my prayers were answered. I’d started going to church again at that time and I said a lot of prayers. In fact, it was Thomas who got me at it. He did a lot in the church, getting up little plays for the Sunday school, that sort of thing. Of course, all we at Dennys used to go to church in the old days, every Sunday, you had to. Then I used to go with Mrs. Mattie, she never missed, but after she left I tried to avoid the village if I could, because people would say things. If they’d said it to my face, I could have given them a straight answer, but no one ever did. They knew about Mr. Lomax’s drinking and I’m sure one or two thought worse—that the two of
us must be having improper relations. Not a word of it true, of course. Thomas said to me, ‘You come along to church. Never mind those old gossips, I’ll soon tell them what’s what,’ because he would never let anyone say a word against Mr. Lomax. And not one of them ever raised so much as a murmur, because Thomas was that well thought of in the village. It was ever such a nice walk down the lane to the church and I used to love going, especially singing the hymns. I could feel it giving me that little extra bit of strength I needed for the next week.

I used to go afterwards and have a tidy-up round Master Freddie’s grave. I’d sort of forgotten it was there, to be honest, and when I saw it, I thought: He must be so lonely all by himself, poor little mite, because his mother was buried up in London. So then I’d take a few flowers from the garden and put them on, and sit with him for a bit before I went home. Neither Mr. Lomax nor Miss Georgina ever went near the place, I know that for a fact. I suppose Master Edmund might have done when he was having his holidays, but if he did he never left no flowers or I’d have seen them. I remember once I was there by the grave, and a woman from the village came along and asked why the sister wasn’t buried next to her brother? She’d heard that Miss Georgina was dead! That’s what I mean about rumours.

Thomas was a nice man in the main, except that he was a little bit funny in the way he took against people. Miss Georgina, for one. He came into the kitchen once and told me he’d caught her wandering about the garden in her nightgown—which I must say was just the sort of thing she would do, without any thought to who saw her. He was terribly upset about it. Because actually, she did have this sort of way—a certain manner, of
moving, looking at you. You knew it wasn’t done for you, she just wanted to see what you… well, what effect she had really, I suppose. Trying herself out, if you like. I used to think, poor girl, because she was so beautiful, if she’d led a normal life she’d have had strings of admirers. She was all contrasts—her skin was pearly white, her hair and eyelashes as black as black and her eyes were the darkest blue I’ve ever seen. Of course, I never told Miss Georgina how beautiful she was. It wouldn’t have been right and, anyway, she didn’t need encouragement.

Thomas started paying court to me. Only in a small way, but he did. ‘Miss Ada’ he called me, but it was serious, not like the way William had said it. To tell the truth, I found it hard talking to Thomas. With William it was always a joke and a laugh as he went past in the corridor, we never had much time, but I never had any difficulty in knowing what to say, the words just came out. But this Thomas, I never knew what to say to him because he was so solemn. If I ever saw him laugh I don’t recall it. Actually, it took me quite a long time to realise that Thomas
was
courting me, because of the way he went about it. I told you he took a dislike to people, well, he’d talk about women in the village, he’d say this one was wicked, that one was wanton, the other one was no better than she ought to be and then he’d finish it up: ‘But you aren’t like that. You’re a good woman, Miss Ada, a respectable woman.’ And again, when one of the village girls got into trouble, he’d say, ‘She wasn’t modest, she didn’t mind herself, but of course you’re not like that, Miss Ada, not at all.’ I thought, well, you’re always telling me what I’m not, so what am I? But I never said that, because he was quite a good deal older than me, so it wouldn’t have been respectful. That’s why I say he wasn’t like William: I
wouldn’t have thought twice about saying it to William. I tried to persuade myself, well, you can’t have a marriage where they can just say any old thing to each other, it wouldn’t be right—but it was really to convince myself I wanted something when I didn’t. Because I knew in my heart that I could never feel the same way for him that I did for William, but I liked talking to him because it was company, and if he’d asked me, I would have said yes. And before you say that’s wicked because it wasn’t love, remember, people thought different in those days—you had to. Thomas had a cottage and a little bit of land so it would have been a good thing for me, because I had nothing. But that question never arose, fortunately—I say ‘fortunately’ now, although I was upset about it at the time. Of course, Thomas would never have wanted to marry me if he’d thought I wasn’t pure, but he never knew about that. What stopped him was Miss Georgina. She put him off coming to the house by flitting about in her nightgown in the middle of the afternoon and spying on him, that sort of thing. From the day Miss Georgina met Mr. James it all changed and there wasn’t any more of that, but it was too late for Thomas. He said he wouldn’t come while she was there and he gave notice to Mr. Lomax. Never a word to me. I suppose I hoped he might come back to see me one day, but he didn’t. I think, because he was so against Miss Georgina, in his mind I was bad because I lived in the same house with her. And he was the sort that once his mind’s made up, he won’t change for anyone.

So then I was disappointed, because I thought: I’m on the shelf now, I’ll never have another chance. I was a bit upset, but I wouldn’t say I was angry with Miss Georgina, exactly, not then. I was too worn out with trying to keep the place going to think much about it, really.

Because I was saving, scrimping—when I hear people saying they’ve had it rough with all the rationing, well, that was nothing to what I had to do in those days. Mr. Lomax wouldn’t pay any of the bills, he wouldn’t give me a penny for food, and every time I asked he flew into a rage and said that the tradespeople were cheating him or I was pocketing the money, so I always came away empty-handed.

I did what I’d seen my mother do, went without so they could have theirs. I remember at home, my father always had the most on his plate. He’d say to her, ‘Aren’t you having some?’

‘Oh, I’ve had mine, don’t you worry.’ All we children knew she hadn’t, but she’d give us a look so we wouldn’t say anything. It made me sad to think of that, because I used to think: I’d gladly go without if it was my husband, my children. I’d sit in the kitchen at Dennys, thinking about it, and that kitchen was no place to get yourself miserable, I can tell you. It was nasty, rotten vegetables everywhere. Thomas had grown some carrots and what-have-you—we got a whole lot of stuff that all came ready together and he had to pick it before he left. I was trying so hard to make these things last that I kept them far too long, and they were all burst and gone soft—oh, it was disgusting—but with Thomas gone I couldn’t bring myself to kill a single one of those poor bunnies. That was his job, he’d always done that. I suppose it was a bit daft, but looking back I think I must have been affected in the head through not having enough to eat, the way I was hoarding those rotten vegetables and thinking I could cook them. I mean, I could see the marks of it on myself. I was thin and scrawny, and I had a great thing come up on my arm, an abscess. I used to make poultices with flour and water and put those on, but it never made any difference.

In the end I couldn’t raise my arm; I had to go into the village to the doctor. I thought, I’m going rotten inside like the vegetables. The day before I went, well, I think some of the badness from the abscess must have gone to my head because I went out to the rabbits. It was a beautiful, sunny day and I had this idea that I was going to let them all out onto the lawn. I don’t know how I thought I was going to get them back; I just felt sorry for them, cooped up like that with all that lovely grass outside. Well, I undid the first hutch and the rabbit was just hopping off over the lawn, and then bang! it shot up in the air. Mr. Lomax was stood on the veranda with his big gun: ‘Don’t let it go, you stupid girl. Get after it!’ He’d hit the poor thing, but it wasn’t killed, it was still kicking, trying to get away. I had to give it a bang on the head with a piece of wood in the end, to kill it, and that was horrible, doing that. I remember I sat there on the veranda holding this dead thing on my lap, with blood all over its head and all down my apron, and I was crying my eyes out.

If I’d been Mr. James, that’s what I’d have been asking myself, was there any madness in the family? Because he was no fool, otherwise how would he have made all the money he did? But he was that much in love with Miss Georgina, he couldn’t see anything else. I doubt if all the king’s horses and all the king’s men would have parted him from her, never mind Mr. Lomax three sheets to the wind. Still, when Mr. James came, I took care that he didn’t see any but the best furniture, even if the dining-room chairs didn’t look much when they were out on the veranda. I’d half killed myself trying to wash Miss Georgina’s things and get them nice, but if you got up close you could still see all these brown marks where the damp had got them. As for Mr. Lomax, he still had that filthy old string of cloth
round his neck—he’d never let me come near enough to get it away from him—and the state his clothes were in, anyone would have thought he was a tramp.

But then Master Edmund met Mr. James and you could see they hit it off right away. Mr. James used to send his chauffeur off to the pub in the village, then he would drive the car himself and take Master Edmund and Miss Georgina on rides all around the country. I’d always know when they’d been through the village because someone would come up to me after church: ‘Oh, we saw the car last week.’ Because it was unusual in those days, to see a car.

Well, things being as they were, Mr. James asked Miss Georgina to marry him. I remember when Master Edmund came home from university, she’d written to him to tell him about it and he came dashing through the front door and up the stairs and whirled her round and round, and she put her arms round his neck and they rocked backwards and forwards, laughing and laughing. I heard Miss Georgina say to Master Edmund, ‘It’s all fixed. You can come and live with us in London. Jimmy says so.’

Then they stopped laughing and he said, ‘Will you mind being married, Georgie?’

‘Why should it make any difference?’

‘You’ll be Mrs. James Gresham.’

That set her off laughing again.

‘Mrs. James Gresham, how ridiculous!’

‘We’ll still be first friends, won’t we, Georgie?’

‘Of course we will. I’d like to see Mr. James Gresham try and change that!’ Well, I thought, that’s a funny way to speak about your intended, but I was tickled pink to see them both so happy.

Mr. James had saved Mr. Lomax’s bacon by buying when he did, I know that for a fact, and now he was
marrying Miss Georgina and she was going to be rich— any father would have been overjoyed, but Mr. Lomax never said ‘Congratulations’ or anything, just went on the same as before. He did like Mr. James, though. Mr. James used to visit him even after the wedding, every few months he’d drive down from London to see him. But Miss Georgina never went with him—in fact, she never went back to Dennys at all except for her father’s funeral.

Well, when Miss Georgina got engaged, that was the beginning of the fun. Mr. Lomax had said she could marry, so then she had to have trips to London for her clothes and trousseau, and she brought back all sorts of wonderful things. She used to go with Mr. James’s mother, who was French, so of course she dressed beautifully. Mr. James had to pay for it all himself, which wasn’t the right way, but he didn’t seem to mind. Miss Georgina’s wedding dress was the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen. It was the latest style, with the narrow skirt and all in lace so fine you’d have thought fairies had made it. Oh, Miss Georgina loved that, picking out all the clothes and the big hats they wore then with the feathers. It was like watching a child let loose in a sweet-shop and I’m sure no mannequin could have worn those clothes better than she did.

I was very worried about the state of the house because of having the wedding there, but Master Edmund told me I was to get some of the women from the village and some workmen, and before long the place was almost back to its old self. Oh, it was lovely to have it all bustling again, and get the windows mended and the tiles back on the roof, and the cobwebs down and everything scrubbed and polished. Master Edmund was everywhere at once, he even helped the men to move the furniture. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so excited. He
went up to the village and managed to persuade Thomas to come and rescue the garden, which was just as well because it looked like the wilderness.

He walked straight into the kitchen, Thomas did: ‘Good-day, Miss Ada.’ You could have knocked me down with a feather! Never a hint of what had passed, so I thought: Well, two can play at that game and I kept my distance. I was a bit worried, to tell the truth, because if I’m honest, I had been to Thomas’s cottage— only the once, mind you—but I did go there, just to say hello, and knocked on the door, only he wasn’t at home so I came away. But one of the farmers’ wives had seen me coming out of his gate and it crossed my mind more than once that my visit might have got back to him. But least said, soonest mended, that’s what they say, and besides, I didn’t have to worry no more because Mr. James had asked me would I go and be housekeeper for them in London when they were married? He’d told me that Mr. Lomax was already suited, that Master Edmund had asked Thomas to come and look after him, and Thomas had said he would give up his cottage to live at Dennys. I thought it was a rum thing to do, but Mr. James told me that that was what Mr. Lomax wanted and anyway, it wasn’t none of my business. I felt as if I was being set free and I was thrilled. I used to imagine it, how it was going to be when Miss Georgina was married. Mr. James was such a good man and he’d have given her the moon if she’d asked for it. I was sure they’d have lots of children, all beautiful. I couldn’t wait to see those children. I had a picture in my mind, like a real painting with a fancy gold frame in that style they had in the old days, of Miss Georgina with four lovely children. She’d be sitting in the middle with two big boys standing beside her and two little girls in front with white dresses and pink sashes. I felt those children
were just waiting to come to us and if I shut my eyes I could almost see them holding out their little hands. I wanted them as much as if they were my own. I’d even thought about what names to give them. Because it was the best I could get, you see, I knew that.