Henrietta Sees It Through (20 page)

I rushed blindly into the Street, nearly colliding with little Mrs Simpkins in her bath-chair, who was bringing
Stray Thoughts for Girls
as her offering.

On the way home I decided to steal the Fieldings. It was quite simple. That night, while the nine o'clock news deadened the sound of my burglarious entrance, I walked into
the Savernacks' house, saw the key of the depot on the hall table, picked it up, and walked out again. Then I went to the depot, lifted the Fieldings tenderly from their shelf, put five one-pound notes on the counter under a copy of
Uncle Tom's Cabin
, returned the key to the Savernacks' hall table, and went home.

‘More books?' said Charles, looking up from
The Times
. ‘You'll have to get another shelf put up soon.'

Next morning, like a murderer unable to keep away from the scene of his crime, I took another book down to the Good Book depot. The empty space on the shelf where the Fieldings had been yawned accusingly empty, but nobody seemed to have noticed it, and Mrs Savernack accepted
Gone With the Wind
very graciously.

‘People are always so wonderfully generous,' said Mrs Admiral. ‘Yesterday we had an anonymous gift of five pounds.'

But that evening, just before dinner, while Charles was drinking his whisky and soda, Evensong flung open the door and the Police Sergeant and Mrs Savernack walked into the room.

‘Hullo, Sergeant,' said Charles, who has professional dealings with the police, ‘what's the trouble now?'

The Sergeant scratched his chin and looked uncomfortable. ‘Well, Sir——' he said.

‘It's Henrietta,' said Mrs Savernack. ‘She's stolen some books.'

‘I wouldn't put it past her,' said Charles cheerfully.

Mrs Savernack walked across to the bookshelves. ‘There they are!' she said dramatically, pointing at the Fieldings.

‘I didn't steal them,' I said. ‘I left five pounds.'

‘What damn-fool nonsense is this, Henrietta?' said Charles.

‘They were so beautiful,' I said.

‘It was my fault,' said Mrs Savernack, coming to my rescue in a big way. ‘I told her they were going to be pulped. Of course, they aren't really.'

‘Then I take it you don't want to bring a case?' said the Sergeant.

‘Certainly not,' said Mrs Savernack. ‘The whole thing was a misunderstanding.'

The Sergeant then refused some beer, winked at me behind Mrs Savernack's back, and left. Mrs Savernack stayed behind to have a drink. She said nobody knew of my lapse - she couldn't call it anything worse than that -except Mrs Admiral and herself, and they would be as silent as the grave. She said she was going to give my five pounds to the Red Cross as a judgement. Then she went away with the Fieldings.

When she had gone, Charles said, ‘You silly little thing! I believe you were frightened.'

I said, ‘Yes.'

Always your affectionate Childhood's Friend,

H
ENRIETTA

 

 

 

November 15, 1944

M
Y
D
EAR
R
OBERT

It is wonderful news that you may be coming home. Do you think we shall recognise each other after all these years, or shall we have to meet under the clock at Waterloo, each wearing a red carnation? Is there still a clock at Waterloo? And are there any red carnations left in
London? I wouldn't be knowing. I think we must arrange to meet somewhere else. I suppose some day I shall make a Rip Van Winkle sort of appearance in London again, but not yet. It would be like going to stare at somebody who is very ill and hasn't got her false teeth in - all right for those who are near and dear to her, but an impertinence from strangers.

When I got your letter I sat down in front of my looking-glass and turned it towards the cold light of day. I wanted to take stock of what Charles calls the ‘Old Visage', and face up to the ravages of time with what courage I could muster.

The reflection in the glass wasn't frightfully encouraging. Thinner, of course, and the thing in my cheek which used to be a dimple had deceitfully turned itself into a line. Lines, not to say furrows, from nose to chin, lines on the forehead and round the eyes, and a dreadful hint of incipient scrag at the neck. Hair at the sides gone into what I like to call grey wings, and what everybody else calls just grey hair. Eyebrows grown coarse and eyelashes fine. Also a cold.

‘What are you doing, Henrietta?' said Charles, coming into my room at that moment.

‘I think Queen Elizabeth was right never to look in the glass,' I said gloomily.

Charles bent down and looked over my shoulder at my reflection. ‘Worrying about the Old Visage?' he said kindly.

‘I'll say I am.'

Charles stared into the glass in silence, then he said, ‘Of course, this is a very trying light.'

‘Yes, Charles.'

‘And you haven't done anything to your face this morning?'

‘No, Charles.'

‘Personally, I like a woman to have a few lines on her face,' said Charles. ‘It shows she uses it.'

‘Yes, Charles.'

‘Don't sigh like that, Henrietta,' said Charles. ‘We can't keep young for ever.'

‘I'm afraid Robert will notice a great change in my appearance,' I said sadly.

‘Of course, this is a very trying light'

‘I shouldn't worry about Robert,' said Charles, whom I have never succeeded in making jealous. ‘He's probably developed an enormous stomach and a bald head by now. All the same, you'd better go and get yourself done up a bit. I'll speak to Faith about it. It will be good for your morale if nothing else.'

That afternoon Faith came bustling round and found me bedding-out the wallflowers. ‘I'm so glad you're going to take an interest in your appearance at last, Henrietta,' she said. ‘I've made an appointment for you with my little man on Tuesday. He's marvellous. We'll go in together.'

On Tuesday, Faith and I caught the early train to our Cathedral City. Faith said she had made appointments for everything, and that it would take time. She said she herself would have just a shampoo and set.

Faith's little man, who was called Gaston, looked at me gloomily when I was paraded before him.

‘Madam wishes to change her hairstyle,' said Faith.

‘That is not the surprise,' said Gaston simply.

‘She's going to have a facial as well,' said Faith, ‘and a manicure and her eyebrows plucked.'

‘Not plucked, Faith,' I said.

‘Shaped, then,' said Faith.

‘Every small helps,' said Gaston. ‘But it is the hairstyle which makes the big guns.' He then sat me in a chair, pulled my two faithful hairpins, Castor and Pollux, from my head and threw them carelessly on a shelf. After that he began combing my hair about and twisting my head this way and that, making clucking noises all the time.

‘The face is too thin,' said Gaston.

‘I'm afraid so,' I said.

‘And the brow not sufficiently broad. The eyes also they are too close. It is not in the mode.'

‘I'm sorry,' I said.

‘We will see,' said Gaston.

Three hours later, when the female assistants had withdrawn with buffers and tweezers, and Gaston was putting the finishing touches to my hair, Faith came into my cubicle. ‘Finished?' she said.

Gaston whisked the towel from around my neck. ‘
Regardez
!' he cried. ‘We have here the definite improvement. Yes? No? It is not?'

‘My dear Henrietta!' said Faith, in a hushed voice.

I opened my eyes, for I had fallen into an exhausted sleep. A perfectly strange face confronted me in the looking-glass.

‘I fill out the hair at the sides to give breadth,' said Gaston.

‘Marvellous!' said Faith. ‘Don't you like it, Henrietta?'

‘I don't think Charles will,' I said.

‘Charles will love it,' said Faith firmly.

‘I like my fingernails and my eyebrows,' I said, not wishing to appear ungrateful.

‘You look ten years younger,' said Faith. But I didn't. The awful thing was that I looked ten years older. Faith and I went out to have some tea, and every time I saw myself in a shop window my stomach turned over inside me.

When Charles came in that evening I stood up, trembling, but all he said was, ‘I've had a terrible day and I'm not done yet.' But halfway through dinner he laid down his knife and fork and said, ‘Henrietta, what on earth have you been doing to yourself?'

‘It's my new hairstyle, Charles,' I said.

‘Then I shall grow a beard,' said Charles.

Next morning I managed to coax my hair back into its old ways, but the sad part of the story is that I left Castor and Pollux on Gaston's shelf.

Always your affectionate Childhood's Friend,

H
ENRIETTA

 

 

 

November 29, 1944

M
Y
D
EAR
R
OBERT

You remember George, our American, who left his riding boots in our attic and went away to the battle? Well, I got a letter from him a few days ago. It said: ‘Dear Henrietta, I have been wounded, getting along fine - Love, George.' The address was a military hospital somewhere in England, and the writing was so shaky that I showed the letter to Charles, who said, ‘Hum,' and handed it back again.

‘Do you think he's bad, Charles?' I said.

‘Can't say,' said Charles. ‘Seems a bit shaky.'

‘I think I ought to go and see him,' I said.

‘Now don't start tearing about all over the country every time you hear somebody's wounded,' said Charles. ‘You know we're asked not to travel.'

‘Yes, Charles.'

‘And Evensong is beginning one of her colds.'

‘Yes, Charles.'

‘You generally go down with something yourself this time of year.'

‘Yes, Charles.'

Then there was silence and Charles went on reading
The Times
, turning over the pages in an angry, rustling sort of way. Then he said: ‘If you really feel you must go, you'd better get on with it.'

‘Suppose it was Bill, wounded in America, Charles,' I said.

‘I know,' said Charles. ‘But for God's sake keep warm, Henrietta. There's enough sickness about without having you on my hands all the winter.'

As soon as I decided to go and see George in hospital, I began to be terrified of the journey. I confided my fears to Lady B, who was sympathetic and confessed that the very idea of mounting a train threw her into a frenzy, and considering she had spent the whole of her life travelling all over the world, she couldn't think why this thing had come upon her, unless it was old age.

As soon as it got about that I was going away, everybody came round to give help and advice.

Faith brought a suitcase, which she said held a lot and was light to carry, and little Mrs Simpkins brought a small flask of brandy to go in my handbag.

‘I'm told travelling is terrible,' said Mrs Savernack. ‘Take care you aren't knocked down and trampled underfoot, Henrietta.'

‘If you hear a Flying Bomb coming, throw yourself down, no matter where you are.'

‘But suppose it isn't a Flying Bomb?'

‘I dare say people will understand when you tell them you come from the West Country and don't know better.'

Next morning Charles took me to the station. On the platform I clung to him as a drowning man to his rescuer. ‘If Evensong's cold gets worse, you'll have to go to the hotel for your meals,' I said.

I clung to him

‘All right,' said Charles gloomily, ‘but who's going to feed the cat?' Then he kissed me hurriedly on the chin and left.

In the train, I remembered I had left my torch behind. The shock was so great I nearly had a swill out of Mrs Simpkins's flask. The train was late arriving at the junction where I had to change, and it was quite dark.