Loving, Living, Party Going (26 page)

'What's comical in that when you've just spoken a lie?' he demanded.

'All right then I'll not bring your old tea again that's all.' She laid her arms round his neck and gave him a powerful kiss. Putting his hands against her shoulders he pushed her away.

'You said yourself we were on a good thing an' didn't want to lose this place,' he explained.

'I never imagined you could do without me pulling your curtains.
So the first you set eyes on every new day should be me.'

'I love you that's why honey,' he said.

'O.K.,' she said, 'but you're to do the explainin' with Mother Burch mind.'

'That's a good girl. Holy smoke,' he exclaimed, 'an' there's my lad forgotten to lay their table I'll be bound. I'll be seeing you,' he said. He fairly stumbled out.

Some days later Mrs Jack unexpectedly entered the Blue Drawing Room to find her mother-in-law in tears beneath a vaulted roof painted to represent the evening sky at dusk. Mrs Tennant immediately turned her face away to hide her state. She was seated forlorn, plumb centre of this chamber, on an antique Gothic imitation of a hammock slung between four black marble columns and cunningly fashioned out of gold wire. But she had not concealed her tears in time. Mrs Jack saw. She went across at once.

'Why you poor thing,' she said rubbing the point of Mrs Tennant's shoulder with the palm of a hand.

'I'm sorry to make such a fool of myself Violet,' this older woman said from between gritted teeth and got out a handkerchief.

'I think you've been perfectly wonderful dear,' Mrs Jack suggested.

'Really I don't know how your generation bears it,' Mrs Tennant went on. She blew her nose while Mrs Jack stood ill at ease.

As she rubbed the shoulder of her husband's mother she was surrounded by milking stools, pails, clogs, the cow byre furniture all in gilded wood which was disposed around to create the most celebrated eighteenth-century folly in Eire that had still to be burned down.

'You've been absolutely magnificent Violet,' Mrs T. continued. 'Here he's been gone three days God knows where on active service if he hasn't already sailed. There's been not a whimper out of you once.'

'Don't,' his wife said sharp and gripped that shoulder in such a way as to hurt the older woman.

'No you must let me,' Mrs Tennant began again but calmer as though the pain was what she needed. 'It's so hard for my generation to talk to yours about the things one really feels. I never seem to have the chance to speak up over the great admiration I hold you in my dear.'

'You mustn't.'

Her mother-in-law ignored this though she must have recognized that it had been uttered in anguish. 'I grant you,' she went on, looking straight in front of her, 'your contemporaries have all got this amazing control of yourselves. Never showing I mean. So I just wanted to say once more if. I never say it again. Violet dear I think you are perfectly wonderful and Jack's a very lucky man.'

Violet stood as if frozen. Mrs Tennant used her handkerchief.

'There,' Mrs T. said, 'I feel better for that. I'm sorry I've been such an idiot. Oh and Violet could you let go of me. You are hurting rather.'

'Good heavens,' the young woman exclaimed gazing at the impression her nails had made on Mrs Tennant's shirt and with trembling lips.

'It's my fault entirely Violet because I invaded your privacy,' Mrs Tennant said with a positive note of satisfaction in her voice. 'Oh your generation's hard,' she added.

'But he'll be all right you'll see,' Mrs Jack began, then did not seem able to go on while she smoothed the silk where her nails had dug in. 'He'll come back,' she said finally.

'Of course he will,' Mrs Tennant agreed at once, all of a sudden brisk with assurance. But under her breath with an agony of shame the younger woman was repeating I will write to Dermot and say my darling I must never see you again never in my life my darling.

'You must forgive me for just now Violet,' the older woman said not in the least apologetic.

My darling my darling my darling, her daughter-in-law prayed in her heart to the Captain, never ever again.

'I think everything's partly to do with the servants.' Mrs Tennant announced as if drawing a logical conclusion.

'The servants?' Mrs Jack echoed, it might have been from a great distance.

'Well one gets no rest. It's always on one's mind Violet.' She got up. She began to search for dust, smelling her wetted forefinger as though there could be a smell. 'This last trouble over my cluster ring now. I spoke to Raunce again but it was most unsatisfactory.'

'I shouldn't have,' Mrs Jack murmured a trifle louder.

'I know Violet. But you do see one can't stand things hanging over one? This hateful business round the pantry boy. There's no
two ways about it. Either you can trust people or you can't and if you can't then they're distasteful to live with.'

'Yes,' Mrs Jack agreed simply. All at once she seemed to recollect 'What d'you mean quite?' she asked sharp almost in spite of herself.

'Well he said he had it, he told Raunce so.'

'Had what?' Mrs Jack demanded suddenly frantic.

Mrs Tennant swung round to face her daughter-in-law who did not raise her blue eyes. There was something hard and glittering beyond the stone of age in that other pair below the blue waved tresses. And then Mrs Tennant turned away once more.

'Why my cluster ring Violet,' she said going over to an imitation pint measure also in gilded wood and in which peacock's feathers were arranged. She lifted this off the white marble mantelpiece that was a triumph of sculptured reliefs depicting on small plaques various unlikely animals, even in one instance a snake, sucking milk out of full udders and then she blew at it delicately through pursed lips.

'Besides there's another thing,' Mrs Tennant went on, moving around amongst the historic pieces which made up this fabulous dairy of a drawing room. 'The peacocks,' she said. 'Now yesterday was perfectly dry without a drop of rain yet I couldn't see one of the birds all morning.'

'Perhaps they thought it was going to rain,' Mrs Jack proposed and drifted over to the windows. 'They don't like getting wet.'

'My dear Violet please tell me when does it ever not threaten rain in this climate? No I made enquiries. Like everything else in this house it was quite different. Not the natural explanation at all. Just as I'd feared. Because I had Raunce in and I asked him. Of course he pretended to know nothing as the servants always do,' and at this Mrs Jack winced, 'but I can't stand lies. D'you know what he wanted me to believe?'

'You said he was lying?' Mrs Jack asked faint over her shoulder.

'Well he must have been my dear. Now look at this pitchfork or lamp standard or whatever they call it.' Mrs Tennant was halted before a gold instrument cunningly fixed as so to appear leant against the wall and which had been adapted to take an oil lamp between its prongs. 'The damp has settled on the metal part which is all peeling. In spite of the fire I have kept up on account of the Cuyps. Isn't that provoking? And of course it's a museum piece. Or
that's what they say when they come down. They simply exclaim out loud when they see this room.' But her daughter-in-law did not look. 'It's all French you know,' Mrs Tennant continued, 'they say it came from France, which is why I try to impress it on the servants that they really must be careful. There'll be so little left when this war's finished. But Raunce is hopeless. D'you know what he said to me?'

'No?'

'Well Violet I'd asked him to have a word with O'Conor. You know how extremely difficult that man is. Then it came out,' and Mrs Jack drew her breath sharp, 'or not everything, just a bit probably. You see he said O'Conor had locked the peacocks up in their quarters as he termed it. Now that's very unsatisfactory of course. After all they are my peacocks as I pointed out to Raunce. I have a right to see them I should hope. They're a part of the decoration of the place. But he told me he thought O'Conor was afraid of something or other.'

'How ridiculous,' Mrs Jack exclaimed. She turned to face her mother-in-law with a look which appeared stiff with apprehension. But if Mrs Tennant noticed this she gave no sign.

'Exactly,' she said. 'Frightened of what I'd like to know? I put it to Raunce. But he couldn't or wouldn't say.'

'Which is just like the man,' the younger woman interrupted. 'Always hinting.'

'But that wasn't the lie,' Mrs Tennant said soft. 'When it came it was much more direct than that. You see as I said before I asked him to speak to O'Conor. D'you know what he answered? Sheer impertinence really. He had the cheek to stand where you are now and tell me that it was no use his going to interrogate the lampman, can't you hear him, because he couldn't understand a word he said.'

'I don't quite see,' Mrs Jack put in livelier. 'I can't catch what he says myself.'

'No more can I. That's why I wanted someone else to go. But my dear it's not for us to understand O'Conor,' Mrs Tennant explained as she replaced into its niche a fly-whisk carved out of a block of sandalwood, the handle enamelled with a reddish silver. 'We don't have to live with the servants. Not yet. It's they who condescend to stay with us nowadays. No but you're not telling me that they pass all their huge meals in utter silence. He eats with
them you know. Of course Raunce was lying. He understands perfectly what O'Conor says. There's something behind all this Violet It's detestable.'

'Raunce told you that O'Conor shut the peacocks up? But that's too extraordinary,' Mrs Jack remarked in a confident voice. She was tracing patterns on the window-pane with a purple finger nail.

'I shall get to the bottom of it,' Mrs Tennant announced. For an instant she sent a grim smile at her daughter-in-law's back. 'I shall bide my time though,' she said, then quietly left that chamber the walls of which were hung with blue silk. Mrs Jack swung round but the room was empty.

That night the servants all sat down to supper together. Mrs Welch had asked for and been granted leave to stay in Dublin overnight to consult a doctor. Her Albert had been sent to bed. By this time he was probably running naked on the steeply sloping roofs high up. Mrs Jack now looked after her children who ate with their mother and the grandparent while Miss Swift died inch by inch in the bedroom off the nursery. And because Miss Burch was still indisposed Edith as though by right took this woman's place at table.

'Well what are we waiting for?' she asked quite natural in Agatha's manner.

'Bert's just bringing in the cold joint,' Mary replied. 'Jane's lending a hand. My,' she went on, 'this certainly is nice for us girls to have company. It's a thought we both of us appreciate Mr Raunce to be invited to your supper.'

'You're welcome,' the man replied as he sharpened his carving knife against a fork. He spoke moodily.

'Come on Bert do,' Edith remarked keen to the lad when, followed by Jane carrying vegetables in Worcester dishes, he came struggling under a great weight of best beef. He cast a reproachful look in her direction but made no reply.

'If it wasn't for O'Conor being absent this could be termed a reunion,' Raunce announced pompous. 'With Miss Swift and Miss Burch confined to their quarters as they are by sickness we won't count them. Nor Mrs Welch thanks be with her 'ardening of the kidneys.'

'Charley,' Edith remonstrated.

'Pardon,' he said. He sent her a glance that seemed saturated with despair.

'I'm sure we're very happy to have you with us,' Edith said in Jane's direction. Kate watched. Her gimlet eyes narrowed.

'Because if Paddy turns up I've been charged to speak to him,' Raunce began heavy as he set about carving the joint.

'Well you know right well where he is the sad soul,' Kate replied. 'Locked up with them birds 'e's been the past ten days and only gettin' what I fetch out. Not that I defend it,' she ended.

'We can excuse him. I'd be the very last to question 'is motives,' Raunce answered who without doubt had his own reasons for leaving Paddy alone if only that he cannot have been anxious to implicate Edith in the affair of the eggs. 'Matter of that,' he continued, 'Mrs Tennant's got a lot she wants me to say and not to our friend alone. Oh no,' he said. 'For she's on about her ring still.'

'And how would that be Mr Raunce since she got it back didn't she?' Mary enquired.

'There you are,' he answered with as good reasons perhaps for not pursuing this one either. 'There you are you've said it,' he repeated rather lamely.

'It was only that man who came down upset her,' Edith explained while Albert watched. 'And you can't wonder after all. Setting everyone about the place at sixes and sevens as he did. But all's well that ends well,' she concluded.

'If it has ended,' Raunce remarked. 'A sewer rat like him should never be permitted to harass honest folk. Is that right or isn't it? What'th that you thay. Lithping like a tothpot,' he added in a wild and sudden good humour.

'Charley,' Edith called. She began to go red.

'You should have seen the expression you wore,' he said complacent, 'you should really. When he had the impudence to ask you if you'd theen a thertain thomething. D'you recollect?'

'I certainly don't,' Edith said and pouted.

But Kate took this up. 'You don't thay he thpoke like thith thurely,' she asked letting out a shriek of amusement. All of them started to laugh or giggle except Edith and Raunce's Albert.

'It's a lot of foolishness,' Edith reproved them.

'Foolithneth perhapth,' Raunce said roguish. 'But you're dead right. Whatever it may have been it was uncalled for.'

'Why Charley,' Edith went on, 'you're not going to starve yourself again. You will have your supper to-night surely?'

'No girl,' he answered but with a soft look. 'Truth is I don't feel equal to it.'

'The spuds are nice. I cooked 'em myself,' Jane explained and the girls all clucked with sympathy at him except Kate who went on with the lisping.

'If he'd 'a lithped at me I'm dead thure I'd 'a lithped back. I couldn't help mythelf.' Mary giggled. 'Oh Kate you don't thay tho,' she cried.

'Holy thmoke but you've got me goin' now,' Raunce laughed. They all began giggling once more, even Edith. But Albert simpered.