No Laughing Matter (65 page)
Read No Laughing Matter Online
Authors: Angus Wilson
Sukey wrote in answer:
‘Hugh had a good idea of what was going to happen over a year ago. Friends in high places are often useful. That’s why we moved the school. If it’s to come (and I’m pretty sure it must) the sooner the better, I say, and get it over. Senior and Middleman (who’s recovered from his pacifist measles) are all ready for it and I don’t intend to make things harder for them by holding on to them. Even P. S. makes soldierly noises, silly boy. But of course it’ll all be over before he’s reached Fifth Form. Anyway, if you’re worried about yourselves, you’d better let me find you a hotel down here to live in. The
authorities
in London will have quite enough on their hands without the elderly. Everyone says it will be comparatively bomb free down here. There’s a hotel on the other side of Exeter that might suit you
well; you wouldn’t want to be mixed up with a lot of grubby little boys, I know.
We’re still in a terrible pickle after the move here, and now that Hugh’s sole headmaster I have to give all my time to the school. They say I’m not half bad at it, but I’m determined not to become the complete headmaster’s wife. Luckily – Father will laugh – but a chap in Western Regional whose boy we’ve got for next term happened to see a piece I’d written about our days on the houseboat on the Nile. He liked it enormously-just the sort of thing when the news is so awful and everyone wants to think of the good old days. I’m going to do him a weekly series. They say my voice comes over with real authority. Who knows? I may outdo Margaret, especially as her sort of morbid sarky stuff is not the thing for this moment. Of course, I’m only joking. I enclose a typed copy of’So many tombs but only one mummy’, the piece about us on the Nile I broadcast last week. I’ve written another script about the car we had in 1928 that got stuck on Exmoor; you remember Winnie the Wolseley. I’ve got a few more in mind – all family adventures – I wonder if you can guess what they’re about from the titles:
Two hundred mums and one pot of shrimp paste
How to climb Snowdon without a tin opener
When Santa left too many cricket bats
Why can’t we take the Rhino home?
Oh, by the way, P.S. is looking forward terrifically to his Easter London visit, but do remember not to mention the wretched Gladys business. I don’t want him to know. I’ve told him she’s gone to Australia (well, it’s almost true, isn’t it?).’
Billy Pop once again remarked on the truth of La Rochefoucauld’s cynicism, but the Countess was more concerned with Sukey’s
interpretation
of her war warning.
‘As if I’d written because we were afraid! The idea!’ she told Mrs Hannapin. ‘Why, if war comes, Mr Matthews will be wanted at once for propaganda. He’ll be over military age this time, you know.’
And Billy Pop too was angry enough to write to Sukey, ‘I’m afraid I shall be too busy doing my bit to get down to West Country hotels. And your Mother won’t leave London if there’s a war, that’s certain. She’ll have the time of her life.’
As to Sukey’s broadcast they could neither of them read much of
the script she’d sent, but then she lived such a provincial, shut-off life.
‘We were in fact very much a Swiss Family Robinson; and I, in particular, felt completely “my good wife”, when Senior (then at the Awful Age) fell into the Nile and instead of coming up a Gruesome Green was fished up a Beastly Brown by our faithful Ali, for I was able by the aid of my “magic box” (I really believe Ali thought there was magic in it) to find a soap powder (quite a new discovery in those days) that took the stains out of his little white shirt and grey flannel knickers.’
Billy Pop said, almost in surprised tones: ‘This is muck.’ But the Countess insisted on reading a little further.
‘I suppose it was P. S. (then as we used to call them a Toddler) who made the biggest hit with the servants until the awful day when he learned to imitate our Beloved Goose that swam round the boat and took scraps (mostly large quantities of rice that the Lord and Master refused to eat and I had to smuggle out in envelopes or even
handkerchiefs
, for dear Ali and Mohamed were very touchy about their culinary arts, which indeed, except to Lord and Master’s taste, would have bid fair to outdo Escoffier). I noticed that P. S. was getting a number of what we had decided to call Egyptian Evil Eyes when I suddenly realized that his goose grunts which so amused us were giving offence below stairs, or perhaps I should say in the galley. Of course I knew that the Romans had sacred geese, but I had no idea …’
The Countess put the typescript down. ‘I think, living down there, she doesn’t really know what interests people.’
*
When the war came, indeed up to the invasion of France, the Countess was most active, going around with a map of London that showed where the Zeppelin bombs fell – ‘We really went through it then.’ And Billy Pop, through Margaret, sold an article to a new highbrow magazine that was about to appear. The article was called ‘A Day’s Cricket with Enoch Soames’ and contained his recollections of the poet, Stephen Philips. But in August 1940 they moved from 52 to the country hotel suggested by Sukey. As the Countess said, ‘London has enough mouths to feed.’
French
Windows
–
An
interrupted
play
[
Scene
the
drawing
room
of
Exe
Grange,
a
residential
country
hotel
in
Devonshire.
Time:
late
April
1942.
Armchairs
and
sofas
in
flowered
cretonne
loose
covers.
Curtains
of
the
same
material.
A
few
occasional
tables
on
which
are
bowls
of
daffodils
and
early
species
tulips.
A
small
wood
fire
is
burning,
but
through
the
French
windows
the
last
rays
of
a
warm
spring
sun
are
shining.
In
one
armchair,
COLONEL CHUDLEIGH,
an
old retired
officer
of
the
courteous
kind,
is
reading
Blackwood’s Magazine
at
one
of
the
tables
,
MRS LOMAX
,
a
fussy
but
sharp-eyed
old
lady
is
settled
in
a
high
chair
playing
patience.
From
outside
the
French
windows
voices
(
a
man’s
and
a
woman’s
)
can
be
heard
.]
MRS LOMAX
: Oh, dear, another session of ‘our brilliant children’! The Earl and Countess back from their evening airing.
C
OLONEL
C
HUDLEIGH
: And what he did in the Great War, Daddy. It is a bit steep.
[
The
French
windows
open
and
MRS RICKARD-MATTHEWS
,
well
preserved,
well
made-up,
well
but
hardly
suitably
dressed,
comes
in.
Nothing
about
her
would
betray
her
sixty-five
years.
She
lifts
her
husband’s
wheelchair
down
the
one
step
into
the
room.
MR
RICKARD
-
MATTHEWS
is
frail
and
shrunken,
except
for
his
face
which
is
still
ruddy,
and
the
more
cherubic
for
his
smooth
bald
head
fringed
with
a
halo
of
soft
grey
curls.
]
MRS LOMAX
: How was the sunset?
MRS RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: Oh, all right for Devonshire.
MRS LOMAX
: Don’t forget Colonel Chudleigh’s is one of the oldest families in Devonshire.
MRS RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: Oh, but you’ve travelled, haven’t you, Colonel? You’re not a country stick-in-the-mud. My aunt – the children’s great aunt – was quite a famous traveller. She was the discoverer of one of the original tulips. All these we have now are garden what its names, you know. She used to say the loveliest sunsets of all were in Arabia. Do you remember that, Billy? How Mouse always praised the Arabian sunsets? Of course, she travelled in the days when …
MR RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: Speaking of Arabia as Clara has made
us do it amuses me, Colonel, to hear all the fuss made about T. E. Lawrence these days. I met him a number of times in the middle ’twenties. In fact I often think that if I’d had time to cultivate him he might never have made an ass of himself enlisting in the Flying Corps. But I also knew F. L. Garthwaite, who was one of Allenby’s right hand men. After talking to him the Lawrence legend can only be an embarrassment. I was arguing about it with my son-
in-law
, Douglas Rootham just before he and my daughter left England …
MRS RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: Douglas is on the general staff in Cairo. He’s a brilliant archaeologist, you know, and …
MR RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: My dear girl, they wouldn’t make him a lieutenant colonel just because he can dig up fossils. No, he speaks Arabic like a native. My daughter wrote the other day …
MRS RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: Oh, Mrs Lomax, you’ll be excited to hear this. There’s a new Margaret Matthews on the way. Margaret wrote to say she’d just sent off the proofs. Two copies this time by separate post because of the submarines – special arrangements and all that, my son-in-law is in a position and so forth, although she’s famous enough in her own right…. She couldn’t say where she was but the most fascinating thing was that she’d met her brother Rupert for a talk. He’s been on a tour of all the R.A.F. stations in the Middle East. I shouldn’t be surprised if Douglas hasn’t packed her off to Jerusalem, Billy, with things in Egypt as they are. That could be where she met Rupert. I know he expected to go there. Of course in Douglas’s position he can arrange accommodation for her anywhere at a moment’s notice. Yes, it’s probably Jerusalem. She mentioned cypress trees.
MR RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: Oh, the blabbing of women, eh, Colonel? Walls have ears, my dear. I wonder if you agree with me, Colonel, in thinking that air force skills and so on are not quite so specialized as we’ve been led to believe. I’m not speaking of the bravery of these boys, of course, that’s beyond question. But the sheer skill needed. I say this because my boy Rupert who’s been an actor all his life …
MRS RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: My dear Billy, Colonel Chudleigh knows Rupert Matthews. He hasn’t lived quite out of the world. It was all they could do to stop Rupert joining up, Colonel,
although
he’s not a boy any longer. Everyone told him how much more valuable he would be entertaining the troops. At last they got me to speak to him. I simply said, ‘Rupert, don’t be silly. This war doesn’t have any star parts. It’s team work, my dear.’ Now, of course, he’s done I don’t know how many thousand miles flying, keeping morale up. And of course right up to the firing line. He insists on taking the controls.
MR RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: That’s just what I was about to say, dear. They say he’d have made a first rate pilot if he hadn’t been over age. I don’t think it can be quite such a specialized …
MRS RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: Oh, nonsense, Billy, it’s just that war brings out unexpected things in people. My youngest boy … we really thought …
MR RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: Oh, but Marcus was always artistic, Clara, and that’s what you want in camouflage work. Though I’m surprised he makes a good adjutant.
MRS LOMAX
: And how is your
other
daughter, Mrs
Rickard-Matthews
?
MRS RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: Oh, I told her not to think less of herself just because she’s not in the forces. Running a school’s vital war work, don’t you think, Colonel Chudleigh?
MR RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: And a full time job. We’ve expressly forbidden her to waste her time coming over to us. It’s the
youngsters
that matter, not those who have got into the sere and yellow stage.
MRS LOMAX
: No, I didn’t mean Mrs Pascoe. I always see her at the Violet tearooms when I go into Exeter. She’s a great elevenses devotee. I meant your other daughter who came to you for Christmas after being away so long? Has she found war work yet? I remember there was some difficulty. I do think nothing should prevent …
MRS RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: Oh, that was only a temporary bother. Billy pulled strings, didn’t you, darling?
MR RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: Yes, a very tough but powerful string at the War Office to be exact.
MRS LOMAX
: As long as it’s not the Treasury. We’re finding it difficult enough to pay for this war as it is, eh, Colonel?
MRS RICKARD-MATTHEWS
[
losing
immediately
all
her
bright
manner,
fierce
and
aloof
]:
Either you’re too stupid to know what
you’re saying, Mrs Lomax, or you should be careful not to be slanderous.
MRS LOMAX
: Slanderous! Now, Mrs Rickard-Matthews, what is the point in pretending? I remembered your daughter’s name at once. Didn’t I, Colonel? The whole case. Of course when she was here I was very careful…. She’d paid the price. No one wanted to hound her.
COLONEL CHUDLEIGH
: Now really, I don’t think this is necessary, Mrs Lomax. Mr and Mrs Rickard-Matthews have all our
sympathies
as we said at the time.
MRS LOMAX
: But that’s exactly it. It’s so much better not to bottle these things up. When I think how I should have felt if my dear Isobel … but then of course her father was as straight as a die in money matters …
MR RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: I don’t know what you’re insinuating, but …
MRS RICKARD-MATTHEWS
[
taking
his
hand
]:
Oh, Billy, dear, you don’t have to explain yourself to every Tom, Dick and Harry. My dear, you’re an artist, a man of the world, don’t apologize for it.
MR RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: You are right, Clara. As always. [
He
presses
her
hand
.]
Just wheel me along to our room, my dear. We may as well put on our glad rags, even if it is only vegetable pie for dinner. Dressing for dinner is an old established British custom when you’re living among savages. [
Smiling
boyishly
at
his
joke
he
is
wheeled
away
by
his
proud,
handsome,
straightbacked
wife.
As
they
reach
the
door,
she
turns,
smiling
sweetly.
]
MRS RICKARD-MATTHEWS
: Colonel Chudleigh, would you please explain the laws of slander to Mrs Lomax? I shall expect an apology, you see, when we’re all dressed and civilized and in our right minds.
[
Curtain.
From,
the
darkness
amid
the
rustle
of
papers
and
clanking
of
tea
cups
comes
a
woman’s
voice:
‘Oh
I
think
she’s
wonderful.
That
exit!
She
moves
so
beautifully.
None
of
the
young
ones
today
can
do
it.
And
they
say
she’s
almost
seventy.’
As
the
lights
go
up
in
the
auditorium
another
woman’s
voice
is
heard:
‘Her
acting
always
seems
a
little
hard
to
me.
But
really
he
is
amazing.
That
little
chuckle
and
that
smile,
he
hasn’t
changed
since
I
was
a
schoolgirl.
And
he
gives
such
a
polished,
quiet
performance.
’]