The Complete Short Stories of W. Somerset Maugham - II - The World Over (95 page)

Then the blow fell. Fred was arrested for stealing money from the letters he collected. Many people, to save themselves the trouble of buying postal orders, put notes in their envelopes, and it wasn’t difficult to tell that they were there. Fred went up for trial, pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to two years’ hard labour. Gracie went to the trial. Up to the last moment she had hoped that he would be able to prove his innocence. It was a dreadful shock to her when he pleaded guilty. She was not allowed to see him. He went straight from the dock to the prison van. She went home and, locking herself up in her bedroom, threw herself on the bed and wept. When Mr Carter came back from the shop Gracie’s mother went up to her room.

“Gracie, you’re to come downstairs,” she said. “Your father wants to speak to you.”

Gracie got up and went down. She did not trouble to dry her eyes.

“Seen the paper?” he said, holding out to her the
Evening News.
She didn’t answer.

“Well, that’s the end of that young man,” he went on harshly.

They too, Grade’s parents, had been shocked when Fred was arrested, but she was so distressed, she was so convinced that everything could be explained, that they hadn’t had the heart to tell her that she must have nothing more to do with him. But now they felt it time to have things out with her.

“So that’s where the money came from for those dinners and theatres. And the car. I thought it funny he should have a friend who’d lend him a car on Sundays when he’d be wanting it himself. He hired it, didn’t he?”

“I suppose so,” she answered miserably. “I just believed what he told me.”

“You’ve had a lucky escape, my girl, that’s all I can say.”

“He only did it because he wanted to give me a good time. He didn’t want me to think I couldn’t have everything as nice when I was with him as what I’ve been used to at home.”

“You’re not going to make excuses for him, I hope. He’s a thief, that’s what he is.”

“I don’t care,” she said sullenly.

“You don’t care? What d’you mean by that?”

“Exactly what I say. I’m going to wait for him and the moment he comes out I’m going to marry him.”

Mrs Carter gave a gasp of horror.

“Gracie, you can’t do a thing like that,” she cried. “Think of the disgrace. And what about us? We’ve always held our heads high. He’s a thief, and once a thief always a thief.”

“Don’t go on calling him a thief,” Gracie shrieked, stamping her foot with rage. “What he did he did just because he loved me. I don’t care if he is a thief. I love him more than I ever loved him. You don’t know what love is. You waited ten years to marry Pa just so as an old woman should leave you some money. D’you call that love?”

“You leave your ma out of this,” Mr Carter shouted. Then an idea occurred to him and he gave a piercing glance. “Have you
got
to marry the feller?”

Gracie blushed furiously.

“No. There’s never been anything of that sort. And not through any fault of mine either. He loved me too much. He didn’t want to do anything perhaps he’d regret afterwards.”

Often on summer evenings in the country when they’d been lying in a field in one another’s arms, mouth to mouth, her desire had been as intense as his. She knew how much he wanted her and she was ready to give him what he asked. But when things got too desperate he’d suddenly jump up and say:

“Come on, let’s walk.”

He’d drag her to her feet. She knew what was in his mind. He wanted to wait till they were married. His love had given him a delicacy of sentiment that he’d never known before. He couldn’t make it out himself, but he had a funny sort of feeling about her, he felt that if he had her before marriage it would spoil things. Because she guessed what was in his heart she loved him all the more.

“I don’t know what’s come over you,” moaned Mrs Carter. “You was always such a good girl. You’ve never given us a day’s uneasiness.”

“Stop it, Ma,” said Mr Carter violently. “We’ve got to get this straight once and for all. You’ve got to give up this man, see? I’ve got me own position to think of and if you think I’m going to have a gaol-bird for a son-in-law you’d better think again. I’ve had enough of this nonsense. You’ve got to promise me that you’ll have nothing more to do with the feller ever.”

“D’you think I’m going to give him up now? How often d’you want me to tell you I’m going to marry him the moment he gets out?”

“All right, then you can get out of my house and get out pretty damn quick. And stay out.”

“Pa!” cried Mrs Carter.

“Shut up.”

“I’ll be glad to go,” said Gracie.

“Oh, will you? And how d’you think you’re going to live?”

“I can work, can’t I? I can get a job at Payne and Perkins. They’ll be glad to have me.”

“Oh, Gracie, you couldn’t go and work in a shop, you can’t demean yourself like that,” said Mrs Carter.

“Will you shut up, Ma,” shouted Mr Carter, beside himself now with rage. “Work, will you? You that’s never done a stroke of work in your life except that tomfoolery at the college. Bright idea it was of your ma’s to give you an education. Fat lot of good it’ll be to you when you’ve got to stand on your feet for hours and got to be civil and pleasant to a lot of old trouts who just try and give you all the trouble they can just to show how superior they are. I bet you’ll like it when you’re bawled out by the manageress because you’re not bright and snappy. All right, marry your gaol-bird. I suppose you know you’ll have to keep him too. You don’t think anyone’s going to give him a job, do you, not with his record. Get out, get out, get out.”

He had worked himself up to such a pitch of fury that he sank panting into a chair. Mrs Carter, frightened, poured out a glass of water and gave him some to drink. Gracie slipped out of the room.

Next day, when her father had gone to work and her mother was out shopping, she left the house with such effects as she could get into a suit-case. Payne and Perkins was a large department store in the Brixton Road, and with her good appearance and pleasant manner she found no difficulty in getting taken on. She was put in the ladies’ lingerie. For a few days she stayed at the Y. W.C.A. and then arranged to share a room with one of the girls who worked with her.

Ned Preston saw Fred in the evening of the day he went to gaol. He found him shattered, but only because of Gracie. He took his thieving very lightly.

“I had to do the right thing by her, didn’t I? Her people, they didn’t think I was good enough for her; I wanted to show them I was just as good as they were. When we went up to the West End I couldn’t give her a sandwich and half of bitter in a pub, why, she’s never been in a pub in her life, I
had
to take her to a restaurant. If people are such fools as to put money in letters, well, they’re just asking for it.”

But he was frightened. He wasn’t sure that Gracie would see it like that.

“I’ve got to know what she’s going to do. If she chucks me now-well, it’s the end of everything for me, see? I’ll find some way of doing meself in, I swear to God I will.”

He told Ned the whole story of his love for Gracie.

“I could have had her over and over again if I’d wanted to. And I did want to and so did she. I knew that. But I respected her, see? She’s not like other girls. She’s one in a thousand, I tell you.”

He talked and talked. He stormed, he wept. From that confused torrent of words emerged one thing very clearly. A passionate, a frenzied love. Ned promised that he would see the girl.

“Tell her I love her, tell her that what I did I just did because I wanted her to have the best of everything, and tell her I just can’t live without her.”

As soon as he could find time Ned Preston went to the Carters’ house, but when he asked for Gracie the maid who opened the door told him that she didn’t live there any more. Then he asked to see her mother.

“I’ll go and see if she’s in.”

He gave the maid his card, thinking the name of his club engraved in the corner would impress Mrs Carter enough to make her willing to see him. The maid left him at the door, but in a minute or two asked him to come in. He was shown into the stiff and little-used sitting-room. Mrs Carter kept him waiting for some time and when she came in, holding his card in the tips of her fingers, he guessed it was because she had thought fit to change her dress. The black silk she wore was evidently a dress for occasions. He told her his connexion with Wormwood Scrubs and said that he had to do with a man named Frederick Manson. The moment he mentioned the name Mrs Carter assumed a hostile attitude.

“Don’t speak to me of that man,” she cried. “A thief, that’s what he is. The trouble he’s caused us. They ought to have given him five years, they ought.”

“I’m sorry he’s caused you trouble,” said Ned mildly. “Perhaps if you’d give me a few facts I might help to straighten things out.”

Ned Preston certainly had a way with him. Perhaps Mrs Carter was impressed because he was a gentleman. “Class he is,” she probably said to herself. Anyhow it was not long before she was telling him the whole story. She grew upset as she told it and began to cry.

“And now she’s gone and left us. Run away. I don’t know how she could bring herself to do a thing like that. God knows, we love her. She’s all we’ve got and we done everything in the world for her. Her pa never meant it when he told her to get out of the house. Only she was so obstinate. He got in a temper, he always was a quick-tempered man, he was just as upset as I was when we found she’d gone. And d’you know what she’s been and gone and done? Got herself a job at Payne and Perkins. Mr Carter can’t abide them. Cutting prices all the time they are. Unfair competition, he calls it. And to think of our Gracie working with a lot of shop-girls-oh, it’s so humiliating.”

Ned made a mental note of the store’s name. He hadn’t been at all sure of getting Grade’s address out of Mrs Carter.

“Have you seen her since she left you?” he asked.

“Of course I have. I knew they’d jump at her at Payne and Perkins, a superior girl like that, and I went there, and there she was, sure enough-in the ladies’ lingerie. I waited outside till closing time and then I spoke to her. I asked her to come home. I said her pa was willing to let bygones be bygones. And d’you know what she said? She said she’d come home if we never said a word against Fred and if we was prepared to have her marry him as soon as ever he got out. Of course I had to tell her pa. I never saw him in such a state, I thought he was going to have a fit, he said he’d rather see her dead at his feet than married to that gaol-bird.”

Mrs Carter again burst into tears and as soon as he could Ned Preston left her. He went to the department store, up to the ladies’ lingerie, and asked for Grace Carter. She was pointed out to him and he went up to her.

“Can I speak to you for a minute? I’ve come from Fred Manson.”

She went deathly white. For a moment it seemed that she could not utter a word.

“Follow me, please.”

She took him into a passage smelling of disinfectants which seemed to lead to the lavatories. They were alone. She stared at him anxiously.

“He sends you his love. He’s worried about you. He’s afraid you’re awfully unhappy. What he wants to know really is if you’re going to chuck him.”

“Me?” Her eyes filled with tears, but on her face was a look of ecstasy. “Tell him that nothing matters to me as long as he loves me. Tell him I’d wait twenty years for him if I had to. Tell him I’m counting the days till he gets out so as we can get married.”

For fear of the manageress she couldn’t stay away from her work for more than a minute or two. She gave Ned all the loving messages she could get into the time to give Fred Manson. Ned didn’t get to the Scrubs till nearly six. The prisoners are allowed to put down their tools at five-thirty and Fred had just put his down. When Ned entered the cell he turned pale and sank on to the bed as though his anxiety was such that he didn’t trust his legs. But when Ned told him his news he gave a gasp of relief. For a while he couldn’t trust himself to speak.

“I knew you’d seen her the moment you came in. I smelt her.”

He sniffed as though the smell of her body were strong in his nostrils, and his face was as it were a mask of desire. His features on a sudden seemed strangely blurred.

“You know, it made me feel quite uncomfortable so that I had to look the other way,” said Ned Preston when he told us this, with a cackle of his shrill laughter. “It was sex in its nakedness all right.”

Fred was an exemplary prisoner. He worked well, he gave no trouble. Ned suggested books for him to read and he took them out of the library, but that was about as far as he got.

“I can’t get on well with them somehow,” he said. “I start reading and then I begin thinking of Gracie. You know, when she kisses you ordinary-like-oh, it’s so sweet, but when she kisses you really, my God, it’s lovely.”

Fred was allowed to see Gracie once a month, but their meetings, with a glass screen between, under the eyes of a warder, were so painful that after several visits they agreed it would be better if she didn’t come any more. A year passed. Owing to his good behaviour he could count on a remittance of his sentence and so would be free in another six months. Gracie had saved every penny she could out of her wages and now as the time approached for Fred’s release she set about getting a home ready for him. She took two rooms in a house and furnished them on the hire purchase system. One room of course was to be their bedroom and the other the living-room and kitchen. There was an old-fashioned range in it and this she had taken out and replaced by a gas-stove. She wanted everything to be nice and new and clean and comfortable. She took pains to make the two little rooms bright and pretty. To do all this she had to go without all the barest necessities of existence and she grew thin and pale. Ned suspected that she was starving herself and when he went to see her took a box of chocolates or a cake so that she should have at least something to eat. He brought the prisoner news of what Gracie was doing and she made him promise to give him accurate accounts of every article she bought. He took fond, more than fond, passionate messages from one to the other. He was convinced that Fred would go straight in future and he got him a job as commissionaire from a firm that had a chain of restaurants in London. The wages were good and by calling taxis or fetching cars he would be able to make money on the side. He was to start work as soon as he came out of gaol.