Read The Present and the Past Online
Authors: Ivy Compton-Burnett
âIt is time they did so,' said his father. âIt ought to have entered our minds.'
âWhat does their own mother think?' said Cassius, in a tone of taking a step that would have to be taken.
âI have not the experience that would enable me to judge,' said Catherine.
âFlavia is a sound arbiter of such things.'
Catherine's silence somehow gave full consent.
âNow do you find them much altered after all these years?'
âAs much as I thought to find them. I should have recognized Fabian. Guy was only two when I left.'
âWell, they have not wanted a mother,' said Cassius, more loudly. âHave you ever wanted a mother, boys? Can you honestly say you have felt any lack in your lives?'
âWe have always wanted one in a way,' said Fabian, rising in his turn to an effort that was before him. âWe always knew we hadn't one. Mater always let us know. But she has been the same to all of us.'
âShe has indeed. That is a thing that does not need saying, and that you are right to say.'
âI used to wonder, when I first knew about things, if she would get tired of it. But she never did.'
âNow there is a tribute, Flavia. What woman could ask more than that?'
Flavia heard her husband with her eyes down.
âBut that kind of stepmother makes you wonder about a real mother,' said Fabian.
Catherine also looked down and silence followed.
âWell, Catherine, how about your brother and sister?' said Cassius. âDo you find much change in them?'
âNo, very little. They are nine years older and nothing more.'
âYes, that is what I thought. Nine years older and nothing more,' said Cassius, somehow giving the words another meaning.
A faint sound of amusement came from Fabian, and Catherine smiled at him and looked away.
âI declare he is like you, Catherine,' said Cassius. âI caught it at that moment when you both smiled. There was a definite flash of resemblance.'
âYou used to say we were alike. I could even see it myself. And I think I see it now.'
âAnd Guy? Do you see any likeness in him?'
âNo. Neither to you nor to me.'
Flavia looked up at the coupling of the words.
âI suppose some ancestor accounts for him,' said Cassius. âThere is a portrait in the hall that is like both him and Tobias, our youngest boy.'
âI see likenesses in all of them to their parents and each other,' said Flavia.
âYes, my wife is a great person for giving equal attention to all. What is done for one, is done for the rest. You can be sure of that.'
âI am sure of it,' said Catherine.
âNow what about the question of Fabian's going to school? We feel he is getting too old for this life at home. So he is only to have another year of it.'
âI did not know there had been any question.'
âIt does not sound as if there had,' said Flavia.
âA year is a long time,' said Guy.
Catherine looked up, arrested by something in the tone.
âCould they not go together?'
âI fear they could not,' said Flavia. “There are two years between them.'
âWould not anything be better than a parting?'
âNothing would be worse than a breach of convention,' said Cassius. âYou don't know a boy's world.'
âNo, I do not,' said Catherine.
Guy looked from his mother to his stepmother, and in a moment looked again.
âWell, Guy, are you weighing the difference between them?' said Cassius, in a tone that somehow addressed the company. âYou are a fortunate boy to have two mothers. So far from having less than other boys, you have twice as much.'
A faint laugh from Catherine seemed to carry a load of memories.
âWell, that was the line of the boy's thought. And I declare he sets us an example. He is behaving in a natural manner, and I don't blame him. We cannot go on in this stilted fashion, behaving as if we had something to be ashamed of. It gives a false impression of our family life, and of the atmosphere in which the boys have been brought up. Now, Fabian, can you honestly say that this is our usual situation?'
âNo, but the thing that is happening is not usual.'
âAnd you think it justifies the change?'
âWell, I think it makes it natural.'
âAnd what do you think, Guy?'
âI think it does too.'
âAh, it is a great occasion for you. A unique moment in your lives. A great many people live and die without an experience on this scale. You will be able to think and talk of it when you are a man.'
âI don't expect we shall ever talk of it, except to each other,' said Guy, with tears in his voice.
âNow whatever is it?' said his father. âHe is a strange child, Catherine. One never knows what is in his mind. Do you know what it is, Fabian?'
âHe doesn't know which mother he belongs to most. He doesn't know which he should like the best. He can never be sure abqut things.'
âOh, that is it, is it? That is it, my poor little son. Come to your father,' said Cassius, drawing the boy to his side and continuing with his arm about him. âFather knows what you feel. But things will settle themselves. You need not worry about them. Just take your feelings as they come. They will alter and take their shape. You are not responsible for them. Take each day by itself.'
âThere are so many days,' said Guy.
âBut only one at a time. “Sufficient for the day is the evil thereof.” You must remember that. Well, what have I said now? What is there for you all to laugh at? I shall be afraid to open my mouth. And that will be a pity, as it seems that no one else can do so.'
âTwo mothers should be sufficient for any day,' said Flavia, âwhen it is the usual provision for two lifetimes.'
âWell, I can't tell you which to like the better, my boy,' said Cassius, relinquishing his son. âNot even Father can do that. Just love them in different ways; that is my advice.'
âYou love Mater better,' said Catherine, in a low tone. âBecause she is the mother you know. Because she will always be the mother you knew first.'
âYes, I do now. But perhaps I shall get to know you.'
âTake each day as it comes,' said his father again. âThat is the only thing.'
âGuy could never do that,' said Fabian.
âAnd neither could I,' said Flavia. âLife is not a matter of days. Each one is a part of the whole.'
âWell, everyone knows that,' said her husband. âWhy state such a thing as if it were a philosophic truth?'
âThe separate days, rooted in the past, carrying the future,' said Catherine, as if to herself.
Guy looked again from her to Flavia, and the latter caught his eye and gave him a smile. He relaxed with a sigh, and Catherine saw the interplay and smiled from one to the other.
âWell, it seems a happy occasion enough,' said Cassius, with
his eyes on them. âI don't see anything sad or sinister about it. Does anyone? Do you, Fabian?'
âNo, but I think it ought to have a description of its own.'
âWell, how would you describe it?'
âWell, it is one I have always imagined. And it does what we wanted for us. We are getting to know...'
âMother,' said Flavia, in a full, kind tone. âThat is what you will call her. It is what you called her from the first. That is why I was called “Mater”, if you remember.'
âWe do remember, my dear,' said Cassius. âAnd it has become a title of honour for you. We all recognize it.'
âIs it better to be called “Mother” than “Mater”?' said Guy.
âWhich would you choose?' said his stepmother.
âWell, “they both mean the same thing. I think “Mater”.'
âThat has the meaning for him,' said Catherine.
âWhich would be your choice, Fabian?' said his father.
âIt would depend on what was the custom. It is that that makes the difference.'
âYes, it is that,' said Catherine.
âBut your sacrifice is not wasted, Flavia,' said Cassius, loudly. âNo honest sacrifice ever is. It has its own meaning for you, and so for other people.'
âI doubt if the one follows from the other. It seems to me that it may be wasted. But it was not very great.'
âBut it was nagging and insistent,' said Cassius, in a tone that seemed to fit his words. âStriking you where it made you shrink and shiver, at every turn! But it won you your husband's gratitude.'
âFabian remembered his mother. Some decision had to be made. I daresay it was the right one.'
âIt was, my dear, it was; the one that took no account of yourself. That is always the right one.'
âI remember her now,' said Fabian. âAs she was when I first knew her, or as I thought she was.'
âWell, well, the years have gone by since then,' said Cassius. âLook at the difference they have made in you. They can't pass over other people. They have not passed over your father.'
There were sounds outside the door of the approach of the younger children. After the interval necessary for Eliza to set Toby down and insist on his entrance, it opened to admit them. Henry and Megan, with an air of following directions, came up and shook hands with Catherine. Toby stood still and surveyed her.
âShake hands with Mrs Clare,' said Cassius.
âNo,' said his son.
âIs she Mrs Clare?' said Henry.
âYou heard what was said,' said his grandfather.
âI thought Mater was that.'
âSo now you know the whole, my boy.'
âFather and Henry both “my boy”,' said Toby.
âCome, do what Father tells you,' said Cassius.
âHow do you do?' said Toby into space, making a movement of shaking hands.
There was some mirth, and he appeared to search his memory.
âQuite well. Thank you. Fine day,' he said, and turned and looked at Catherine.
âLady,' he said, in a tone of suggestion, and turned away.
âOught he not to do as he is told?' said Cassius.
âHe ought to be what he is,' said Catherine.
âAh, you missed those stages in your children, Catherine. That is what you are thinking of. I can read your mind like a book. It lies open before me. But they have wanted for nothing. You could have done no more for them.'
âI could have had more from them.'
âWell, well, that can't be helped now. You must just forget it.'
âForget it?' said Catherine, just audibly.
âNow they are older, they have more need of you.'
âI have need of them. I must be on my guard.'
âWell, let them speak for themselves. Now, Fabian, would you rather have one mother or two?'
âI would have chosen always to have my own. But as things are, I see I want them both.'
âAnd you, Guy?' said his father.
âHe wants the mother he has always had. And he will always have her,' said Catherine.
Guy suddenly rose and went to his stepmother and buried his face on her shoulder.
âWell, it is natural, my boy,' said Cassius. âAnd we honour you for having the feelings. And we honour you for being able to show them. It is a thing not given to us all. Well, Flavia, you do not come out of it with nothing.'
Guy was so far from honouring himself that he could not lift his face.
âWhat relation is she to us?' said Henry, indicating Catherine.
âNo relation, my boy. She is the elder boys' mother.'
âWhy isn't she our stepmother, if our mother is theirs?'
âMater has never been a stepmother to them. She has been a real mother.'
âBut I mean in a legal sense.'
âOh, you do, do you?' said Cassius, glancing at Catherine. âSo â you have come to that.'
âIt is not the same,' said Megan. âTheir mother isn't Father's wife. He can only have one at a time.'
âAh, they are a pair, Catherine. They write poems and do I don't know what. I don't know what to make of them sometimes. I can hardly believe they are my children.'
âYou said that Megan didn't write the poem,' said Henry. âSo it does seem strange that she is your child.'
âOh, it does, does it? That is what you would say. And what about you? Are you the natural child for me?'
âI don't think I am. We are too different.'
âAnd where does all this difference lie?'
âWell, you don't know the truth about things, and I have always known.'
âWell, give me an example of all this truth. You cannot have seen so much.'
âI have seen some today, though it is supposed to be a day of happiness. Fabian's mother is here, and it makes him see he has never had her. And Guy doesn't know which mother is really his.'
âOh, come, two mothers are enough for anyone. I think they are fortunate boys.'
âYes, that is what you would think.'
âYou can see her feeling the truth,' said Megan. âI mean Fabian's mother.'
âWell, upon my word. This is what a parent has to face. You are fortunate to have missed some of it, Catherine.'
âNo, I am not fortunate.'
âWell, no, I suppose you are not. But there are two sides to every question. And I don't think you will have this sort of thing with Guy. He doesn't seem so full of it somehow.'
âYou always say he is backward,' said Megan.
âWell, I am sure I ought to be glad of it. It is a fault on the right side. If I ever found any fault with it, I retract what I said. Give me a natural child.'
âYou haven't found out you like him as he is, until he has his mother, and it doesn't matter,' said Henry.
âWhy, the better things are, the worse you make them. There is no sense in such forcing of things. Your words mean nothing. Well, well, my little son, come to your father. If you must bear the troubles of the world, you want his help, and you shall have it. You have chosen a hard course. I wish you had not, for your own sake.'