The golden straw, p.19
The Golden Straw, page 19
‘Aunt Phoebe!’
‘Oh you, Steve Montane, you’re not going to shut me up! Anyway, you only come when it suits you; you should be here all the time.’ And on this the dowdy, grey-clad body swung around and marched into the hall, leaving Lady Montane to excuse her, saying quietly, ‘I am sorry. She is not usually so rude. She’s been upset this morning. I hope…’
‘Oh, please!’ Emily was smiling now. ‘Don’t apologise. She’s…well, she’s rather refreshing.’
‘Oh, that’s a new one for her,’ said Sir Arthur Montane now. ‘One day there’ll be a startling court case, and I’ll be in the wrong seat—in fact, in the dock because I’ve drowned her in the mere.’
‘Do that, Pa,’ Steve was nodding at his father, ‘and I’ll see you get off because of extenuating circumstances.’
They were in the hall and Emily stood for a moment looking about her. The hall in number thirty-five was large, but it wouldn’t have taken up one third of the space of this one. And then there was the atmosphere, created by the low and beamed ceiling, the broad, shallow oak stairway leading from it that was uncarpeted, as was, she realised, the hall floor. She was standing on a rug and there were others lying around on stone flags.
‘Come this way, my dear.’
Emily followed her hostess up the stairs and along a narrow gallery from which led a number of doors.
‘Be careful, dear, there’s a step down. This house is all steps up or steps down. Even after years of usage one forgets about them and then has a tumble. Now, I hope you find what is necessary.’ She pointed to a wash-hand stand and then to a dressing table. ‘Will you excuse me while I leave you for a few minutes? I must demand that the horde come in, else lunch could be put back to whatever time they felt hungry. Then Cook would carry out the threat she’s been holding over my head for years.’
She laughed, a gay, youthful laugh, denying her white hair, as did her lovely pale skin.
Left alone, Emily looked around the room: it held a four-poster bed from which hung rose-coloured drapes, and they were so fresh and new-looking that they shouted at the old heavy wardrobe and large matching wash-hand stand and dressing table. There was a couch at the foot of the bed and an easy chair near the window, both with tapestry seats and these much worn. The whole room gave her a sensation of years of use and wear…and comfort. Moreover, at the end of the room, there was a half-open door that showed a water-closet.
She took off her hat and dustcoat and laid them on the bed; then she washed her hands and combed her hair. Afterwards she sat for a moment in the chair near the window and gazed out towards a large orchard. It was well set out with paths between the trees, and as she gazed there came into her mind a strange thought: if she had come to some place like this to recuperate, how different her life might have been. One thing was certain: it would have held no emptiness, and her heart would not be aching as it was now.
She rearranged the overskirt on the front of her dove-grey coloured dress, then went out of the room and into a commotion; for pushing and laughing up the stairs came a number of children, only to come to a stop at the stairhead and stare at her, while a middle-aged woman appeared and cried at them, ‘Behave yourselves! Where’s your manners?’ and a man disengaged himself from those now appearing in the hall and bounded up the stairs, saying, ‘Oh, I’d better explain the horde and who they belong to. By the way, I’m Matthew. I have the honour of being the eldest. How d’you do?’
They shook hands, and then he turned and, pointing to a rather lanky boy and a chubby girl, he said, ‘For my sins those are the twins, Mickey and Meg. Twelve in years and twenty-four in devilment. And that is James.’ A smaller boy grinned at her. ‘And this is Flora, the least of the tribe.’ He ruffled the fair-haired little girl’s curls. ‘And those three are Susie’s. That’s William, the cherub, ten years old; and here’s some more twins. They run in the family. Betty and Nell, imps as ever were.’ Then, turning to the woman, he said, ‘Nanny, get them all out of my sight. I’ve had enough of them for one day.’
‘We’re coming down to tea!’ This was a chorus from his twins, and he shouted back at them. ‘We’ll see about that.’ Then, his voice lower, he turned to Emily, saying, ‘You must think we are a weird outfit,’ then lowering his voice even further, he said, ‘I understand you’ve met Aunt Phoebe.’
Her voice was as low as his as she answered, ‘Yes; but I knew about her long before I made her acquaintance.’
He laughed. ‘Come down and meet the rest of us,’ he said.
In the hall he introduced her to Cissie, a stout, middle-aged woman. She had keen eyes and a bright smile and she said, ‘I’m very pleased to meet you. I’ve heard about you and your hats. Phoebe tells me you’ve come in an extra large one. You must show it to me. I love hats, but I’ve got a very mean husband.’
‘Huh!’ grunted her very mean husband, but then called across the hall, ‘Vera, stop arguing and come and meet Mrs Ratcliffe.’
Vera came, accompanied by her husband John, and also Steve; and after saying, ‘Hello, there. How are you?’ to which Emily replied, ‘Very well, thank you,’ she asked, ‘How on earth do you put up with him?’ and thumbed towards Steve. ‘He’s ignorant, rude, and unattractive. And I should know because I was stuck with him from when he was a baby.’
‘I’m John,’ said a quiet voice. ‘I don’t know how I got into this family. The only thing I can tell you and warn you against is Sundays. Always, if you can, have an excuse not to come on a Sunday.’
‘Well, why do you?’ This came from a bushy-haired, quite good-looking woman in her thirties. ‘It’s only because it’s the only decent meal you have in a week. By the way, I’m Susie. For my sins I’m the mother of William and the twins, Betty and Nell.’
‘Well, now, you’ve all had your say, but she won’t remember one from the other.’
Emily looked at Steve, saying, ‘Who says I won’t? I already know there are two sets of twins, seven children altogether, and that I have met Matthew, Vera, John…’
‘Mistress says meal’s on the table,’ a voice came from a corridor down which a middle-aged maid was now disappearing, followed by a younger one, who was grinning widely.
The dining room, like the hall, was beamed. It was a long room. It had to be to take the dining table. There were eleven of them seated, but it could take as many again. And for the next hour Emily forgot the weight on her heart, for she laughed and she listened and she learnt quite a lot, not least about Doctor Steve Montane.
First of all she learnt that there were members of the family absent: the two younger sons, Raymond and Charles, were both in America, and there were younger daughters still, Kate and Maggie. Kate was married to a solicitor in Devon. Maggie was married to a laird in Scotland. But it seemed they would all be together for Christmas, even the two from America.
At one point Cissie, leaning across the table and above the buzz of conversation, said to Emily, ‘Have you always been in the hat trade?’
‘Yes, and my mother, too. I used to go with her when I was a child and sort out the ribbons and things.’
‘Steve says you’ve got a fine establishment, not a shop, but a sort of house, or houses.’
‘Well, one is used for business and the other as my home.’
‘I think all women should have careers. I’m all for it, but we’re just used as breeders.’
‘That’s what you were made for,’ came from the far end of the table; and Cissie answered, ‘Well, elephant ears, let me inform you there’s a change coming and it’s already in the air.’
‘Well, that’s the best place for it. If God had intended women to have careers He would have given them brains.’
‘Oh!’ Cissie’s hand went towards the glass water jug, and it seemed only that her mother’s voice crying now ‘Cissie! Cissie! Stop it. You know what happens? You’ll only get the worse of it,’ deterred its flight.
And Steve, who was sitting opposite Emily, said, ‘What did I tell you? I warned you they were savages. They’ve never been away from this neck of the woods. They’re hardly civilised.’
Now Vera put in loudly, ‘That’s what old Parson Horner said this morning. “Why collect money for the natives when this country is so uncivilised?” and promptly forgot his theme and resorted to mythology: I’m sure he’s only kept on through the patronage of the Hall and because Lord Bias believes in feeding the souls of the workers on his farms.’
‘Well, he’d get a better reward in heaven, which is what he’s after, if he paid his workmen a living wage, enough to feed their bodies, and build them decent habitations, not the stinking sties some of them live in. They talk about the condition of the pit folk. Their houses are palaces compared to that lot on the high bank.’
‘Now, now,’ said Sir Arthur from the top of the table, ‘no politics, Steve. We’ve been through all this.’
‘And we’ll be through it again, Pa, and more as time goes on. You’ll see, you’ll see.’ The laughter had gone from the table. ‘You expect to come across hovels and ten sleeping in a room in the cities, but in parishes like this…’
‘Well, if you’re so concerned, Stevie, you could see to their bodies in your own way, because old Raymore is retiring, and when he goes, the nearest medical help will be in the town, ten miles away.’
There was a lighter note now all round as voices came at Steve, saying, ‘Now there, you could put some of your theories into practice.’ This was from Matthew; and Cissie’s husband, Harry Spencer, added, ‘That’s an idea; and we could all have our medical treatment free. What do you say, Father-in-law?’
They all looked towards Sir Arthur and he, looking down the table towards his son, said, ‘I have found that it would be easier to turn the wind from north to south than turn Steve’s mind from the direction he had set it.’ And with all eyes now turned on him, Steve laughed shortly before saying, ‘You seem to know me well, Daddy. Yet I wouldn’t go as far as to agree with you wholeheartedly. Things happen that turn lives upside down. But as far as I can see ahead my course is set, and the wind is in the right direction.’
It became noticeable to Emily that during the whole course of the meal Aunt Phoebe hadn’t opened her mouth, except to eat. But now her voice came into it, holding a soft, plaintive note as she said, ‘But it would be lovely if Stevie doctored us all, and round about, too. They need a good doctor round about, especially in the village.’
‘Now, Phoebe’—it was Lady Montane speaking—‘you know that Steve can’t come back; he’s needed in the town. There are a lot of sickly people there.’
‘Well, there are a lot of sickly people here.’ The voice had changed. ‘And I’m one of them. There’s different places to feel sick in besides your stomach; and he understands that.’
It seemed that Cissie was out to save the day by saying, ‘Who’s having tea or coffee in the garden? We might as well enjoy it before the horde comes down again.’
‘That’s a good idea, Cissie,’ her mother said. ‘We’ll have it in the garden. It’s the first really warm day we’ve had so far this year.’ …
As Emily, with Steve by her side, walked across the hall towards the front door, she was shown another side of the family feeling towards him when Cissie, slipping her arm through her brother’s, said softly, ‘Aunt Phoebe was right, you know: it would be lovely if you came back. And we do all need you.’
He patted her hand where it lay on his arm as he said, ‘I wish I were two people, Cissie. When I’m here I don’t want to leave, because life is easy, yet quite disorganised, as always.’ He laughed as he turned and looked at Emily, adding, ‘No routine or pattern to it. I’ve never visited any house where such chaos was the order of the day.’ Then turning again to his sister, he said, ‘But you know yourself the need here is nothing to what it is there. You have no idea, Cissie.’
‘Oh, I would argue that,’ she said. ‘The need is the same here, although perhaps there is more of it in the city.’
‘Well, yes, perhaps. Anyway, here we are for the afternoon and I want a game of croquet. Have you ever played croquet, Emily?’
She looked at him and smiled and her voice was low as she said, ‘That’s a stupid question.’
‘I don’t see why. Anyway, that means you haven’t played croquet. Well, you’re going to learn.’ …
For the next hour or so Emily learned how to handle a croquet mallet, to get the balls through the narrow hoops, and how to score. And when some time later, sitting in the shade with Lady Montane and watching the three men and the women playing the game, there came a call from the house and Lady Montane, looking to where her husband stood beckoning her, said, ‘Excuse me a moment, dear. I wonder what it is now; likely something to do with the imps.’
As she hurried away, almost immediately and appearing as if out of the air, Phoebe took her seat, causing Emily to gasp.
‘Why did you wear that big hat when you were travelling?’ And the question with no lead-up again caused Emily to gasp. ‘Well,’ she said; then smiled as she went on, ‘I…I was persuaded to wear it. I was going to wear a smaller one, but Steve said, wear that big straw.’
‘Do you always do what he says?’
‘No; very rarely.’
‘It won’t get you anywhere, you know.’
Emily paused before she asked, ‘What won’t get me anywhere?’
‘That hat.’
‘Oh! Well, what makes you think that?’
‘Because it’s like my bonnet, it’s fated.’
‘Fated? Why should it be fated?’ Emily was no longer smiling.
‘Because it’s odd. It’s got nothing on it except that bow. It’s too big and too bright and it upsets people…like my bonnet. Years ago my bonnet upset people. It was pretty then, beautiful. It still upsets people. That hat will, too, because some hats bring trouble. They take on what’s inside you. That’s why they pick you in the first place. You don’t pick them, they pick you.’
Emily now turned fully towards the odd little woman and as she stared at her she felt a shiver pass through her body. She was uncanny, she was weird. But she was right. In a very strange way she was right.
As Phoebe saw her sister-in-law advancing towards them again, she rose hastily from the seat and, looking directly at Emily, she said quietly and quickly, ‘He’s the best of the bunch. And I don’t know much about you yet, but I don’t think you’re worthy of him.’ And on this she turned away.
‘Has she upset you?’ Lady Montane was looking down on her.
‘No. Oh, no; only, she’s very observant, isn’t she?’
‘Yes…yes, she’s very observant. And, you will have gathered, she’s not like an ordinary person. She isn’t an ordinary person. She could be called an eccentric. She has never taken on any of the niceties of manner or speech that would have classed her as normal. But nevertheless, to my mind, in fact to all our minds, she is very normal.’
‘Has she experienced some tragedy?’
‘No! No!’ Lady Montane’s voice was bright. ‘Never crossed in love, although we have to use that at times to explain her oddity. But no; she’s been like that since she was small. She was born when my husband was four, that’s sixty years ago, and she seems to have been under his care ever since. The only real oddness about her is that during any period he has to be away for any length of time she keeps mostly to her room. She had a private tutor until she was sixteen, and she’s very well-read, although you wouldn’t imagine it from her manner and her talk.’ She now changed the conversation suddenly by saying, ‘Have you known Steve long?’
‘No; not very long. Just from the time he began to attend my employer.’ What question Lady Montane would have asked next was checked by her rising and saying, with a touch of impatience, ‘Oh, excuse me again; here are some friends of ours.’
As she went towards the terrace, the game of croquet ended, and Vera and Cissie, coming towards her, flopped down into chairs. And Vera, nodding towards the visitors who were now coming onto the lawn, said, ‘They must have got wind that Steve is here.’ Then, looking towards Emily, she added, ‘Neighbours of ours.’
Emily was introduced to the Misses Braize. Miss Nan looked to be somewhere in her middle twenties, a plain and severe-looking young woman; but as for Miss Biddy, Emily couldn’t place her, for she had a giggle like a frivolous young girl’s and a manner tending towards affectation. And Emily soon discovered they were very curious to know all about her: Who was she, what did she do? Had she been presented at Court? How did she come to know dear Stevie? The questions came coated and cleverly mixed with odd topics of conversation.
Afternoon tea followed on the lawn and it wasn’t lost on Emily how the elder Miss Braize felt about Steve, for if she wasn’t near him she couldn’t take her eyes off him. She also noticed that his manner was kind and caring towards her, for he didn’t treat her to any quips and challenging remarks.
Emily felt it was only because it was considered bad form to outstay one’s welcome to afternoon tea that the sisters left when they did, amid waves of goodbye and unmistakable lingering looks on Steve from Miss Nan Braize.
When presently it was time for them, too, to leave, Emily could not help but be surprised at the friendliness of all of them in wishing her to come again. But it was Lady Montane’s last words to her, as they stood alone together in the hall, that filled her with guilt, for she was saying, ‘I feel sure we’ll be seeing a great deal of each other in the future, my dear.’ What could she say to that? All she could do was manage to smile and thank her for a wonderful day.
It wasn’t until they were sitting in the train opposite each other and with the compartment to themselves that he said, ‘Well, tell me truthfully, what did you think of that lot?’
