(8/13) At Home in Thrush Green Read online

  'Although, of course, a picture would be less bother,' observed her headmistress, after due thought.

  The tiff between John and Edward still made itself felt. The two couples frequently had an evening together playing cards, but when Joan broached the subject to her husband she was surprised at his response.

  'Oh, skip it for a bit! John's in one of his awkward moods. Let him simmer.'

  'How do you mean?'

  'Oh, he was rather offensive to me the other day.'

  'John? Offensive? I can't believe it.'

  Edward began to fidget up and down the room.

  'Nothing too personal, I suppose, but he was throwing his weight about over the steps at the old people's place.'

  'Well, he may be right. Mr Jones mentioned them to me the other morning. He hoped the residents there wouldn't slip on them.'

  'Oh, don't you start! There's absolutely nothing wrong with those steps,' exploded Edward. 'The point is I don't particularly want to spend a whole evening in John's company at the moment.'

  'Well, calm down,' begged Joan, taken aback at such unaccustomed heat. 'You'll have a seizure if you get into such a state, over such a silly little thing.'

  'It isn't a silly little thing to me,' almost shouted her incensed husband, it's a criticism of my work, and I'm not standing for it.'

  At that Joan shrugged her shoulders, and went out, without comment, to do her shopping.

  ***

  Ruth Lovell, Joan's sister, was also perplexed by her husband's moodiness. She knew from experience that he took everything seriously. It was one of his qualities which his patients appreciated. He was willing to give time, as well as his medical expertise, to their troubles, and this they warmly appreciated.

  Such dedication frequently exhausted him, and Ruth did her best to provide a relaxing atmosphere in their home. Their occasional evenings at the Youngs', or in their house, at the card table, were one of John's few outside pleasures.

  But he too, it seemed, did not want to spend an evening with his brother-in-law, but said less about his reasons than the voluble Edward.

  'Perhaps later on,' he said when Ruth suggested a card-playing evening. 'I'm rather tired these days, and Edward can be a bit overpowering, I find.'

  'Just as you like,' answered Ruth. 'And if you're feeling tired, what about a dose or two of that tonic you make up for the patients?'

  'That stuff?' exclaimed her husband. 'Not likely! It tastes appalling.'

  Ella Bembridge, looking with approval at the bright October landscape, decided to take a pot of newly-made plum jam to Dotty Harmer, and to collect her goat's milk on the same errand.

  The air was fresh and invigorating. Three dogs who had escaped from their owners were playing a mad game of 'He' on the green, observed at a safe distance by Albert Piggott's cat sitting on the churchyard wall.

  Albert himself, cigarette dangling from his lip, was supporting himself on a hoe, as Ella went by.

  'Lovely day,' shouted Ella.

  'Ah!' agreed Albert.

  'Busy?'

  'Always plenty to do,' growled Albert, prodding in a desultory way at a dandelion root.

  'That's what keeps you in such good trim,' said Ella bracingly.

  She passed on her way, leaving Albert more than usually disgruntled by this exchange.

  'In good trim,' repeated Albert disgustedly, flinging his cigarette stub over the wall. 'That's a laugh, I must say.'

  But Ella was well out of earshot, and by now was traversing the narrow path by the Piggotts' cottage which led to Lulling Woods and Dotty's house.

  She found Dotty sitting on the sofa surrounded by various woollen garments which she was busily unravelling.

  'Connie and Kit are at the end of the garden,' she said, 'having a bonfire. They'll be here in a minute. How nice to see you.'

  'Too good to stay in, so I thought I'd bring you a pot of plum jam.'

  'Lovely! I really miss jam making, but Connie won't let me stand for too long, and last time I put in rather too much sugar, and burnt the saucepan. The stove was rather messy too.'

  Ella could well imagine it, but forbore to comment.

  'And what are you doing with all that wool?'

  'It's for a knitting bee in Lulling. Everyone's going to knit squares, for blankets, you know. I thought these old jumpers would do very well to supply some of the wool.'

  Ella, who deplored things made from old materials in this way, nobly took hold of a dilapidated scarf and began to unravel it, only to find that innumerable moth holes resulted in lengths of wool not much more than a yard long.

  'Better throw this away,' she said after some examination of the material.

  'No, no!' protested Dotty. 'Just go on rolling it up, dear, and the knitters can quite well cope with it.'

  Luckily, at this moment, Connie and Kit, flushed with exercise and smelling exceedingly autumnal from the bonfire smoke, arrived to take over, and Ella could sit back and enjoy the rest of her visit.

  'And how are your new neighbours settling in?' enquired Connie.

  'Pretty well, I gather from the Cartwrights. I bobbed over to see dear old Tom Hardy and his dog yesterday. He's as pleased as Punch with the house. Great relief for Dimity and Charles, who were beginning to worry about getting him to uproot himself.'

  'I was going to call there yesterday,' said Kit, 'but had to go to the dentist instead.'

  'Bad luck! Why is it one always dreads the dentist more than the doctor? After all, there's a lot more to go wrong in the doctor's section.'

  'I'm thankful to say,' said Dotty, wrenching madly at a jumper sleeve, 'that I haven't a tooth left in my head.'

  'Neither shall I have, at this rate,' observed Kit. 'I must say though, he seems a quiet decent sort of chap. I once had a dentist who had music in the background. I suppose he thought it might soothe his patients.'

  'What an idea!' said Connie.

  'Exactly! I felt like shouting: "Switch that row off, and attend to your job, man!" But, of course, with all the ironmongery in my mouth at the time, I was helpless!'

  'I had a dentist once,' mused Connie, 'who had a tank of tropical fish in one's eyeline. Far from soothing, I found it. I kept worrying about the air flow, and one particularly terrified fish that kept hiding behind some water weed.'

  'I heard of one,' said Ella, adding her mite, 'who kept bees in his surgery.'

  'In a skep? Surely not?'

  'No, in a glass observation case. They had an opening to get out to fly for honey. Quite fascinating really, if you were in any mood to enjoy practical demonstrations.'

  'All I can say is,' said Dotty, 'at least you are not shown the tooth he's just extracted, all bloody at one end, as our dentist used to do when we were children.'

  'How gruesome!' said Connie.

  'He was a friend of my father's,' went on Dotty, dropping half a dozen balls of wool on the floor, much to Flossie's delight. 'They both felt that children should learn to face up to life.'

  'And death too, I should think,' said Kit shortly, 'at that rate. Here, what about a cup of tea?'

  'An excellent idea,' replied Dotty. 'And we could have some of Ella's plum jam. Unless, of course, you would like to try mine?'

  'Yours, dearest aunt, is now making excellent compost,' said Connie gently, 'so we'll settle for Ella's today.'

  Although Ella had assured her friends that all was going well at the old people's homes, that was not quite true.

  To be sure, the residents had enjoyed a little party arranged by Jane and Bill after all their charges had arrived.

  Here introductions were made, a glass of wine or orange juice taken, and invitations given to each other's abodes. The atmosphere was cordial. All were thankful to have been among the lucky applicants, and anxious to make friends with those who shared their environment.

  Jane and Bill were greatly relieved to see how well their charges settled down, but they did not deceive themselves by thinking that such halcyon conditions would continue
for ever. There were bound to be differences of opinion, little complaints, and perhaps ill health to face, but at least, they comforted themselves, the party had gone well and everyone appeared amicably disposed.

  The animals, whose inclusion at the homes had so concerned the trustees, gave no trouble at all. The Jermyns' cat Monty, large and placid, was content to sun himself in the angle of a wall at his end of the row. At night time he fraternised with Albert Piggott's cat and the two explored Thrush Green in great contentment. Tom Hardy's Polly they simply ignored.

  Polly was equally content. She had Tom, her adored master. The house was warm, her food arrived regularly, and she was getting too old to bother about taking much exercise. A gentle amble about the green, or a leisurely walk at her master's heels along Lulling High Street, suited the old lady very well. She soon forgot the river sounds and smells which had once meant so much to her in her earlier years.

  As for Miss Fuller's lovebirds, they twittered together in their cage set in the window, and behaved exactly as they had done for years. If anything they seemed more animated, and according to their doting mistress their appetites had improved since the move.

  But although the animals had soon settled in, it was their human companions who seemed more restless. This, of course, was natural as the first euphoria wore off. People were bound to begin to make comparisons with the homes they had left. Some found a lack of cupboard space. Some found the hot water system inadequate. Some complained that, despite Edward Young's care in sound-proofing, they could hear the next door's television set working.

  Jane and Bill did their best to mitigate these little upsets. They were genuinely sympathetic to these elderly people. They persuaded those who complained about the lack of storage space to look again at their possessions and perhaps part with some of them. They suggested certain rearrangements, and put in a lot of time and energy in sorting out a great many articles. Some were much-loved old friends, and it was clear that to part with, say, an ancient corner cupboard, or an occasional table inherited from a grandmother, was going to be a wrench which their owners could not face. Jane was wonderfully diplomatic in these matters, and knew when to stop her suggestions, before agitation took over. But she was successful in helping several of her charges with problems of this kind.

  The hot water system was soon remedied by means of a midday boost. The question of noise from neighbouring houses was not so simply answered. Some of the tentants were getting deaf, and automatically set their radios and television sets to a high volume. The fine weather meant that windows, and sometimes doors, were open, and Jane paid several visits to those offenders who were annoying their neighbours in all innocence.

  It was soon apparent that the most difficult resident was going to be Carlotta Jermyn. She was a woman who had always demanded attention, and though, as a small-time actress, she had never received national acclaim, she had expected a certain amount of limelight among her fellow artists and even more admiration from the public. As a pretty child and young woman, she had been spoilt, and her husband had continued the process throughout their married life. It was soon common knowledge that her husband took tea to her every morning in bed, and that it took her over an hour to dress and make up her face, before she was ready for the day. Such behaviour occasioned disapproval among one or two of the neighbours, particularly in the case of Miss Fuller, who as a hard-working teacher had always been up betimes, cooked her own breakfast, and never had a meal in bed in her life, except when confined to hospital with broken ribs.

  However, all this could have been born if Carlotta had not taken to calling on her neighbours at the most awkward times. In truth, the poor woman was increasingly bored and missed the daily routine of her life in the little town of Lulling. There she had enjoyed the company of a next-door neighbour whose husband had also been in the army. As his rank had been higher than Carlotta's husband's, a certain amount of deference was shown, and Carlotta was gratified to have the friendship of a senior officer's wife and to exchange confidences over the garden hedge.

  She still met her friend in The Fuchsia Bush now and again, and the two couples exchanged visits. But naturally Carlotta was thrown more upon her own resources, and very soon began to turn to her neighbours for company.

  As it was usually midday before she began to pay her social calls, several of her victims found them annoying.

  It was true that she did not bother Tom Hardy or old Johnny Enderby, guessing that they would not provide the light chit-chat which she so missed since moving from Lulling, but Mrs Bates and Miss Fuller were early among her prey, and very exasperating they found her attentions.

  Both these ladies, and the single old men for that matter, were used to having their main meal at twelve or soon after, making do with a snack in the evening and sometimes a bedtime drink.

  Carlotta was accustomed to preparing an evening meal, and the Jermyns were quite happy with a bowl of soup, cheese and biscuits and fruit at midday.

  This meant, of course, that Mrs Jermyn, once her lengthy toilet was completed, was at leisure to call somewhere between half past eleven and twelve upon her neighbours just when they were at a crucial stage of their cooking arrangements, either stirring gravy, prodding potatoes, setting the table, or putting on the sprouts.

  Mrs Bates, a humble soul who had spent her active years as a first-rate maid, was flattered at first to be called upon, and was inclined to call Carlotta 'Madam', which pleased her visitor exceedingly. But after three visits in four days, on the last of which poor Mrs Bates had been in the middle of eating shepherd's pie when the imperious knock came at the door, she quite firmly said that it would be more convenient if calls could be made around three in the afternoon when she was not so busy.

  Miss Fuller, less impressed with Carlotta's social graces, made it clear on the occasion of the lady's second visit, that she had her lunch promptly at twelve-fifteen, having got used to this over the years of eating school dinners.

  Carlotta had laughed merrily in a patronising way and had commented: 'Oh dear! What a dreadful time to have to face a meal! When do you fit in your little drinkie? I'm usually looking forward to a spot of gin about then.'

  'I don't drink,' Miss Fuller had replied shortly, shutting the door smartly upon her visitor.

  The Cross pair, George and Mary, and Jack and Sybil Angell had not been hounded quite so severely, possibly because they seemed to be out quite a lot, and also had a number of friends who dropped in.

  Jane Cartwright soon became aware of Carlotta's nuisance value and wondered if she should drop a hint.

  'A hint?' said Bill, when the matter was discussed. 'Carlotta Jermyn wouldn't know what a hint was! No, my love, just let things sort themselves out. She'll twig before long that her attentions aren't welcome. Our Miss Fuller will make that plain, and if she doesn't, then I'll have a word with the Captain. He's got plenty of horse sense.'

  Most of the residents were more than satisfied with their new circumstances, and Tom and Johnny, who had met before on various Lulling occasions, were fast becoming firm friends.

  Each little house had a small garden at the back, and a slip of a garden beneath the front windows.

  The two old men were soon busy planting their crops in the little plots. Johnny Enderby shared a bundle of fine wallflower plants with his neighbour, and their two front gardens were the first to be prepared, ready for a bright and fragrant show the next spring.

  They took to walking along the Nidden road together on fine afternoons, Polly at their heels, and sometimes called at The Two Pheasants of an evening for a pint of ale. It was plain to the Cartwrights that here were two model tenants.

  The Thrush Green residents took a great interest in their new neighbours. Winnie Bailey knew most of them from the old days when her husband had been in practice. Ella Bembridge and Mrs Bates were old acquaintances, and Sybil Angell had been to the same craftwork evening classes as Ella.

  George and Mary Cross knew the Shoosmiths, and soon t
here was a good deal of visiting, and being visited, by old and new inhabitants of Thrush Green. Miss Watson and Miss Fogerty's first tea party for Miss Fuller was soon followed by other modest invitations, and the Cartwrights found themselves as busy as their charges in various hospitable engagements around Thrush Green.

  'Seem to have settled down lovely, don't they?' said Percy Hodge to the landlord, when Johnny and Tom had departed to their homes across the darkening green.

  'Ah! Lovely! Lovelily, I mean,' agreed Mr Jones, twirling a snowy cloth in a glass. He stopped suddenly. Somehow, that last word sounded wrong.

  He resumed his polishing more slowly, still puzzled.

  Say what you like, he mused, English was a deuce of a language to get right. It got worse the more you thought about it.

  'Nearly time, gentlemen,' he said, putting the gleaming glass on a shelf.

  That was plain English anyway.

  11 Preparing for Bonfire Night

  DURING the last few days of October, the large heap on Thrush Green of inflammable material such as wood, cardboard boxes and paper bags full of dried leaves, grew daily as November the fifth approached.

  Miss Watson's class had made a splendid Guy Fawkes stuffed with straw, and dressed in some trousers which once belonged to Ben Curdle, a jacket of Albert Piggott's which Nelly had handed over secretly, much to her husband's rage, and some Wellington boots contributed by Ella Bembridge and destined to smell appallingly when the fire got going.

  The guy was crowned, somewhat incongruously, by a solar topee which Harold Shoosmith had once sported in his working colonial days. As Isobel had pointed out, the sun in Thrush Green, even at its best, hardly warranted keeping such a piece of head gear.

  Once the guy was completed, it had been decided by Miss Watson that such a great man-sized object would be best stored in her garden shed. This decision, however, caused such agitation, and even some tears, in the classroom, that she relented, and the figure hung from a hook on the back of the schoolroom door, and seriously impeded anyone going in and out.