Saplings

  ‘There’s something in what you say, but you put yourself in your Gran and Grandfather’s places. Having people to stay and having people to live are two different things, they like their own ways and with Albert and Ernie we are rather a house full, but it will be all right when you come back at Christmas. We’ll have shaken down and we’ll be counting the days until you come back, just as we would if you were living at home.’

  Laurel got up.

  ‘Dust me. I mustn’t arrive in a uniform all over grass.’ She waited while Ruth gave her skirt a brush. Then she hugged her. ‘Anyway you’ll always be you, and I find that a great consolation.’

  Ruth’s heart ached. She gave Laurel an affectionate shake.

  ‘Consolation indeed! I don’t mind telling you I’m not glad your term’s started. I shall miss you abominably.’

  XVI

  Lena, Alex, Laurel and Tony sat on a sofa in the hotel lounge. It was a raw day, not nice enough for a walk. Throughout the lounge other parents and children were huddled. The feeling of being overlooked by their fellow school-mates made the children self-conscious, they spoke in monosyllables or in forced unnatural voices. Alex and Lena started hares of conversation. Laurel and Tony sniffed at their scent and then let them go. Tony wanted to hear about his trains but not here, trains were home things. Laurel wanted to know about friends who had gone to classes with her in London, but not when other girls were about with flapping ears. It was only an hour and a half since they had been collected from their respective schools, and though they had barely swallowed their lunch the time was dragging so it felt like tea-time. Even their pride in Lena had died down. It had been grand seeing everybody look at her at lunch, but of course people had got used to her.

  Alex could bear it no longer. He knew Lena would not come out but he had come to see how his children were getting along and he meant to do it.

  ‘That roast beef is sitting a bit heavy. How about yours, Laurel? Shall we take a quick walk?’ He saw Tony was about to jump up. ‘Then I shall drag you out, old man. Half an hour’s walk for each of you to give you an appetite for tea.’

  Outside there was a blustering wind with a spit of rain in it, but Laurel’s heart soared. Alex tucked her hand into his arm.

  ‘Well. How d’you like it?’

  Laurel rubbed her face against his sleeve.

  ‘Actually, though I never thought I would, I rather do. There are such a lot of us and being all dressed alike I find very consoling.’

  Alex looked at her green overcoat and beret with its badge and made a face.

  ‘I liked you better in your own things. What’s that headmistress of yours like?’

  Laurel was shocked at the casual way in which he spoke.

  ‘Miss Brownlow. I don’t know. Though, as a matter of fact, she startled me this morning by knowing who I was. I was waiting for you in the hall and she said, “Good-morning, Laurel.” I nearly dropped dead I was so surprised.’

  ‘I should hope she did know you, I’ve entrusted a valued daughter to her.’

  ‘But there are more than two hundred of us and I’m new. She saw me my first day. She was pretty super.’

  ‘What about?’

  ‘She asked me why I was called Laurel when my name was Ann, so I explained about you liking plain names and us all being christened them, and Mum liking queer names, so us all being called by them. She said would I like to be called Ann at school.’

  ‘Would you?’

  ‘I don’t think I’d ever answer to it and that would be simply awful. You have to be frightfully quick answering when your name’s called or you get a bad mark for inattention, and ten bad marks in any week and you get an order mark. Order marks are given out after evening prayers on Sundays and Miss Brownlow calls the girls up who’ve got them. Imagine, with all the school looking! I should die of shame.’

  ‘Have you had many bad marks?’

  ‘Oh no, none and I hope I never will. If you answer quickly and learn what all the bells mean I don’t think you ever need. Because you don’t get them for not being bright. You’re only supposed to do work that you can do. I’m just right. Not the oldest and not the youngest, just in the middle, and I’m about all right at my lessons. My form mistress said I’d been well grounded. I wrote and told the Foxglove. I bet she’s bucked.’

  ‘What about this champion business? What’s the aim at the moment?’

  Laurel hugged his arm.

  ‘Don’t tease. That’s all finished. It’s awful to be especially good at something in a school. People point you out. It’s the other way round to being at home. At home if you were super at something it was a sort of cover; you were sort of marked, and at other things it didn’t matter your being a mutt because people said it wasn’t your subject. At school nobody notices you if you’re just average and I think it’s simply gorgeous. Why, hardly anybody in the school knows I’ve come to it.’

  Alex wondered if this wish for anonymity was good. Then he looked at Laurel’s contented face, and felt her hand squeeze his arm. It had one advantage, it was not altering the daughter he loved. Her wish not to be noticed meant that her quality was untouched, she continued to be herself, and the mass of similarly dressed, similarly acting girls round her relaxed her. She would probably in time dare to blossom because she was less vulnerable to bruising and hurt.

  Lena had produced a solitaire board. Just two across a table arranging the marbles and things were easier. The interest of the game took away Tony’s self-consciousness, he became less aware that other boys from his school were present. Lena took immense trouble. This coming down for the day was a bore. Schools seemed to be built near the most ghastly hotels where there was nothing whatsoever to do. She hoped they had not made a mistake in sending Laurel to the Abbey School; the parents seemed even tattier than the parents of the boys from Tony’s school, if that was possible. Still, as they had made the effort the day must be built into a success. Alex was probably right to make a martyr of himself and take each of the children separately for a walk. It was simpler with one of them alone, you could do more to charm and please. Shocking the way school affected children. They became so monosyllabic and drab. And those ghastly clothes! Of course nobody could do much with Laurel, poor little thing, but what had they done to her good-looking Tony? They had cut his hair too short, and she hated the pale lemon tie, it was not a bit his colour. And he had a spot on his chin, he never had spots at home.

  ‘Tony, put the last marble into its niche.’

  ‘Mum, do you think we could come home at Christmas as there aren’t any bombs or gas?’

  Lena would not admit to anyone, even to herself, that she was unable to influence Alex, so she must appear to side with him.

  ‘Not this holidays, darling. It’s too early yet to be sure.’

  ‘Albert and Ernie’s father’s a warden and he’s quite likely letting them go back for Christmas. I should think if he does Dad ought to let us. After all, a warden must know.’

  Lena thought everything to do with the war nonsense. It was obvious the Germans did not want to fight, and it would probably come to nothing and this fearful upset would all be unnecessary. Alex absolutely living at his factory, only coming home to sleep. The children with their grandparents, probably being made prim and losing their charm. Everybody trying to get into a uniform and do something they were quite unsuited for. However, no good arguing with Alex. In fact it was dangerous, for it started the old idea that she should be with the children. She had taken her stand on that. She would visit the children whenever he did but not on her own. She missed them and hated the house without them, but where Alex was there she intended to be. Women had to make up their minds on which side of the fence they were coming down and stick to it.

  ‘Not Christmas, I think, but perhaps Easter. Dad and I are coming to spend Christmas with you. Christmas is rather fun in the country.’

  ‘I’d rather be at home.’

  ‘I know, darling, we miss you terribly.’


  Tony was playing. He moved several marbles before he spoke again.

  ‘It seems to me no good having air-raid wardens if you can’t believe them when they say there won’t be bombs.’

  ‘You tell Dad about the air-raid warden. Perhaps he doesn’t know.’

  ‘Will you come for my birthday?’

  ‘I think so. Dad’s trying to get away. We’ve booked a room here for the night.’

  ‘I should think he jolly well ought to get off. It’s my most important birthday so far, going into double figures.’

  Lena smiled at his frowning face.

  ‘Don’t be angry with us, darling. It’s not our fault there’s a war.’

  ‘I know but I think it’s mean we can’t go back to London if Albert and Ernie can.’

  He was still harping on the same theme when Alex and Laurel came in from their walk. Lena gave him an affectionate push.

  ‘Go and put on your coat and scold Dad instead of me.’

  Laurel did not play solitaire but arranged the marbles in a pattern while she talked to Lena.

  ‘What’s Tony cross about?’

  ‘The evacuees that Gran has are probably going back to London at Christmas. Tony thinks he should too.’

  Laurel sighed.

  ‘I wish we could. But you’re coming to spend the holidays with us.’

  ‘Part of them anyway. I’ve had invitations from the Aunts for you. Would you like to stay with Aunt Dot, Aunt Selina or Aunt Sylvia?’

  Laurel grinned at Lena, supposing that she was being funny.

  ‘My goodness no! Of course I’ve always liked staying with Gran and Grandfather, though they’ll never seem a home, but with you coming it won’t be so bad. But going anywhere else would be awful. When you go to a boarding school you do want a place in the holidays where you belong in which to rest your bones.’

  Tony, head down to the wind, argued with Alex.

  ‘Well, anyway, for a week. I don’t want my tools and projector and trains moved. I want them where they are. I shall look pretty silly having to stay in the country while Albert and Ernie go back to London. And if you don’t mind my saying so, Dad, their father simply must know more about air-raids and gas than you do.’

  Alex was tired. The turning over of his factories to the manufacture of war materials was exacting work. Lena was a problem. He was out of the house all of the day and often part of the night. She was too much alone, and though she did not complain he knew she was missing the children. Life was far from normal, there was very little entertaining and no theatres or cinemas open. Most difficult of all, many of her friends were coming back to London, laughing loudly because none of the horrors they had been told to expect had come upon them. They were not going to the length of reopening their whole houses but they were talking of having their children back for Christmas if things went on being quiet. Quite a lot of thinking people were being fooled, were saying Germany would not fight. Alex, with his business ramifications all over Europe, was puzzled by the lull but heart heavy with forebodings; and at the same time scared, and angry because he was scared, of peace overtures. Would a pacifist Prime Minister and a soft, peace-loving nation, backed by a more than willing France, patch things for another year or two? He had to hold himself in to answer Tony gently.

  ‘You’re not coming back, old man, whatever any one else is doing, and I want the subject dropped.’

  Tony flushed.

  ‘Do you mean we’re never coming home?’

  ‘Not until all danger of air attack’s over.’

  Tony knew that tone in his father’s voice. Even on a half-term holiday when you could say almost anything you liked you could not ignore it. They were not going home. It was to be Gran’s and Grandfather’s. And Albert, who was the same age as he was, would be back in London.

  Alex asked about the school rugger teams, and Tony answered politely. Both father and son were conscious that there was strain and hated it, but neither could break it down. Depressed they turned round and walked back to the hotel.

  XVII

  Kim was a changed child. The schoolroom was his and he had the undivided attention of Ruth. On Sundays he came down to the dining-room to lunch with his grandparents. There was a riding school in the neighbourhood and he rode most afternoons. The riding mistress, who, when not teaching children to ride, gave her life in adoring service to three Pekinese, was bowled over by Kim’s good looks and lavished on him the same baby talking worship she gave to her dogs. He missed Laurel and Tony but gained from their absence and knew it. There was sometimes friction in the nursery, where Nannie, looking on Albert and Ernie as the least privileged of her chicks, saw to it that when there were favours going they were the first to receive them. Yet, though this seeming unfairness did sometimes at the time throw Kim into rages, fits of showing off or bleak depression, Albert contributed to his feeling of well-being, for, provided that Ernie, who was within a few months the same age as Kim got his rights, he was willing to give way to Kim as a ‘little ’un’.

  Ruth worried about Kim. Was he being spoilt? Was he going to be difficult in the holidays because term time was easy for him? It was quite impossible for her to be unduly strict with him, for he was the most engaging pupil, full of tremendous interest, bursting with intelligent and amusing questions; furious with himself if he did badly. What caused her real distress was that Kim gained from being away from his parents. He was on the jump when Alex was about, he felt inferior, and then swaggered and showed off. Lena’s obvious worship was not good for him either. You could not miss the fact that because Kim was feeling easier, life for him was easier, and this meant he was better liked. Ruth dreaded Christmas for him. Poor little creature, he was sure to make an abominable nuisance of himself.

  Nannie had settled down. It was easier for her with Laurel and Tony away. She accepted that they were schoolroom children, but naturally, having brought them up, she knew their insides better than any one else, and she had to what she called ‘Keep an eye’. But they were not really under her wing any more, and sometimes when they were home she felt restive, and, had she been the hen she resembled, she would have clucked.

  Tuesday had been a trouble. Nannie doubted if the water suited her. She had taken to biting her nails, and she sometimes screamed in her sleep. However, she was getting better. The house was not home but Nannie had managed to establish regular ways, everything done at its proper time. In her opinion there was nothing like regular ways, helped out in Tuesday’s case by her powders, for putting a child to rights.

  Albert and Ernie gave Nannie great satisfaction. She fought quite a fight with Albert over his bowels, for Albert was convinced that Nannie’s interest was not nice. She had gained her way mainly owing to her faith, which nothing could shake, that nobody would obstruct her will in her nurseries. Ernie was a success. The country air, long nights, regular, well-chosen meals, had changed him from a peaky child into a solid, red-cheeked one.

  Mr. and Mrs. Parker had been down to see how their children were getting on. Elsa had offered them a bed for the night. The visit had not made for anyone’s happiness. Albert and Ernie became unsettled and were homesick for days afterwards. Mr. Parker approved so well of the entire household and the arrangements for his boys that he wanted them to stay, and tried to withdraw his promise that if things went on being quiet they might come home at Christmas. It took a fortnight’s tears from Mrs. Parker to make him again change his mind, and though Mrs. Parker had no idea of it, he only did give in because of a conversation he had with the Colonel.

  Colonel Wiltshire, with The Times under his arm and his four dogs running round him, had come out to get his feel of the day. Mr. Parker had come out to have a smoke and to be out of the way. They exchanged greetings and then the Colonel asked him if he would care to have a look round the garden. They were on their way back to the house when Mr. Parker, with difficulty, expressed his thanks.

  ‘Been proper good to my kids.’

  ‘Nice b
oys. Sorry you’re taking them away. Ought to stop.’

  ‘Too right they ought. What I says is, they wouldn’t be giving us all this practise if nothing was expected. Course I’m only a part-timer but you wouldn’t believe the time I ’ave to put in. Gas, that’s what’s comin’.’

  ‘Why not leave them here?’

  ‘The missus. Been lookin’ very rough since they’ve been gone. Still, I’ll ’ave another try but she’s set they’ve got to be back for Christmas, and once they’re back she won’t let them go again until he drops things, and then it’ll be too late, like as not.’

  The Colonel whistled up his dogs.

  ‘Remember this. If you have to have them back, you can send them here the moment trouble starts. I don’t say there’ll be beds, but we’ll always manage something.’

  Mr. Parker, worn down by his wife’s tears, did remember. He saw the Colonel, with his straight military back and his honesty that nobody could doubt. If he said the boys could always come back then it was a certainty that they could. Mr. Parker still felt he was acting foolishly but he was sick of tears.

  ‘All right, they can come, but one bomb and they’ll be goin’ back, so keep their things ready, see.’

  XVIII

  It was snowing. The yellowish black sky gave promise of more snow. Even in the warmed hall the children could see their breath, it hung like smoke on the air. Tony tapped the barometer. Laurel glanced over her shoulder.

  ‘It won’t move again yet. It’s not more than an hour since Grandfather gave it its morning set.’

  Tony left the barometer and wandered back to the french window.