The Bell Family

  ‘Look at that!’

  Mrs Gage looked.

  ‘Well, I must say velvet’s classy, but it’s very worn. Will it cut up for Jane?’

  Cathy hugged the garment to her.

  ‘It won’t, she’d look awful in this colour. It’s going to recover the armchair.’

  Mrs Gage was holding up Veronica’s frocks with coos of approval.

  ‘Sweetly pretty, aren’t they?’

  Cathy laughed.

  ‘Don’t say that to Ginnie. Put everything on my bed, but leave the velvet with me, I’m going to have a grand afternoon’s upholstering.’

  On Friday, when Ginnie went to fetch the verger’s baby for its pram ride, she heard he was going away with his mother the next morning. She was most annoyed, and as she pushed the baby round the church she told him so.

  ‘You are the miserablest baby, you’ve looked sneering every day, you’ve blown bubbles at me, and now, on the very last day of my week, you’re going away, so I’ve got to look for a different baby tomorrow. You see, I promised Miss Newton it would be a baby every day, and tomorrow isn’t a day when I’ve time to look for babies, because the relations are coming to tea.’

  On Saturday morning before he went to school Paul talked to Jane.

  ‘That chap I told you about is going to take me to see the man who gives him work. If I’m late for lunch and Mum flaps, say you knew I might be late, because I’m seeing someone.’

  ‘I’m going to the Helping Hand agency this morning, after I’ve done the beds. Let’s hope we both get a job. If I can get some baby sitting I’ll start tonight after the relations have gone. I hope your friend finds something sensible for you, I mean, if it was to do with a chemist’s shop or something like that, it would help with being a doctor, wouldn’t it?’

  The hot weather made Paul feel tired and cross.

  ‘If I ever am a doctor.’

  Jane looked at him witheringly.

  ‘What do you mean, Paul Bell?’

  ‘Well, sometimes it all seems so hopeless. Especially now we can’t go to Uncle Jim’s. If I was to work for Grandfather …’

  Jane was really shocked.

  ‘That would be selling your soul for a mess of potage, you’re a lily-livered loon to think of it. I hate seeing Mummy and Daddy looking tired as much as you do, but if you think I’d give up dancing and go into Grandfather’s wool business because of earning money, you’re wrong, I wouldn’t.’

  ‘Oh, all right, don’t nag. It’s only a thought. Good luck with the Helping Hand people.’

  The Helping Hand agency was a small business in unimposing premises. But, although it did not look grand, Jane hung about quite a while outside, trying to get up courage to go in. She hoped she was not looking too young. She had tied her hair back, because she thought it seemed more grown-up that way, and put on her longest cotton frock, but it did not hide the fact that she was wearing socks, and what she called little-girl shoes. She could only hope she would sit to be interviewed, and then her legs would not show.

  Inside the agency there was a counter, and behind it sorting cards was a brisk-looking woman with grey hair. She looked up as Jane came in.

  ‘Good morning. What is it, dear?’

  Jane tried to sound as if she was used to agencies.

  ‘I’ve come to see if you have some work I could do.’

  The woman looked amused.

  ‘We’ve no work for children.’

  ‘I’m not a child. I mean, I’m much older and stronger than I look, and I’m honest, sober and hard working.’

  The woman laid down her tray of cards.

  ‘Come and sit down.’ Jane sat. ‘Now, who are you? I want your name, age and address.’

  Jane had not thought of having to give her address.

  ‘If I tell you, will you keep it a secret? I mean not ring up Daddy, or anything like that?’ The woman nodded. ‘Well, I’m Jane Bell. My father is vicar of St Mark’s.’

  The woman was very good at listening, and very kind. She seemed really sorry about the fire, and quite understood that Jane wanted to help. When Jane had finished talking she asked her to wait while she went to the telephone in the back room. She thought she had just the right work for her, which she could do at home in her spare time.

  While Jane was in the agency Ginnie was out doing the family shopping, but as well she was looking for a baby to be kind to. Oddly enough she could not find one; there were plenty of babies, but none of them had mothers who looked as if they needed help in looking after them. Then suddenly, just as she was giving up hope, she saw what she was looking for. The pram was standing on a bomb site, and in the full glare of the sun was a baby screaming like a parrot in the Zoo. Ginnie pushed the pram off the bomb site, and across to the shady side of the road.

  ‘Don’t cry, baby,’ Ginnie whispered. ‘I’m going to take you for a walk in the shade. It’s a shame leaving you in the sun, you look red and most peculiar, rather like bacon that’s been too much cooked.’ She jolted the pram up and down, and the baby, glad to be out of the sun and pleased with the motion, smiled. Ginnie was enchanted. ‘You’re much nicer than my other baby I took out for Service. If I had any money I’d buy you an ice cream.’

  It was just as Ginnie was whispering those words that the screaming began. High, hysterical screams on the words ‘My baby! My baby! Somebody’s stolen my baby!’

  Ginnie turned the pram again. ‘Silly woman!’ she thought. ‘Why couldn’t she shop a little longer? I wonder if Miss Newton would count this teeny walk as looking after somebody’s baby? It’s not my fault the mother wants it back.’

  Ginnie turned the pram to cross the road, and as she did so the baby’s mother, and the friends of the baby’s mother, saw her and rushed across to her.

  ‘You dirty little thief,’ the mother sobbed, dragging Ginnie’s hands off the perambulator. ‘How dare you steal my baby!’

  Ginnie was amazed at such stupidity.

  ‘I wasn’t stealing it. I was taking it for a walk for Service.’

  A red-faced woman joined in.

  ‘That for a tale!’

  An old lady shook her head at Ginnie.

  ‘I don’t know what children are comin’ to. No sense of responsibility.’

  The mother sobbed louder and louder.

  ‘Only left ’im for a moment … then I found ’im gone … proper turned me up, it has.’

  The red-faced woman put an arm round the mother.

  ‘Come and sit down a minute, dear. It’s the shock, that’s what it is.’

  More people crowded round, all telling each other what had happened.

  ‘Stealing the baby …’

  ‘Only left ’im for a moment.’

  ‘What ’er Dad’ll say I don’t know.’

  ‘Ought to know better, seein’ ’oo she is.’

  ‘Ought to be locked up.’

  Then, above the noise, came a slow, solid-sounding policeman’s voice.

  ‘Now, now. What’s all this?’

  Everybody tried to tell him, but the policeman fixed a stern eye on Ginnie.

  ‘What ’ave you got to say?’

  Ginnie still thought everybody was being very silly.

  ‘Of course I didn’t steal the baby. I have to look after a baby each day this week for Service, and the verger’s baby’s gone away, so I took this one for a walk.’

  Everybody started to shout at that.

  ‘That’s what she says.’

  ‘Oughter know better.’

  ‘Properly upset the poor mother. Come over queer she ’as.’

  The policeman thought it would be easier to find out the truth when less people were talking. He beckoned to Ginnie.

  ‘You come along of me to the station.’

  Miss Bloggs, passing on her bicycle, saw the crowd, and thought there had been an accident. She stopped to see if she could help.

  ‘Has there been an accident, Constable?’ Then she saw Ginnie. ‘Hallo, dear. What’s hap
pening?’

  The policeman, who was new to the district, did not know Ginnie or Miss Bloggs.

  ‘Is this your child, madam?’

  ‘No, no. That is little Virginia Bell. Daughter of the vicar of St Mark’s.’

  The voices rose again.

  ‘’er Dad won’t ’alf give ’er a hidin’.’

  ‘I’d take a strap to ’er if she was mine.’

  Everyone tried to tell him

  The policeman’s voice rose above the noise.

  ‘Quiet, please.’ Then he turned to Miss Bloggs. ‘This child was found with this lady’s baby. She took it from the bomb site.’ Then he took out his notebook and looked at the mother. ‘Are you charging this child?’

  The mother was still crying.

  ‘I don’t want to be ’ard, but …’

  Miss Bloggs opened her purse and took out some money.

  ‘Would one of you go with this lady, and see she has a cup of tea.’

  That somehow cleared the crowd. There was still a good deal of muttering about how bad Ginnie had been, but everybody moved away, and only the policeman, Ginnie and Miss Bloggs were left. The policeman shook his head at Ginnie.

  ‘You were lucky the mother didn’t charge you. Rightly I ought to take you to the station. Still, maybe it will be enough if I see your father.’

  Miss Bloggs felt it would be very upsetting for Alex and Cathy if a policeman brought Ginnie home.

  ‘Her father must, of course, be told, but if I might suggest, I know the family well, perhaps you would allow me to tell him.’

  The policeman looked gravely at his notebook. Then he shut it and put it in his pocket.

  ‘Very well, madam, but it’s a serious offence. She’s very lucky not to be in bad trouble, her father should know that.’

  Miss Bloggs looked like a frightened hen.

  ‘Quite right, Constable. He shall know, and I can promise you Ginnie will be punished.’

  When Paul came in lunch was over, so he had his by himself in the dining-room. Hearing Jane come in with Esau he called her in.

  ‘What on earth’s up? Ginnie’s howling in the study with Dad, and Mum’s shut in the drawing-room.’

  Jane closed the door and sat down at the table.

  ‘Ginnie’s such a fool. You know she’s looking after a baby for Service—well, the verger’s baby has gone away, so she stole one this morning.’

  Paul could not help laughing.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘She nearly went to the police station, but Miss Bloggs rescued her. She promised the policeman Daddy would punish her.’

  ‘So that’s what’s happening. Poor old Ginnie, but she is a prize ass. What luck with the agency?’

  Jane was ashamed to be pleased with so much gloom around, but she could not help being. ‘I’ve got some work. It’s in my bedroom. What about you?’

  Paul, too, was pleased.

  ‘So have I. I’ve got mine over there.’

  Jane looked where Paul was pointing.

  ‘Boxes!’ Then a thought struck her. ‘Paul Bell, you aren’t being paid 1s. 3d. a hundred for addressing envelopes, are you? That’s what I’m doing.’

  ‘I am. The man said you can get awfully quick when you’re used to it. How are we going to explain being in our bedrooms so much?’

  Jane leant on the table.

  ‘I was thinking about that while I took Esau out. I thought I’d tell Mummy I was making something as a surprise, you could say the same thing. We’ll have to tell Mrs Gage what we’re doing, because she’ll stop Mummy being too interested. I won’t lie, I’ll say it’s something for Daddy, which is true, and she’ll think it’s for his birthday, as it’s in September. I think I’ll see her now, and sort of plant the idea.’

  In the study Alex had been trying to make Ginnie understand what she had done.

  ‘This was a very wrong thing you did, Ginnie, taking that poor woman’s baby.’

  ‘I keep telling you, Daddy, I didn’t take it. It was meant for niceness.’

  Alex’s voice was stern.

  ‘It was meant for nothing of the sort, and you know it. I suppose what really happened was that you’d lost the verger’s baby, and you wanted to get your baby-minding over, and snatched at the first baby you saw.’

  ‘Not the first. There were hundreds of babies out this morning.’

  ‘Anyway, you took a baby without asking the consent of the mother, which you knew to be wrong. That’s the truth, isn’t it?’

  Ginnie stopped prevaricating.

  ‘Yes, Daddy.’

  Alex sighed.

  ‘You know how Mummy and I hate punishing you. But now I’ve got to.’

  ‘One of the people who shouted said you ought to take a strap to me.’

  ‘I don’t see how taking a strap to you fits the crime of frightening a poor mother by taking away her baby.’

  Ginnie leant against Alex.

  ‘Do you think you could decide on my punishment fairly soon? I absolutely hate things hanging over me.’

  Alex put his arm round her.

  ‘I’ll try to. It’ll hang over me too, you know.’

  Ginnie flung her arms round Alex’s neck.

  ‘Poor Daddy. I’m sorry, truly I am. But it’s so hot, and I’m so tired of looking after babies. I wanted to get the last baby over, and never look after a baby again. I was thinking such a lot about that, that I forgot it was wrong just to take a baby, and not ask its mother.’

  Alex held Ginnie to him.

  ‘I’m sure that’s true. But you must learn that nothing must ever so fill your mind you forget to think what is right, and what is wrong. I’m going to give you a punishment to help you to think about that.’

  ‘What’s it going to be?’

  Alex spoke slowly.

  ‘You took something that didn’t belong to you. Is that right?’ Ginnie nodded. ‘But your share of the next family treat does belong to you. Is that right?’

  Ginnie began to see what was coming.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Well, when the next family treat turns up, you must give your share of it away. I don’t mind who you give it to, but you have to give it away without any reminder from me.’

  ‘What sort of treat? It might be something simply gorgeous.’

  ‘I’m sure the poor mother thinks the baby you took simply gorgeous.’

  That was when Ginnie started the crying Paul had heard.

  ‘It’s all that beastly Dedication book. I don’t think “looked after baby” is grand enough Service. I wanted to get it over, and do something else.’

  Alex gave Ginnie his handkerchief.

  ‘I’ve not quite understood why that Dedication book is so important. There are plenty of other honours at St Winifred’s Miss Virginia Bell could win. She has always seemed quite happy without them, why is having the best Dedication book so vital a matter?’

  That was the last straw. A howl of woe came from Ginnie.

  ‘Silly Daddy! I don’t want to be top at lessons, or anything like that, I want to win something I’m the only one in the family can do. All the others are good at something, I’m not good at anything at all.’ Tears choked her. ‘You’d hate to be the only one who wasn’t good at anything, wouldn’t you, Daddy? You know you’d hate it. Oh, that beastly baby, I wish I’d never seen its horrid perambulator.’

  Jane found Cathy kneeling by the armchair, fixing its new cover.

  ‘Goodness, Mummy, when did you make that?’

  Cathy stood up and looked at her handiwork.

  ‘It was a house-coat of Aunt Rose’s. It came in that last parcel.’

  Jane walked round the chair.

  ‘It’s an awful colour, isn’t it?’

  ‘It is to me,’ Cathy agreed; ‘but I don’t think it can be really. Aunt Rose’s clothes all come from the best places, and I shouldn’t think they make cloths in awful colours at the best places.’

  Jane put her arms round Cathy and hugged her.
>
  ‘Oh, Mummy, how I wish I could jump suddenly from me learning to dance, to me being able to dance properly, and earning money for you and Daddy. I’d buy you everything, and you’d never, never again have to spend hours in hot weather cutting up a beastly old velvet house-coat to cover a chair.’

  Cathy kissed Jane.

  ‘Darling, don’t be so silly. Do you think I’d miss one minute of watching my children grow up for all the money in the world?’

  Jane felt as if quite easily she could cry.

  ‘I don’t mind us being poor, we have more fun than any other family I know. It’s only now, when we can’t have a holiday or anything, and when the relations come, that I feel low-spirited. When Aunt Rose and Uncle Alfred are here everything’s spoilt. We all fuss how the house looks, what we’re going to wear, and what we’re going to eat.’

  Cathy spoke gently and quietly.

  ‘Jane! Don’t get worked up, darling. You worry too much. You’re worrying now about what Aunt Rose is going to say about that chair, aren’t you?’

  ‘Only because she’ll look despisingly at you.’

  ‘But I don’t mind if she does. I’m too glad of her old brown velvet to cover the chair. It was a disgrace as it was.’

  Jane swallowed the lump in her throat.

  ‘I’m a silly fool to mind, and you’re an angel not to.’

  Cathy knelt down again to put in another nail.

  ‘They won’t stay long as they’re leaving tomorrow, that’s one comfort. I don’t know what punishment Daddy is giving poor Ginnie, but if he doesn’t send her to bed early, perhaps we could take supper to the park. It’ll be cool there.’

  It was a lovely idea. Then the piles of envelopes in her bedroom came to Jane’s mind.

  ‘I’m sorry, Mummy, Paul and I can’t go out tonight. We’re working at something.’

  Cathy hammered in another tack.

  ‘Are you? What at?’

  ‘A secret. I’ll just tell you it’s to do with Daddy.’