The Bell Family
Paul came running down the stairs.
‘What’s up?’
Cathy answered.
‘Jane’s turned a little faint. There, darling, I’ll just dab some of this water on your forehead.’
Paul leant over the banisters.
‘She ought to have her head between her knees.’
Mrs Gage made clicking sounds with her tongue.
‘You do look rough, Jane, and no mistake. If you were in a greengrocer’s I shouldn’t know you from a lettuce.’
Cathy felt the right place for Jane was bed.
‘Do you think if Paul and I helped you, darling, you could get up to your room? You ought to lie down.’
Jane tried to move, then lay back again.
‘In a minute. Everything’s still a bit come-ish and go-ish.’
It was at that moment that Alex, Ginnie and Angus came in. Alex was across the hall in three strides.
‘What’s happening?’
Cathy was glad to see him.
‘It’s Jane, she’s a little faint. I think she ought to be in bed. I was just saying Paul and I could help her upstairs.’
Alex stooped down and picked Jane up.
‘I’ll carry her.’
Jane wriggled.
‘Put me down, Daddy. I’m much too heavy.’
Alex marched up the stairs.
‘You weigh nothing at all. It’s many years since I’ve carried you, but it doesn’t seem to me you’ve grown much heavier.’
Jane rubbed her cheek against his sleeve.
‘It’s a good thing for a dancer to be light.’
‘But not so light we can almost see through her.’
At the top of the stairs Jane struggled to get out of Alex’s arms.
‘Please put me down here, Daddy, there’s things in my bedroom I don’t want you to see.’
Cathy saw Alex was going to argue, she laid her hand on his arm.
‘It’s this awful secret they’re working at. Put her in our room.’
Alex laid Jane on the bed and stroked the hair off her forehead.
‘There you are, darling. Would you like some brandy?’
Jane managed a half-laugh.
‘Of course not. I’m quite all right now. It was only that everything was a little bit fuzzy.’
Alex was terribly worried and looked it.
‘Very fuzzy I should think. The best thing for you is to stay quiet. Perhaps a cup of tea when you feel like it.’
The meeting that should have taken place in the study took place in Alex and Cathy’s bedroom after tea.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Alex, ‘to have a family council when you’re not well, Jane, darling, but a little clearing of the air is needed.’
‘You sound very solemn, Alex,’ said Cathy.
Alex sighed.
‘I feel solemn. Ginnie, put that money box on the dressing-table.’
Alex told Cathy, Paul and Jane what had happened that afternoon. Cathy, though she was shocked, could not help finding the story funny.
‘Begging! Oh, dear!’
Paul looked despairingly at Ginnie.
‘Of all the blithering idiots.’
Jane raised herself up on her elbow.
‘We told you not to bother.’
Alex turned to Paul.
‘Ginnie and Angus won’t tell me what they were collecting this money for, they say it’s a secret. Is that true?’
Paul nodded.
‘I’m afraid it is, Dad. But we never thought of anything so idiotic as begging.’ Then he turned to Ginnie. ‘You’re absolutely hopeless.’
Cathy thought of the hours Jane and Paul had spent shut up in their bedrooms.
‘Must it go on being a secret, Paul?’
Paul hesitated. He looked at Jane.
‘Seems silly to tell them now. After all, we don’t know it’ll come off.’ Then he turned to his father. ‘It isn’t anything you’d disapprove of, Dad. I mean, what Jane and I are doing isn’t. It’s only that idiot Ginnie ….’
Ginnie put her chin into the air.
‘Everybody always says “Oh, Ginnie!” Miss Virginia Bell thought it a very good idea.’
Alex’s face was grave.
‘That isn’t true, Ginnie. What happened was, you wanted something, and snatched at the first idea that came into your head, which would give you what you wanted. You knew it wasn’t right to beg, didn’t you?’
Ginnie was not admitting anything.
‘I said to Angus that it wasn’t perhaps the way everybody would think the best way.’
Alex turned to Angus.
‘And what did you say?’
‘I said I didn’t want to sing in the road, but it wasn’t because of begging.’
Jane leant over the bed to pat Esau.
‘The worst thing was making Esau wet. Poor blessed boy, he must have hated it.’
‘If you want to know,’ said Ginnie, ‘he got more money by looking miserable than Angus did by singing.’
Alex sounded sad.
‘I’m afraid Ginnie and Angus, you did something you knew was wrong, and so you will have to be punished.’
Paul tried to make Alex understand.
‘Begging was absolutely idiotic, but the idea behind the begging was all right.’
‘I dare say,’ said Alex, ‘though the end may have been right, the means was disgraceful, and both Ginnie and Angus are old enough to know it. The money that has been collected will go into the General Purpose Fund box in the church. But as it was collected under false pretences …’
Ginnie could have stamped, she thought Alex was being so stupid.
‘It wasn’t false pretences. We are poor, and it was quite a long time since lunch, so we might have been hungry….’
Alex went on as if Ginnie had not spoken.
‘As it was collected under false pretences, Ginnie and Angus will spend tomorrow earning money honestly. There are several hundred old hymn books in the parish hall, which need sorting, to see if any pages are missing. When they have been sorted you will each be given a shilling to go into the poor box, and as well you must put in this week’s pocket money.’ Glad talk of punishments was over Alex came across to Jane. ‘As for you, you bad girl, you ought to be punished too for giving us all a fright by fainting this afternoon. Mummy and I have been talking things over, and we’ve decided the trouble is that you need a holiday. We are sending you away.’
Jane sat up.
‘What! Just me? I won’t go by myself, I simply won’t.’
Cathy sat on the bed beside her.
‘You will. Daddy and I have decided that we’ll ask Uncle Jim and Aunt Ann if you can share Liza’s room in the inn they’re staying in.’
Jane was appalled.
‘Silly Mummy, it’ll cost an awful lot of money, and I don’t want to be the only one having a holiday.’
Cathy kissed her.
‘You won’t be. We’re going to try and get Paul into one of those fruit picking camps, and when they get back from France, we’re going to ask Grandfather and Grandmother if Daddy and I, Ginnie and Angus can stay with them for a bit.’
Jane knew how much Cathy disliked staying at Bradford. She almost got off the bed.
‘Mummy, if you think …’
Cathy put a hand on her.
‘Lie down, darling.’
‘I can’t lie down when you say things like that. You know I’d simply hate going to Berkshire all alone.’ She gazed imploringly at Paul. ‘Say something. You know I won’t go.’
‘It looks as if we’ll have to tell them,’ said Paul.
Jane nodded.
‘That’s what I thought.’
Cathy was pleased.
‘It’s the secret? Oh, darlings, do tell me. Like the Elephant’s child I’ve been dying of “satiable curiosity.”’
Together, one telling one bit, and the other another, with small interruptions from Ginnie and Angus, explaining how they too had tried to help only they co
uld not find a way, Jane and Paul told the whole story of the envelope addressing.
‘Oh, Mummy,’ said Jane, ‘you get paid one and threepence a hundred, and honestly it is the most dreadful way of earning that you ever, ever thought of. And you don’t get any more money for one tiny little name with four letters in it, than you do for dowager marchionesses, and people like those.’
Alex held out a hand to Ginnie.
‘So that’s what you and Angus were up to.’
Jane said:
‘Only Ginnie would ever think of begging by the side of the road, while Angus sang.’
‘But you do see it was partly our fault why they did it?’ said Paul.
Jane turned to Ginnie.
‘Had we been looking proud and despising because we were earning, and you weren’t?’
‘Not exactly,’ said Ginnie, ‘more miserable. Angus and me felt mean dogs not to be doing anything.’
Jane lolled against Cathy.
‘It’s been a failure though, the best I ever earned on any one day was six and threepence, once Paul earned seven and sixpence. But mostly it’s just shillings because we wasted such a lot of envelopes. We were certain we couldn’t get you a room anywhere for a week for less than ten pounds, and we’ve only got seven pounds something.’
‘It’s going on doing it for hour after hour that makes you slow,’ Paul explained, ‘after five hundred you make the most awful mistakes.’
Cathy gasped.
‘Five hundred envelopes! I should think you would make mistakes. It was lovely of you, darlings, but the money won’t be wasted, you’ll both have some to spend while you’re away.’
Jane was so disgusted she nearly bounced off the bed.
‘Do you think we slaved our fingers to the bone, worse than that, slaved them nearly off, to spend the money on ourselves? We earned that money for you and Daddy, and it’s going to be spent on you and Daddy, isn’t it, Paul?’
Mrs Gage opened the bedroom door.
‘Sorry, all, but I was just ’ome, an’ sittin’ down to me tea when it come over me that as young Jane was doin’ ’er faintin’ act a letter come for young Ginnie. I put it in me pocket.’
‘Dear Mrs Gage,’ said Cathy, ‘you shouldn’t have come back.’
‘Well, I wouldn’t ’ave, only there was some for you, Vicar, which might be important, I put them in the study.’ She nodded at Jane. ‘Good night, dear, try and look a bit less like a tired cucumber in the mornin’.’
The children were looking admiringly at Ginnie’s letter. It was typed, and had a French stamp. It was not often that Ginnie had a letter, she took her time opening it.
Cathy let Ginnie enjoy the grandeur of being the only one to have a letter, until it was properly out of its envelope. Then she said pleadingly:
‘Would you read it out loud, Ginnie? We’re all dying of curiosity.’
Ginnie, from complete gloom, because of the punishment tomorrow, and not being allowed to keep the money in her money box, was now bursting with happiness. She looked in the proudest way round the family.
‘Very well, as you’ve asked me, Mummy, I will.’ Then she smoothed out the letter. Because it was typed it was easy to read.
DEAR GRANDDAUGHTER,
You will, I think, be leaving shortly for that posh hotel by the sea, of which you told me. I shall enjoy thinking of you going round endlessly on the free giant racer, every now and again pausing to help yourself to the free ice cream, standing in the lounge. I feel, in spite of all the luxury that is to be yours, there may still be a few pleasures which you could enjoy more fully with money in your purse. If you will look in this envelope, you will find something which may be of use to you. With every best wish for a most enjoyable holiday, from your affectionate
GRANDFATHER
Everybody was so startled by the letter that nobody spoke. Ginnie, who was almost too excited to know what she was doing, picked up the envelope off the floor where it had dropped. At first there did not seem to be anything inside it, then she drew out a piece of pink paper. Ginnie did not know what it was, so Paul took it from her. It was a cheque for fifty pounds.
15
Holiday by the Sea
GINNIE WANTED TO stay in a posh hotel, but she gave up the idea when Alex told her how much posh hotels cost. He said:
‘I think it was your choosing so very grand a hotel that made Grandfather guess you could not really be going to stay in one.’
Ginnie, of course, told the family exactly what she had told Grandfather, but it was very difficult to get the story out, they laughed so much.
‘Free ice cream in the lounge,’ said Jane. ‘Oh, Ginnie, what a gorgeous idea!’
Paul laughed so much he had to lie on the floor.
‘A fun fair in the garden! Free rides all day long on a giant racer!’
But of course, though fifty pounds would not take the family to a posh hotel, it would take them somewhere. Nor would fifty pounds be all; besides paying the fares Alex could manage to add a bit, and of course there was Paul and Jane’s envelope money. Still, the largest part of the money was Ginnie’s, so it was for her to decide where they went.
‘Has Miss Virginia Bell any idea where she would like to go?’ Alex asked.
Ginnie shook her head firmly.
‘No, Daddy. You’ll be surprised, because having this cheque is much the grandest thing which has ever happened to her, but Miss Virginia Bell doesn’t want to be the only one to choose.’
‘But somebody has to choose, darling,’ Cathy pointed out.
‘I know,’ said Ginnie. ‘But I think we’ll all choose somewhere, and then we’ll draw the places out of Daddy’s hat to see where we go.’
Jane chose the Sussex downs. Paul Devonshire, somewhere on Exmoor. Ginnie wanted Blackpool.
‘There isn’t anything else there, except giant racers, and those motor cars that whizz round, and things like that. I think a place that is nothing but a fun fair is the most perfect place for a holiday.’
Angus chose a farm anywhere. Alex wanted Cambridge. He had never been back there since his undergraduate days. Cathy was the last to make up her mind.
‘When I was little I had measles, and I was taken to Kent to stay at Hythe. I don’t know what it’s like now, but I remember a great bay with miles and miles of sea. Oh, and there were donkeys giving rides on the sea front, and scarlet poppies everywhere. I should like to go to Hythe.’
When Alex had written the places he passed the hat to Ginnie and told her to pick out one. The paper had Hythe written on it. Cathy had won. Angus went mad-doggish with excitement.
‘We’re going away! We’re going away! The Bells are going to Hythe!’
Perhaps because they had not expected to go away, or perhaps because they all so badly needed a change, none of the family ever forgot their holiday in Hythe. They stayed in lodgings quite near the sea. Their landlady, who was made in two bulges like a cottage loaf, was called Mrs Primrose. Before Mrs Primrose had married Mr Primrose she had been a children’s nannie, and nothing made her happier than when her rooms were taken by a family with children. She was a wonderful cook, and her great idea was to see the family swell out. By using every penny that could be spared, they managed to stay with her for three weeks, and by the third week the change in them all was startling.
‘When you came,’ Mrs Primrose said in her cosy voice, ‘it was as if six ghosts walked in. Now look at you! Why, even Jane has plumped up, which I thought she never would.’
The weather was kind, and the family practically lived on the beach, and in the sea. They did a few special things. A trip on the smallest railway in the world to Dungeness, across land reclaimed by the Romans when they occupied England. One never to be forgotten evening, they went a bust, and took tickets to see Hythe’s Venetian Fête. They did not know until they got to Hythe there would be a Venetian Fête, but Mrs Primrose talked about it so much they felt they had to see it, and how glad they were that they had. It was like a fai
ry story come true. Float after float drifting by, either beautiful to look at or very, very funny. Angus laughed so much at one of the funny floats that he fell off his chair and very nearly dropped into the canal. Sometimes Alex and Jane went to the canal to fish. They caught nothing, but it was lovely sitting on the bank, watching dragonflies, and, when they were lucky, seeing a heron fish for his lunch. Ginnie found a really magnificent hotel called The Imperial. It had a wonderful garden, tennis, croquet and a golf course.
‘Nothing,’ she said to Alex, ‘could look posher than this hotel. I shall send Grandfather a post card of it. I won’t tell a lie and say we’re staying there, I’ll say “This is a lovely place,” which is true, and might mean the hotel, or just mean Hythe.’
One of the most exciting things about the holiday in Hythe was that Ginnie discovered she had a talent. At St Winifred’s the girls went to the swimming baths once a week, and if they were keen they could go on Saturday mornings. Ginnie had learnt to swim, and had often been told by the swimming instructor that she could be a fine swimmer if she worked. Somehow what he said had never sunk in, and Ginnie had spent most of her time at the swimming baths fooling round, and ducking her friend Alison. But now, swimming in the open sea, she found that swimming was a gorgeous thing to do. She was like a little porpoise in the water, turning over and standing on her head, but every day she swam farther, and she swam better. Paul was amazed.
‘I say, Dad, Ginnie’s really good. I know I’m not much of a swimmer, but I could beat Ginnie when we first got here, now I can’t.’
Alex had noticed Ginnie too.
‘If she keeps it up when she gets back to London I think she’s going to be outstanding. She cuts through the water like a torpedo.’
Ginnie, when Cathy spoke to her about her swimming, took it quite for granted.
‘I think I’ll be the sort of girl who swims the Channel.’
Alex laughed.
‘What about the Olympic Games? Or do you despise them?’
Angus’s great joy was the donkeys. Every day he rode them up and down the sea front. He christened his favourite Balaam, and refused to change the name when Ginnie pointed out his mistake.
‘Such ignorance for the son of a vicar! Balaam rode on an ass, my boy, it wasn’t the ass’s name.’