went on. Yet I couldn't help hoping she wouldn't try to concern
herself too deeply with the business. It wasn't so much
the problem of the girl who says she's keen to help but only
succeeds in wasting others' time and getting in the way. I
thought better of her than that. It was, rather, that I didn't
want to see her take up a difficult subject without realizing
what was involved (there is far more to antique pottery
and porcelain than most people realize), pursue it for a little
at a relatively superficial level and then drop it. That would
ill become her style and dignity. Still, by all means let her
run her beautiful fingers over the glazes of a few pieces, if
186
she liked, and feel the difference between them. At least it
would give the pieces pleasure, if I knew anything about it.
Stones have been known to move and trees to speak. A porcelain
gentleman in tight, flowered breeches 'Well,
there'll be some nice things for you to see, darling,
unless Deirdre's sold them all, which is unlikely, I'm afraid.
Now do play me some more Bach before we go to bed -'
'- Again.'
16
'YOU'RE quiet, mein Lieber,' said Kathe the next morning, as
we drove down Wash Hill. 'What are you thinking about?'
'To tell you the truth, I was trying to give myself a bit of
encouragement by reflecting on some of the Newbury men
in days gone by who must have coped successfully with
tough situations. Sir John Boyes, Tommy Dolman, Jack o'
Newbury -'
'Jack o' Newbury - whoever was he?'
'His real name was John Winchcombe, and he was the
chap who first made Newbury prosperous, about five hundred
years ago. He started as an apprentice in the cloth trade, and
then he married his master's widow and somehow or other
got himself into favour with Henry VIII. He was one of the
first self-made capitalists, really - rise of the middle classes
and all that. He had more than a hundred looms going in
Newbury, and negotiated a trade agreement with Flanders
on his own initiative. And he built the church - St Nicholas.
It's a beauty. But the story about him I like best is how he
led thirty of his own men to Flodden and reported to the
queen before the battle.'
'To the queen? Not the king?'
'Well, you see, Henry VIII was off on a campaign in
France, and the Scotchmen thought this would be a good
chance to invade England. But the queen, Catherine of
Aragon - she played a big part in getting an English army
together, and they beat the Scots and killed the Scotch king.
187
Jack o' Newbury was there, with thirty bowmen - his own
chaps, all fitted out by himself. I dare say he reckoned it
might do him a bit of good later. Anyhow, apparently, on
the way up, he reported to the queen and knelt before her,
and she was so impressed with the blokes and their turn-out
that she said, "Rise, gentleman," and old Jack replied, "Your
Majesty, I am no gentleman, for my rentes come from the
backes of little sheepes, but by your favour we are here to
serve our kynge." '
' 'Sounds as if he knew how to treat a lady, anyway. And
you say he started from nothing?'
'Yes, he did. Encouraging sort of chap. There's a ballad "The
Cheshire lads were brisk and brave
And the Kendall lads as free,
But none surpassed, or I'm a knave,
The lads of Newberrie."
'I've often hoped I might meet his ghost one night - down
the Wharf, perhaps, or along the Kennet towpath. I'd enjoy
a chat with him.'
'I don't believe in ghosts, do you?'
'Well, I always feel like Dr Johnson: "All argument is
against it; but all belief is for it." '
'When I was at school the girls used to tell ghost stories.'
'Oh - is that why you're afraid of the dark?'
'Not a bit! It ran off me like duck's water.'
This made me laugh, so that I nearly missed the turning
into the Northcroft to park the car. No doubt, I reflected,
locking up and casting a piscatorial eye at the stream to see
whether there were any spent mayfly, Jack o' Newbury had
handled a few tricky financial problems in his time: but I
doubted whether even his master's widow had constituted
as strong an imponderable asset as the one standing beside
me now.
Coming out into Northbrook Street Kathe stood still for
a few moments looking about her.
'Most of these buildings are old, aren't they?'
'More than two hundred years, some of them.'
188
'They're beautiful. But why were people allowed to put in
these modern shop-fronts on the ground floors? They're not
right at all.'
'A lot of that was done back in the 'twenties and 'thirties.
But it's pretty well the same all over the south of England,
I'm afraid. Money talks, you know.'
'Well, we'd better go and listen to it, darling. But I'd like
to slip out and have a look round the town later on.'
'So you shall.'
Before reaching the shop, however, we had an unexpected
encounter. About fifty yards up the street I felt a touch on
my arm.
'Good morning, Alan! How are you? You've been away for
a little while, haven't you?'
It was Mrs Stannard, complete with stick and basket;
evidently getting the shopping done early. I had always got
on with her well enough, though since the time when Barbara
and I had stopped seeing so much of each other our
relations, as was only to be expected, had become a trifle
formal. It was perhaps a little surprising that she had gone
out of her way to come up and speak: but then she might
have heard something intriguing on the grape-vine.
'Oh, Mrs Stannard - how nice to see you! Yes, I've been
abroad for the last month. By the way, may I introduce my
wife? Kathe - Mrs Stannard, an old friend.'
'Your wife? Goodness me, Alan, I hadn't any idea! How
d'you do?'
Mrs Stannard shook hands, her eyes taking in Kathe from
head to foot. Then she turned back to me.
'Well, this is a surprise, Alan! You go off abroad and
come home with a beautiful wife! You're a real dark horse,
aren't you? Surely you kept it very quiet?'
'Well, we were married in Florida; quite recently, as a
matter of fact. I was over there on business, you know, and
everything happened with speed.'
'How nice!' said Mrs Stannard, including Kathe in a warm
smile. 'You come from Florida?'
'Well, I've just come back from Florida,' answered Kathe,
smiling in turn. 'I vasn't borrn dere, of course.' In the slight
189
exaggeration of her accent I could recognize teasing, and
realized that I was enjoying this.
'No, of course,' replied Mrs Stannard rather vaguely, as
though already aware that the birth-rate in Florida was point
nought one per hundred thousand. 'Well, I do hope we shall
be seeing more of each other. And I hope your
dear mother
didn't find the journey too trying?' she added to me.
I admired this, but played forward to get on top of the
break.
'Well, she and I both decided it might be a bit much for
her, really - the heat at this time of year, you know, and the
humidity out there's very trying for people who aren't used
to it. Since Kathe and I were coming back so soon anyway,
Mother and I thought it best for her not to attempt the
journey. And then, of course, the shop's rather a tie, you
know - someone has to be here to keep an eye on it. That's
just what we're on the point of going to do, actually, so
we'll have to be getting along now, I'm afraid. But do drop
in some time - that would be nice - bring Barbara round I'm
sure she'd like to meet Kathe.'
Dance and exeunt.
'That'll roll under its own steam now,' I said to Kathe.
' 'Probably be in the Newbury News on Thursday.'
At Kathe's suggestion I went into the shop first, leaving
her to follow in about five minutes. Deirdre, in her green,
button-down-the-front shop coat with 'Desland' embroidered
across the breast pocket, was lifting jugs one by one as she
dusted a shelf. Looking round and seeing me, she threw down
the duster and came across almost at a run.
'Cor, Mistralan, enn I glad to see you! Dear oh law, we've
'ad ever such a time since you bin away!'
'Oh, I'm sorry to hear that, Deirdre. But I'm very glad to
see you, too.' I was touched that she seemed to be in quite
an emotional state. 'Well, here I am, anyway. Sit down a
minute and tell me all about it. Nothing too badly wrong, I
hope?'
'Well, not zackly, Mistralan, but it's bin ever such a worry.
You never tells us, see, when you was to be expected, an"
190
we didn' know what to think, like, until yesterday, when the
reverend gentleman come in and says you was due back today.
On'y what with Mrs Desland bein' away from - oh,
when was it? - week last Thursday - that's three days last
week and all this week we bin on our own, and my Dad, 'e
says, "Well, t'aint good enough," 'e says. "You'd best be
lookin' for somewheres else, my girl, seein' as you ain't bin
paid an' ain't bin told nothin' 'bout what you got to do." So
I says, "No, I ain't goin'," I says, " 'cause I likes the job an'
I reckon Mistralan'Il be back 'fore the end o' the week,' I
says. So then 'e says, "There's all that valyable stuff down
there," 'e says, "an" just the two of you to look after it.
Someone'll get t'ear an' come in to pinch it, p'raps knock
you cold an' all. It ain't right an' I ain't goin' t'ave my
daughter runnin' the risk," 'e says. Oh, 'e didn't 'alf go on!'
'Oh, Deirdre, I'm so sorry -'
'So I says, "Mistralan's on 'is "oneymoon," I says. " 'E's
got somethin' better to do just now," I says, "than bother 'is
'ead 'bout the shop." But then I gets to thinkin' about someone
comin' in, like Dad says, and violence an' that, like what
you sees in the papers, an' I couldn't 'elp gett'n' ever s' worried.
I wasn't goin' to come in Monday-'
'Deirdre, it's all my fault and I'm very sorry, indeed I am.
I'm terribly grateful to you. You were quite right, you know,
I got a bit carried away. But you just wait till it's your
turn -'
A sharp little grin of appetite. She'd got it off her chest and
was feeling better.
'Look, anyway, I do hope it's all right now. Here's your
money, in this envelope, and a bit extra on account of all
you've done for us.' (I'd already thought of that. I only hoped
to God the cheque wouldn't bounce.) 'I really don't know
what we'd have done without you. Do you know, I saw Mr
Steinberg in Florida' (I hadn't, of course, but it sounded
better) 'and he particularly asked to be remembered to you
and said how much you'd taught him about Moth and
Flower -'
'Mrs Desland comin' back then, Mistralan, is she? On'y
191
she seemed that much upset 'fore she went, and she never
told us before'and, on'y just run up that Thursday morning
an' says she wouldn't be in 'cause she was goin' down to
Bristol.'
'Oh, yes, she'll be back soon. But don't you think mothers
often feel a bit lost when their sons get married -'
'Well, I reckon p'raps she didn't just altogether fancy the
way as you went about it, Mistralan -'
At this moment I was saved by the bell - literally - as
Kathe came in.
'Anyway, Deirdre, let me introduce you to the cause of all
the trouble. This is the other Mrs Desland. Kathe - Deirdre
Cripps.'
It knocked Deirdre cold; I could see that. Like a little girl,
she shook hands in shy embarrassment, without a word, and
I rather thought she came within half a plank of bobbing a
curtsey. Kathe, all smiles, began chatting to her about the
shop and the china, and after getting a few monosyllabic
replies drew her out by picking up one or two pieces and
asking direct questions about them. I left them together and
went up the glass passage towards the sound of Mrs Taswell's
typewriter.
It was always virtually impossible to infer what might have
been happening from anything Mrs Taswell might tell you
of her own accord; let alone to learn by means of direct questions.
She was a person quite likely to walk past some
catastrophic occurrence - a bad traffic accident, say - and
never mention it at all, but then to talk at great length about
a complete triviality, such as a 'bus conductor's rudeness or
a lost handkerchief. She had her own personal and highly
idiosyncratic scale of values and priorities - rather like a
domestic cat - but, like a cat, she also possessed dignity and
an attractive appearance. I suppose that to those about us,
most of us often seem at one and the same time both a
liability and an asset, but few to such a marked degree as
Mrs Taswell.
She rose unhurriedly, smiled and shook hands with me like
a hostess.
'Good morning, Mr Desland. How nice to see you back!'
192
'It's nice to see you again, Mrs Taswell. How are things
with you?'
'Well, of course, it has been raining a lot, Mr Desland,
as you may or may not know, but then I dare say you didn't
get very much of it where you were. I think everything's
been quite uneventful while you've been away. Only I can't
help thinking there's a mouse somewhere. I've thought so
for some time - I found some droppings - I swept them up,
of course - but I didn't actually buy a trap, because I wasn't
sure whether you'd want me to incur the expense -'
'Any letters?'
'Letters?' Mrs Taswell seemed to be trying to remember
what the unusual word meant. 'Let me see - oh, well, one or
two, Mr Desland. Yes. There's one from that Mr Per Simonsen
at Bing and Grondle in Copenhagen, and one from
Phillips, Son and Neale in London
about an auction -'
'What's that one lying on top there?'
'Oh, that man's been a great nuisance, Mr Desland. He's
kept on ringing up, and I said-'
'Hang on a sec. Let me just have a look.'
It was a courteous but distinctly crisp letter, dated nearly
three weeks earlier - the envelope showed recorded delivery
- from one of our wholesalers, pointing out that we had
apparently overlooked their invoice of March and requesting
immediate payment.
'Have you answered this?'
'No, certainly not, Mr Desland. I wasn't going to have
anything to do with people like that. But then, as I said, the
man who signed it, Mr Hatchett, has been ringing up, asking
for you - oh, twice this week, I think, or was it three
times? - they say three times is lucky, don't they? -'
'What did you say to him?'
'Well, of course, I told him you weren't here; so then he
asked when you'd be back and I told him it was no business
of his -'
'Did you say where I was?'
'Certainly not, Mr Desland! Of course I wasn't going to
tell him where you were. Actually I'm not at all sure where
Florida is, but I expect you are -'
193
'Well, that's fine, Mrs Taswell. Thank you very much for
looking after everything so well. By the way, here's your
money -'
'Oh, that doesn't matter, Mr Desland. That's quite immaterial.
You shouldn't have bothered in the least.' (I knew
she must have been short.) 'I can perfectly well manage, you
know -'
'No, here you are. I've added a little extra -'
'I've told you before, Mr Desland, I shall only put it in the
collection -'
'Well, that's up to you. I suppose Mr Hatchett -'
'And about the mouse-trap, Mr Desland -'
'Oh, yes: yes. I'll get one, don't you bother any more
about it. By the way, my wife's here; she's talking to Deirdre
at the moment. She very much wants to meet you. I wonder,
would you care to go down and make her feel at home for a
few minutes?'
'Well, if you wish me to, Mr Desland, of course.'
I proceeded to telephone Mr Hatchett, who was ruffled,
completely nonplussed by the inexplicable Mrs Taswell but
finally more or less mollified, and assured him that his cheque
was in the post. (It wasn't, of course, but it would darned
well have to be before close of play.) I then descended into
the depths of Mrs Taswell's 'In' tray, shuddering at every
step, and soon became so much absorbed that I even forgot
about Kathe.
Towards the end of the morning I had dealt with the more
urgent correspondence, checked the turnover and holdings
of most of our non-antique stock, given Mrs Taswell a list
of items for orders to wholesalers and, after a quick glance
through such catalogues and notices of sales as had arrived
while I had been away, planned my programme for the next
three weeks. Shortage of capital was going to be the principal
problem. Since it was Saturday I could not talk to the bank,
but I had already worked out that I must be even lower
than I had feared. I would have to raise a loan (and find the
interest) or else sell some pieces from my private collection.
Either prospect was depressing, and I postponed a decision
194
r
until next week. Flick's detached opinion was likely to be
helpful: it often had been in the past.
At least I could hear customers coming and going with
pleasing frequency, and supposed, since she had not come
to ask for my help or Mrs Taswell's, that Deirdre must be
coping with them. I was just thinking of knocking off for an
early lunch when Kathe strolled into the office, wearing a
'Desland' shop-coat and drying her wet hands on a sheet of
tissue.
'Cor, no towel in the loo, Mistralan?' she said happily. 'I
bet it's different at Bing & Gr0ndahl.'
'Kathe! Whatever have you been up to?'
'Working, of course. This coat looks rather professional,
don't you think? I've sold twelve white plates, two china dogs
and an ashtray made to look like a bird's nest.'
'You never?'
'But of course. Oh, yes, and there's been one person someone
called Lady Alice - er -'
'Mendip ?'
'Yes, that's right.'
'I know her; lives out at Cold Ash. She's hooked on modern
Copenhagen - I hooked her myself. She knows quite a
bit about it now. Nice old girl. What did she want?'
'She wanted us to get her some Danish pieces by Hans
Tegner - the Blind Man's Buff set. I pretended I knew all
about it.'
'Well, we can get them all right, but it's going to cost her.
The Girl in a Swing Page 22
