Collected Works of E M Delafield

by E M Delafield

  “I think I can put you in touch with the right man. He specializes in these nervous cases. That puts off the Public School question for at least a year.”

  So Terry wasn’t going to a Public School for at least a year! Julia hoped he wasn’t going to mind. After all, heaps of boys didn’t go till they were fourteen. She had almost made up her mind to move away when she heard her own name.

  “... Julia without any difficulty. Her grandmother is only too anxious to help, about the new school. She doesn’t care for the present one and I suppose if she’s going to pay she’s entitled to a choice. But she won’t undertake—”

  Julia heard no more.

  She was going to a new school, was she. They might have told her a bit sooner!

  She hoped it would be a big school and that they’d have a good swimming-bath. An anxious thought crossed her mind that, if grandmama was going to help choose the school, it would quite likely be a horribly old-fashioned one.

  There was the sound of a chair being pushed back.

  Perhaps they were coming out.

  Julia tiptoed rapidly back into the waiting-room again.

  XVII

  WITH the usual frightful suddenness, the end of the holidays arrived.

  Terry and Julia were sent back to London, this time to a place called the Farley Hotel near Oxford Street, where grandmama was staying.

  Mummie was there too but not uncle Tom.

  Julia was very pleased to be at the hotel where there was a menu at every meal and a lift to take one up and downstairs. She had never before had four whole days in any hotel.

  The chief drawback was that not much time seemed to be actually spent in the hotel — except in bed at night. In the day-time they were always hurrying to some shop or other, or else Terry was going to see Dr. Dubillier. Julia wasn’t sent there again, and from what she could make out Terry’s visits were pretty dull. The doctor, he said, talked and talked, and the only part which was at all amusing was when he sometimes made Terry tell his dreams.

  “And do you?” said Julia.

  “Some of them,” Terry answered. “Not all.”

  Julia said, One couldn’t help wondering what was the sense of going to see a doctor just to tell him about some of one’s dreams.

  She watched Terry rather anxiously as she said this, feeling that there must be something more in his visits to Dr. Dubillier, about which she hadn’t been told. But he only sighed, and looked very troubled, and shook his head.

  Julia’s secret anxiety was increased by her certainty that grandmama absolutely disapproved of Dr. Dubillier altogether. She knew this by the way in which mummie always hustled Terry off when he was going there and never uttered the doctor’s name in front of grandmama or spoke about him. And once, when Terry himself said something about his next appointment, grandmama made a sort of exclamation under her breath — and although Julia didn’t hear what it was she knew by the sound that it meant she was angry and worried. Perhaps it was because it was Petah who had suggested Dr. Dubillier — but Julia, on the whole, was afraid it meant that grandmama knew the doctor wasn’t any good at all for Terry. Perhaps, even, that he was definitely bad.

  On the last afternoon they were given a very satisfactory treat, taken to see a Mickey Mouse film and a long one with Clark Gable in it, and given tea at Fuller’s.

  In the evening grandmama — tactfully, Julia felt — disappeared and they were left by themselves with mummie.

  They sat in a corner of the hotel lounge and ate chocolates and mummie talked to them. It rather reminded Julia of the time, ages and ages ago, when she’d told them about her and daddy not wanting to live together any more.

  In thinking about this, unfortunately Julia missed part of what mummie was saying. When she was attending again she gathered that it had been about going to India.

  Mummie and uncle Tom really were going but not till the spring.

  “For how long?” asked Terry.

  Mummie said she didn’t quite know.

  Julia didn’t believe her and was shocked. Uncle Tom had distinctly said it might be for a year or it might be for two years. If he knew, of course mummie knew too.

  Perhaps she thought it would make Terry too miserable, to be told.

  The next thing was that Julia, said mummie, would be going to a new school after Christmas. It was in Gloucestershire and not so very far from Chepstow, and grandmama would be able to go and see her from time to time and have her at the Plás for half-term.

  “Oh, good,” said Julia, cheered. “Perhaps Terry’s half-term will be the same as mine and he could come too. That’d be fun. Or would it be too expensive, all the way from Sussex?”

  She really had forgotten for the minute that probably Terry wouldn’t be at school in Sussex any more by then.

  She remembered it the moment she saw Terry and mummie look at one another.

  Then mummie said: “Terry knows already that he’s leaving St. Gregory’s at the end of this term and that he isn’t going on to his next school immediately. He’ll spend a little while first with a very nice tutor who takes just a few boys, at a lovely place in Norfolk.”

  More changes!

  Julia felt quite dizzy. It seemed as if nothing ever lasted for more than about five minutes. She looked at Terry, to see how he felt about it all and he said very nicely:

  “I only knew this morning, and the cinema put it out of my head.”

  He meant that she wasn’t to be hurt because he hadn’t told her sooner, and Julia nodded reassuringly. She quite understood.

  Suddenly she felt that she’d heard quite enough about new plans, and changes. She didn’t want to think about any of them any more.

  “Couldn’t you read to us?” she demanded plaintively, in the very middle of something mummie was saying about how she was always thinking of what would be best for them and make them happiest.

  Mummie looked at Julia as though, if it hadn’t been the last evening, she might have been cross. But she only said “Is that what you’d like?” and Julia, after looking at Terry and seeing that he felt rather like she did, said “Yes, please.”

  Mummie read them some terribly funny stories by P. G. Wodehouse until it was time to wash for dinner. One great advantage of being at the hotel was that Julia and Terry had late dinner every night.

  When they came down again to wait for mummie and grandmama in the lounge, Julia asked Terry if he was pleased or sorry about going to Norfolk.

  “Oh,” said Terry rather wearily, “I don’t know. There have been such heaps of changes just lately that I don’t think a few more will make much difference either way.”

  “Anyway there’ll be the Christmas holidays first,” said Julia comfortingly.

  It wasn’t till she was actually in bed, thinking it over, that Julia realized she didn’t, as a matter of fact, know where they were going for their Christmas holidays.

  She decided that she must find this out next morning. She’d feel such a fool when the other girls talked about the holidays if she didn’t even know where hers were going to be spent.

  The next morning was rather a rush.

  Terry, whose train didn’t go till the afternoon, had another appointment with the dentist and although he could perfectly well have gone by himself mummie was going with him. Julia didn’t exactly mind this — in fact for Terry’s sake she was glad — but she did feel that, after all, she was the one who was going away that very morning. Mummie, as if guessing what was in her mind, said that she would be at the station with Terry in time to see Julia off.

  “Who is taking me to the station?” Julia asked.

  It appeared that grandmama was.

  Just before they started for the station the hotel porter came up to Julia and said that she was wanted on the telephone.

  “Me!” said Julia, startled and gratified.

  She went into the telephone-box in the hall and picked up the receiver.

  “Is that you, Julia?” said daddy’s voice.

>   He had rung up to say goodbye.

  “Have a good term, poppet. If I can manage it, I’ll run down and see you some Saturday afternoon.”

  “Oh, thank you,” said Julia.

  “Petah sends her love.”

  “Please give her mine,” Julia responded politely.

  “Would you like to speak to her? She’s here.”

  Julia couldn’t imagine what she was going to find to say to Petah, but she couldn’t very well refuse and presently she heard Petah’s drawly voice.

  “Hallo, there!”

  “Hallo.”

  “Hope you have a good term and all that.”

  “Thank you,” said Julia.

  There was a pause.

  “Well, don’t paint the school scarlet if you can help it. See you at Christmas. We’ll go to the pantomime or something. Farewell!”

  Petah had rung off.

  Did she mean that Terry and Julia were going to spend Christmas with her and daddy? Julia was damned if she was going to sleep at Mrs. Capper’s flat on Christmas Eve. Why, she probably wouldn’t even expect one to hang up a stocking! Besides, Terry and Julia always looked at their Christmas stockings together.

  She walked thoughtfully back into the hall.

  “Well?” said grandmama, smiling.

  “It was daddy, to say goodbye to me.”

  Grandmama’s smile changed. It was still a smile but it looked sort of pinned-on.

  “That was very kind of daddy,” she said in a careful sort of voice. “Now darling, you’d better go and get your hat on. We ought to be starting.”

  Julia went up to the hotel bedroom, taking the lift though it was only on the first floor and it would have been quicker to walk. Her suitcase was already packed and fastened, standing in the very middle of the floor. On it lay her blue school coat and blue felt hat with the school ribbon. Already, wearing her school uniform and tie, she felt quite a different person — old and responsible, and not at all like the Julia of the holidays.

  She put on the hat, picked up the coat and suitcase and went down again in the lift.

  Grandmama was waiting, all ready, and the taxi was at the door.

  Julia felt rather solemn and as they drove along the streets grandmama held her hand, which made her feel worse.

  “It won’t seem so very long before the holidays are round again,” said grandmama — as grown-ups always did say.

  “I wish we were going to be at the Plás for Christmas, with you and Chang,” suddenly said Julia.

  “So do I, my darling. Perhaps at Easter we shall be able to arrange something. I’m afraid grandpapa mustn’t spend the winter months in the damp and the cold. Besides, mummie will want to have you with her for the Christmas holidays, won’t she?”

  “I thought we were going to be with daddy. At least, he said something about going to the pantomime, just now,” Julia said, not liking to tell grandmama that it was really Petah who’d been talking the last part of the time.

  “Oh no,” said grandmama in a very decided way. “That’s quite a mistake. You’re to be with mummie for the whole of next holidays. That’s been settled quite definitely. Poor little thing, you’ll be glad not to have so much moving about, I expect.”

  But what about Terry? thought Julia in an agony. It would be simply awful, with uncle Tom going on in his disgusting way through the whole of the Christmas holidays. I don’t see how I’m going to manage, thought Julia desperately. She could only hope, without very much confidence, that perhaps uncle Tom, by some extraordinarily lucky chance, might die before the holidays started.

  She looked up at grandmama, and was quite startled to find that grandmama was already looking at her, with a very odd expression.

  “You see, Julia dear, it’s not really a very good thing for you and Terry to have all these changes. I don’t suppose you’ve either of you liked it very much, have you. And it’s rather difficult for mummie to keep on altering arrangements, too. And there’s another thing.” Grandmama stopped, and Julia continued to look at her.

  She somehow felt sure that she was going to hate whatever it was that grandmama meant to say next.

  She even, in order to stop her from saying it, pointed to an old man on the pavement selling balloons and cried: Oh, look! but grandmama didn’t take the slightest notice.

  “Terry, I’m afraid, hasn’t been very happy at his school, or done very well there, and so he’s not going back after this term.”

  “I know,” said Julia.

  “Mummie has been told about a — a kind of school in Norfolk, where they only take one or two boys who aren’t quite like — who don’t get on very well at bigger schools. She wants to send Terry there.”

  “I know,” said Julia again. It made her feel rather cross to be told what was going to be done with Terry by grandmama, as if she wasn’t a much nearer relation to him than grandmama was.

  “Did mummie tell you about it?”

  “Yes,” said Julia, wishing that she dared to add or course.

  Then grandmama sighed heavily, sounding so fearfully worried that Julia felt almost frightened.

  “Isn’t it a nice place?” she asked.

  “I’m sure it’s a nice place, darling. Mummie wouldn’t send Terry anywhere that wasn’t nice, would she?”

  Julia knew immediately, from the way grand-mama said this, that she didn’t really believe it, and was only backing up mummie.

  Gosh, how awful.

  More to reassure herself than grandmama, Julia made a suggestion.

  “Probably they’ll have changed their minds again, before next term. I shouldn’t be a bit surprised if he never went there after all, but just stayed on at St. Gregory’s till it’s time for his Public School. Or aren’t they going to send him to a Public School at all?”

  “Terry will have to go to a Public School,” said grandmama very firmly, “whatever anybody may say. It’s part of a gentleman’s education — and a most important part. And as for all this modern nonsense—”

  The modern nonsense, Julia supposed, was Dr. Dubillier. It was he who had thought of this Norfolk place, she felt certain.

  “If Terry isn’t happy there, he won’t have to stay, will he?”

  “No — no, of course not, darling. We must hope he will be happy there, and that it will do him good.

  After all, he’ll like being in the country better than being in London, won’t he?”

  “He’s only in London for the holidays,” Julia pointed out, “and not always then. And ‘Rosslyn’ isn’t exactly in London, is it? Or do you suppose that mummie will have got some other house, for the Christmas holidays?”

  “Julia dear, I don’t know. Would you be dreadfully disappointed if you and Terry didn’t have Christmas together?”

  Julia felt exactly as if something had banged her, very hard and unexpectedly, on her head.

  “What did you say?” she asked carefully.

  “You see, my pet, it’s very unsettling for poor Terry, and for you too, to be moving from one place to another all the time. And Terry isn’t very happy at ‘Rosslyn,’ is he? Besides, a boy of Terry’s age needs a father.”

  “There isn’t room—” began Julia.

  Then she suddenly felt she didn’t want to go on talking about it.

  “Oh well, it isn’t nearly Christmas yet,” she said carelessly. “Look, grandmama, that car’s moving before the lights have changed.” She felt certain that she couldn’t really have heard what grandmama had said.

  At the station there were crowds of people. Grandmama prepared to get into rather a fuss, but Julia knew exactly where the special school train would start from and she marched down to it, seeing a great many of the other girls on the way. She smiled and nodded at the ones she knew best, but they didn’t speak to one another.

  Julia got into the reserved coach, looked about at the various bags on the seats and placed her own next to one with the initials of a friend of hers. Then she got out again.

  “We�
�re quite early,” said grandmama.

  Julia had known all along that they would be. Grandmama had insisted upon starting much too soon.

  “Let’s wait at the barrier for mummie and Terry,” suggested Julia, who didn’t at all want to stand about with grandmama amongst all the school people.

  So they went up to the far end of the platform.

  At first it was quite fun watching the crowds but as time went on Julia began to feel very anxious. Supposing mummie was late?

  She often was late for things.

  Why, oh why hadn’t she said goodbye to Terry properly before she started?

  “I think—” said grandmama, “I’m afraid, darling, you ought to be thinking about taking your seat, in another minute or two.”

  “But Terry!” said Julia, nearly crying.

  “They may be here any minute — I expect they will be — but if they aren’t — if they have been delayed, and don’t get here in time, I’ll give him your love, shall I, and say goodbye for you?”

  Julia simply couldn’t answer.

  She was looking wildly all round her, feeling that in another minute she must see Terry’s face appear amongst all the moving people.

  “You can write to him from school,” suggested grandmama.

  She was being very kind — but of course Terry and Julia couldn’t write to each other from school. There was never time, and one never knew what to say in a letter. It was quite difficult enough having to write to one’s parents once a week.

  Then she saw Terry.

  “Here they are!” shrieked Julia, and at the same time a guard looked round and said:

  “Jump in, missie.”

  Terry was tearing along and — not mummie, but Peggy Foster — was running behind him.

  “Quick, dear,” said grandmama, and she opened the door of a carriage — not the one reserved for the school but one full of people, and with a Pekingese dog in it.

  Julia put one foot on the step but she wouldn’t get in till Terry had got to her and breathlessly kissed her. He was panting too much to speak.

  “Just done it!” cried Peggy. “Mummie’s coming on as quick as she can.”

  “Have — a nice — term,” panted Terry.