“ They were all mad,” said Janet at last. “ Stark, staring mad—no wonder you ran away! ”
“ They were all suffering from psycho-neurosis,” said Nell.
“ All of them? ” asked Janet.
“ All of them,” replied Nell, nodding. “ It’s a definite disease brought on by the hurry and bustle of modern life. The struggle for existence wears out their nerves, so they worry about trifles and they can’t sleep.”
“ But they couldn’t all be suffering from that,” objected Janet.
“ Perhaps it’s infectious,” said Nell thoughtfully. “ Yes, that’s the answer, it’s an infectious disease. I’m sure it is. This morning when I was waiting in a queue to buy the rabbit I noticed that everybody looked miserable and after a bit I began to feel miserable myself.”
“ Perhaps it’s something to do with money,” suggested Janet. “ If people had more money and didn’t have to worry about the future …”
“ It isn’t that,” I said. “ Mr. Kensey had plenty of money but he was just as miserable as the others and I’m sure Madame Futrelle didn’t worry about the future—nor Beryl, either.”
“ Now, look here,” said Barbie at last. “ You’ve talked and talked. I’ve just been sitting here listening and wondering whether any of you would hit on the explanation. I can tell you why people are miserable and discontented and why they have to show off and get tight and behave like morons. It’s because they aren’t Christians.”
“ But, Barbie——” began Nell.
“ They don’t believe in God,” declared Barbie, putting her elbows on the table and fitting her chin into her cupped hands. “ They—don’t—believe—in God.”
“ But they do! ” I exclaimed. “ They go to church——”
“ Poof! ” said Barbie. “ They go to church and they say their prayers but that milk-and-watery sort of thing is no good. It wouldn’t move a feather, far less a mountain. Do you realise that if we had the right sort of faith we could move mountains? ”
“ But wasn’t that meant metaphorically? ” Nell inquired.
“ Metaphorically my foot! ” said Barbie in her downright way. “ Read it carefully and you’ll see. It was a definite serious statement of fact and I believe it’s absolutely true. If you and I and Jan and David had the right sort of faith we could go out and move Ben Nevis into the middle of Loch Lomond.”
“ You mean nobody believes? ” I asked.
“ Some people believe more than others, but nobody believes enough.”
There was a short silence. Nell took a cigarette, fitted it into a holder and lighted it; she blew a cloud of smoke through her nose.
“ You’ve got something there,” she said. “ It’s frightfully exciting when you think of it. I mean, you wouldn’t want to move a mountain, it would be a bit pointless, but there are other things …”
“ How could you make yourself believe enough? ” asked Janet.
“ I can answer that,” I told her. “ You’d have to want it enough, that’s all. You’d have to want it as much as the man who said, ‘ Lord, I believe, help Thou mine unbelief.’ ”
“ Of course! ” cried Barbie, looking at me and smiling. “ That’s the answer. You must want it desperately. Nothing else is any use.”
“ I want to want it like that,” said Janet slowly. “ That’s all I can say truthfully.”
By this time we had finished supper (a chocolate meringue had followed the ragoût and had been disposed of with appreciation in spite of the interesting talk). Nell rose to collect the plates and clear the table.
“ Let me help,” I said. “ I’m an experienced washer-up.”
“ Nonsense,” said Barbie. “ Nell and I are the washers-up to-night. You’re to sit down and have your coffee and talk to Jan. It’s all fixed. Nell and I have talked and talked—as a matter of fact we can’t help it, we’re made that way—but it’s about time you and Jan had a little peace. Do what you’re told, David,” she added, seizing a plate out of my hands. “ You’ll never be asked to Scotch Corner again if you don’t do what you’re told.”
“ We’ve got to do what Barbie says,” declared Janet, smiling at me. “ Barbie is terribly autocratic.”
I had noticed that Nell and Barbie called her Jan and I liked the little name. It seemed to suit her. I found I had begun to call her Jan, myself.
We sat down together on the sofa. From the kitchen came the clatter of plates and the humming sound of voices in earnest discussion.
“ They’re still at it,” said Jan with a little laugh. “ They’re terrific talkers—both of them. Sometimes I’m surprised they don’t talk in their sleep! But they’re darlings all the same.”
“ I like them awfully much,” I told her.
“ And they like you,” declared Jan.
“ Jan,” I said. “ You won’t have to go home, will you? ”
She hesitated and then she said in a low voice, “ Oh, David, I don’t know. I’m terribly worried. Freda seems to think I should go home, but how can I? You see Nell got me this job at Winter and Greene’s. It’s a good job and I only got it because Nell has been there for two years and recommended me to the manager, so I simply can’t let her down. Besides it takes three of us to run this flat and they got rid of another girl so that I could come. How can I possibly rush off home and leave them stranded? ”
“ You can’t, Jan.”
“ But if Elsie is really ill? ”
“ Surely she can’t be really ill. It’s fantastic.”
“ We’re twins,” said Jan slowly. “ There’s something odd about being a twin. It isn’t a matter of liking or disliking; it’s something much queerer and more difficult to understand. Either you want to be with the other one all the time—or else you don’t. Oh David, it sounds horrid, but that’s how it is. That’s how it has always been. I’ve always wanted to get away and be myself. Are you disgusted with me? ”
“ No, of course not, Jan. It’s right that you should want to lead your own life.”
“ But if she’s really ill? ”
“ I’ll write to Mother,” I said. “ Would that be any good? ”
“ Oh yes! ” she exclaimed. “ Yes, write to Mrs. Kirke. She could go and see Elsie, couldn’t she? ”
“ I’ll write and explain everything,” I said. “ Mother will know. Don’t worry about it any more.”
“ Now tell me about you,” said Jan, turning her head and looking at me. Her eyes were wide and very blue, they made me think of a pool in the Ling, reflecting the summer sky.
“ Tell you—about me? ” I asked doubtfully.
“ Do tell me, David. There’s something different about you. I’ve been noticing it all the evening. You’re—more alive. It’s the book, isn’t it? Oh, David, I wish I could tell you how much I like your book! All the time I was reading it I felt as if you were taking me with you and showing me what you saw—telling me about it. Of course I knew you weren’t.”
“ What do you mean, Jan? ”
“ You weren’t taking me,” explained Jan. “ You were taking somebody else.”
“ I believe I was taking Mother,” I said thoughtfully.
She smiled at me. “ Yes, that would explain it.”
We were silent for a few moments and then I said, “ You were asking why I seemed different; it isn’t only because I’ve written a book, it’s because I’m free.”
“ Free? ”
“ I’ve left the office. I’m going to see if I can make my living by writing.”
“ Tell me everything,” said Jan eagerly.
I had not intended to tell Jan, but she was so sweet and friendly that I could not resist the temptation. It was such a relief to pour out my hopes and my plans and to find that she understood.
“ It’s a gamble,” I said. “ But you can’t get anything worth while unless you’re willing to take a risk. Don’t tell Mother, will you? I haven’t told them yet. I’m afraid they might worry.”
“ You’l
l do it,” said Jan. “ Of course you will. There’s a sort of—a sort of successful feeling about you. But of course I won’t say a word to anybody. It’s a tremendously exciting secret.”
“ Our second secret, Jan. Do you remember the day we drank milk together in the dairy? ”
“ It’s our third secret! ”
I could not remember another secret and when I asked her what it was she only laughed.
Before I went home I invited the three girls to come to dinner at my flat. It was a little difficult to arrange an evening to suit them all—Nell, especially, seemed to have a great many engagements—but eventually we fixed a day the following week for the party.
I had a great deal to think about as I walked back to my flat; chiefly about Jan and her problem. I had realised before that she was unhappy at Nethercleugh but I understood it even better now. Barbie and Nell loved her and appreciated her and it was good for her, as well as pleasant, to be loved and appreciated. On no account must Jan go home … besides I did not want her to go home. It was delightful to have a real friend in London; somebody who knew Haines and could talk about it. I would see her again next week. I began to wonder if I could find some excuse to see her before then.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Mr. Coe had gone to do his shopping and I was looking after the shop for him when the door opened and a young man walked in; a tall fellow with dark curly hair. I gazed at him in astonishment. It was Miles Blackworth!
The little shop was dim and shadowy. Miles came in and looked round. “ Does Mr. David Kirke live here? ” he asked.
“ Miles! ” I exclaimed. “ Where on earth have you come from? ”
“ David! ” he cried. “ Great Scott, I didn’t see it was you! ”
“ How are you, old boy! ” I asked eagerly. “ What have you been doing? Where are you staying? ”
“ I’m fine,” declared Miles, smiling at me. “ I’m staying with some friends in Kensington. I got your address from your uncle and I thought it would be fun to look you up.”
“ It’s good to see you,” I told him—and so it was—I had forgiven Miles long ago for his misdemeanours. “ I’m terribly glad to see you, old boy. If you don’t mind waiting a few minutes Mr. Coe will be back and we can go and have a spot of lunch together.”
“ Is this your job? ” asked Miles in a doubtful voice. It was obvious that he did not approve of my employment.
I laughed. There was so much to tell Miles that I did not know where to begin.
“ I was in an office,” I said. “ You remember Uncle Matt got me a job in a lawyer’s office, but now——”
“ Are you still living at the boarding-house? ”
“ No fears! It was a frightful place. Sit down and I’ll tell you everything. I’ve had all sorts of adventures.”
“ I wish I’d come with you,” declared Miles. “ It was the family that prevented me; you know how interfering they are. They kept on telling me what a rattling good time I should have at the University but it didn’t work out as I expected. For instance I was practically promised a place in the University Fifteen (I thought it was settled and I was as keen as mustard) but somehow I got up against the captain and there was a lot of bother …”
Miles went on talking. He perched himself on the counter with his long legs crossed and lighted a cigarette. It was obvious that he had come to tell me his news—not to hear mine—so I settled down to a role of listener and sympathiser. My first impression had been that Miles was exactly the same as ever but after a few minutes I changed my mind about him and decided that he had lost his sparkle; this was not the splendid dashing fellow who had charmed me in bygone days …
“ You’re not listening, David! ” exclaimed Miles in annoyance.
“ Yes, I am,” I declared—I had been listening with half an ear—“ you were telling me about the rugger match. By the way, I suppose you’re a full-blown lawyer now? ”
“ Goodness no! I’ve chucked Law.”
“ You’ve chucked Law? ”
“ Yes, I’ve chucked the whole thing; it was too much grind, and so monotonous. Long dull lectures and heavy dull books! You’ve no idea what a frightful grind it was …” he told me about it at length and I listened patiently.
When he had finished I thought it was my turn. “ I’ve got a flat, Miles,” I said. “ I furnished it myself; it was good fun——”
“ I thought of taking a flat in Edinburgh,” said Miles. “ I was fed up with living at home; besides—well—there was a girl. We were engaged, you see. She’s a dear little thing, but unfortunately she hasn’t much backbone and her father came out all Victorian and asked me how I was going to support her. He was pretty nasty about it. I said we could easily wait a bit until I managed to get a job, but he made Iris break it off. People are extraordinary, aren’t they? ”
“ Well, I don’t know——” I began.
“ Of course if I’d got a job it would have been all right, and if I’d come to London with you I’d have had a job. Gosh, David, I wish I had! If I’ve wished it once I’ve wished it a hundred times … but of course it’s not too late.”
“ You mean Iris will wait? ”
“ Lord, no! That’s all off. I mean to keep clear of girls and concentrate on getting a rattling good job and making a success of life.” He laughed and added, “ D’you remember how we were going to make our fortunes? ”
“ Yes, of course I remember. How are you going to begin? ”
“ Oh, I’m looking about. I’m not in any hurry. I don’t want to rush into anything without considering it carefully. I mean it’s so important to start on the right lines. I know what I don’t want, of course. I don’t want an office job—couldn’t stick the monotony—and I don’t want too long hours. As a matter of fact I was hoping you might be able to suggest something, but …” he hesitated.
“ But you wouldn’t like this job,” I said, hiding a smile. Miles was amusing me vastly.
“ Well—no,” he agreed. “ There wouldn’t be much future in it, would there? ”
“ You want to make your fortune,” I said understandingly.
“ You’re laughing at me,” said Miles. “ I know I used to talk a lot of rot but seriously I do want a job with lots of scope. A job that will lead somewhere.”
I nodded. “ Let me see. You want a well-paid job with lots of scope and good prospects and plenty of time off.”
“ Well, what’s wrong with that? ” asked Miles defensively.
Before I could tell him what was wrong with it a customer appeared. He was one of those annoying people who, unlike Miles, have no idea what they want. He began by asking for a book about birds, with coloured illustrations, and spent a long time looking at them. Then he looked at guide-books for various districts of England and finally he bought a second-hand novel and drifted away.
“ How can you be bothered! ” exclaimed Miles. “ It would send me round the bend. What do they pay you, David? ”
I laughed.
“ Nothing,” I said.
“ Nothing? ” asked Miles in amazement.
“ No, nothing. I do it for love.”
“ All right, you needn’t tell me,” said Miles huffily. He got down from the counter and took up his hat. “ You’ve changed, David,” he added. “ I thought you’d be pleased to see me—but you’ve changed.”
“ Wait, Miles! ” I cried. “ I’m sorry I ragged you. I’ll tell you all about everything if you want to hear. The point is are you interested? ”
He paused and looked at me. “ You have changed,” he declared. “ You used to be … Oh, hell, here’s another customer! ”
But this time it was Mr. Coe with his shopping basket and when I had handed over to him I took Miles upstairs to my flat.
Now that I had more money to spend I was allowing myself a few luxuries so I was able to offer Miles a glass of sherry. He sat and smoked and sipped the wine.
“ This is dashed good stuff! ” he exclaimed in surprise.
“ Yes,” I agreed. “ If I can’t get good stuff I prefer water. You see Uncle Matt educated my palate. I’m not sure whether to be grateful to him or not. On the one hand——”
“ What are you doing? ” asked Miles. “ You needn’t tell me you’re a shop assistant, David. You couldn’t live in a comfortable flat and buy good wine on a shop assistant’s screw.”
“ No,” I agreed.
“ Well, go on,” said Miles. “ What sort of job have you got? Why the heck are you so secretive? ”
“ I’m not secretive,” I replied, smiling. “ I’ve tried to tell you several times but you wouldn’t listen. If you’re ready to listen I’ll tell you about my job. It’s a pretty good job, really. It’s well-paid and has plenty of scope and excellent prospects—and of course I’m my own master which is an advantage. I mean I can take a day off whenever I like.”
Miles gazed at me with astonishment. His face was so funny that I burst out laughing.
“ There,” I said, taking a copy of The Inward Eye out of the cupboard and handing it to him. “ That’s my job, Miles.”
He looked at it. “ D’you mean you wrote this? ” he asked incredulously. “ But how do you live, David? Do you get an allowance from your parents or what? ”
I explained the whole matter and for once Miles was not only willing but eager to hear what I had to say.
“ It’s amazing,” he said at last. “ What made you think of writing a book? How did you begin? You know, David, I’ve often thought of writing a book but I’ve never had time to get down to it—and as a matter of fact I had no idea that there was so much money in it. Of course this sort of book isn’t in my line, but I could write a thriller. You’d get even more money for a thriller because it would appeal to more people, wouldn’t it? The only trouble is, how would one live until the book was finished? ”
“ That’s the trouble,” I agreed.
“ But it wouldn’t take long,” continued Miles more hopefully. “ Perhaps the family would stump up enough cash to keep me going for a month or two. How long did it take you to write this? ”
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