James, Fabulous Feline

by Harriet Hahn

  James had slipped out the door and was lying on the stairs flicking his tail from side to side. I pretended to aim a mallet. Then he waved his tail back and forth with a great flourish. I pretended to swing a mighty swing and James himself raced upstairs.

  “He was a great asset,” I said.

  “That’s nice,” said Mrs. March, and followed James.

  The following week was short as we were to go to Haverstock Hall Thursday evening to get ready for the tournament, which would start on Friday. We went to Harrods on Monday and purchased a mallet and two croquet balls. I made a wicket out of cardboard. Thereafter I was able to practice on the rug with James’s coaching. He also practiced leaning against the ball to move it slightly but that proved ineffective, so he practiced flinging his whole body at it after a brief run and that method moved the ball quite well.

  Peter Hightower came by Monday night and we discussed strategy. James came to understand that not only do you try to get your ball through all the wickets in sequence, but you actively try to prevent your opponent from doing the same by knocking him away from his intended wicket. James also became gradually familiar with the complicated system of “turns.” One extra turn for going through a wicket, two extra turns for hitting another ball unless you had hit it before and had not gone through a wicket, all accumulated turns wiped out when going through a wicket except the one for going through a wicket, etc. As Peter and I discussed these, James shook his head as though bothered by a swarm of gnats.

  “Don’t worry about all this,” said Peter, taking pity on James’s confusion. “I understand it and so do the referees. Your job is to keep our aims accurate and our speeds appropriate, and my job will be to figure out the best use of our shots.”

  James nodded his relief and retired to the windowsill where he loves to watch what is happening on Ryder Street, if nothing more exciting is at hand.

  James did have something more on his mind, though, and Tuesday he insisted we go out. He refused to travel in the bag. He was leading this expedition. I followed along as he led me to a street market. Once at the market he demanded to be carried so he could see the tables, and finally he found what he wanted. A table selling large plastic initial pins. James indicated a J pin in a deep shade of royal purple. I asked how many he wanted, because I wasn’t sure what he had in mind. He nodded his head five times so I bought five pins. We were not through. Close by was a table selling white baseball caps. James was delighted. He jumped up and down in my arms. I tried one on. It fit. I bought four. The salesman directed me to a stall not far away where I found a doll’s white hat for James. We took our purchases back to the flat and I pinned the Js on the caps. James had gotten us our team identity.

  Lord Henry and Helena dropped in Wednesday for a chat, as Helena had been in London to see her doctor. Lord Henry now knew how the tournament was to be arranged. There were to be three classes. Singles, doubles and team of four. Friday the first round of singles would start at nine A.M. and the first round of doubles would take place in the afternoon.

  Saturday would see the first round of team of four and the second round of singles. Then lunch, the second round of doubles and the second round of team of four. Sunday would be a really hectic day. There would be three semifinal rounds in the morning and three final rounds in the afternoon. Sunday evening all sixteen teams, the referees and marshals, and the families of the participants would all assemble for the awards banquet and celebration.

  Helena was delighted with our hats. She took James’s hat with her. “I’ll attach some strings so you can keep it on,” she said.

  “Can you be ready at the usual time tomorrow, say about four o’clock?” asked Lord Henry as he and Helena were leaving. “Weatherby will come by and pick you up as he did last week.”

  “Fine,” I said, and James nodded excitedly.

  After they had gone, we practiced awhile on the rug and then we went into the kitchen to see what the larder had for us to eat for dinner. It was raining as usual and we didn’t want to go out, so we settled for a smoked salmon sandwich and a bottle of stout shared between us.

  I noticed that James was practicing a winner’s stride as he left that night and walked upstairs even before Mrs. Marsh came to call.

  We drove with Weatherby Thursday afternoon as arranged and on Friday morning, in the sun, with very little breeze, we drove off early for Castle Falling and the tournament.

  Castle Falling is one of the oldest castles in England. It was originally a fortified stronghold and sits on a rise that commands the country around it. The eleventh-century stone castle sits in the center of an oval earthworks. On two sides of the castle the oval opens to provide a flat green large enough to hold two croquet courts. The whole oval is bounded by a steep-sided earth barrier, now covered in grass, that provides seating for the spectators at the tournament. Outside the earthworks is a moat, still full of water and now inhabited by ducks and swans. A bridge crosses the moat and a road leads to the entrance to the castle. Originally a drawbridge, at the present time it is a permanent footbridge. The castle itself is not habitable, but it is one of the more romantic ruins in the area and it is a very popular site for tourists in the summer. The viscount and viscountess live in a charming residence that dates from about 1675 and is always referred to as the “new house.” It is a mile or so away from the castle. As we left the main road and wound gently higher toward the castle, which we could see from some distance away, we passed through meadows where sheep graze at some times and cars park at others. On this particular Friday the cars, even that early in the morning, outnumbered the sheep.

  Weatherby let us out at the bridge and disappeared with the wagon. A yellow and white striped tent took up a large part of the space to our left. In it were food concessions and stalls where pennants of various colors were sold. We crossed the drawbridge and found another tent labelled PARTICIPATING TEAMS HERE. This tent filled all one side of the road leading to the castle. On the other side a barrier had been erected with a small gate for a ticket taker, who was doing a brisk business.

  We registered in the participating teams tent, were given a program and directed to a set of bleachers set up against one wall of the castle. These bleachers, one on each side, were reserved for the contestants and had a splendid view of both courts, the spectators sitting on the earthworks; beyond were the fields and downs and the glorious blue sky without a trace of cloud. I noticed that pets were welcome. Some people had brought dogs and others cats so James was able to sit on the bleachers with us.

  We looked around. We all put on our hats. Helena had sewn some strings on James’s hat and she tied it on at a fetching angle. Opening her program and nodding at James, she explained to me, “This is how it works. The teams are all listed in the program and each team has both a number and a color. We are pale green, and our number is 12. Each of us has a number. I am 12–1, Henry is 12–2, Peter is 12–3 and you are 12–4. At one end of each court you will see a flagpole. The pennant flying on the pole is the color and shows the number of the person or persons to play there. Between the two courts you will see three tall poles, now empty. On those poles will go the pennants of the winners of singles on the first, doubles on the middle, and on the last, team of four.”

  James brushed gnats away and I was not sure whether they were real gnats or just a sign of confusion.

  “Don’t worry, James,” said Helena, “you will see it clearly as the day goes on. Let’s see who we know.”

  We looked over at the competitors’ bleachers. Many of the teams were in elaborate costume. There was Fiona Wettin with the viscountess, the Honorable Lucy Poole and Etheria, the duchess of Inverness. They were dressed in doublets and hose with gold crests emblazoned on their doublets. The only member of the team for which the uniform was unfortunate was Etheria, who has very heavy legs. A cousin of the queen had come with a team of her own dressed in tabards with the lion and the unicorn painted on them. Some teams had no special clothing. Our caps were exactl
y right—not too elaborate, but still indicating we had made a team effort. Since many of the teams knew one another there was much waving and gesturing.

  My number was called for singles play early in the morning, and at that time I discovered that only the players and, on occasion, a referee were permitted on the court. However, James could sit on the sidelines and I discovered that he could offer considerable help by signalling with his tail. With his help I successfully defeated a young man in full evening dress wearing a large button that identified THE BUTLERS. Each court had a referee, who retrieved balls hit out of bounds and resolved any disputes during the play.

  At the end of the game, my green pennant went up on the singles pole and at the end of the morning, when the first round of singles had been completed on all four courts, all of our green pennants were flying on the winners’ pole. We noted that all four orange pennants belonging to the viscountess and her team were also flying on the winners’ pole.

  There was a break for lunch and we gathered at one end of the stand where a Haverstock footman arrived with a picnic hamper, the contents of which we devoured. We were all very hungry. Lunch over, Helena stretched out and napped while James and I decided to explore the castle. We wandered through the great hall whose ceiling was partly gone, through various rooms toward the back and at last came to the gift shop where dish towels with the castle on them, postcards, souvenirs and plants were available. The shop was in an enclosed room with a small stove. This coal stove was often used on cold June days. Just outside was a coal pile. James sniffed it, discovered the black coal dust, sneezed and stalked away.

  We returned to the stand and prepared for the doubles competition. Lord Henry and Helena played as a team on court one, and Peter and I played on the other side of the castle on court four. James raced frantically back and forth trying to support all his dear friends.

  Peter and I won our game easily as Peter drew the last position, which in croquet is a great advantage. He finished in a flourish, passing up all the rest of the players, and became a rover, which meant he could interfere with the opposition and assist me by putting himself in my way so I could hit him and earn two more turns. Peter is a master of the strategy of the game. He was occasionally distracted as James did not understand the concept of a rover and sat on the sidelines howling in anger as Peter roved the court. On court four Helena and Lord Henry won handily, so a happy team returned that night to Haverstock Hall. On the way home Peter explained the function of a rover to James, who eventually gave us his I-knew-it-all-the-time look and went to sleep on Helena’s lap.

  Saturday dawned clear and warm. Insects exulted and the players trooped to the second day, which opened with the first round of team-of-four play. James was beside himself and finally retired under the stands and covered his head with his hands. In fact, there were constant calls to the referee to settle disputes. Balls crashed into each other and at last, when the round was over, sixteen teams had been reduced to eight. Hanging on the winner’s pole were our four pennants, those of the viscountess, Etheria, Fiona and the Honorable Lucy. Fiona’s deadly aim and Etheria’s ability to intimidate the other team had brought them through. Also on the pole were the flags of the Butlers and the Royals, as the team fielded by the queen’s cousin was known, as well as four more.

  After a fifteen-minute interval the second round of singles was called. I won from Peter, who was delighted to lose. He was ready to sit awhile. Lord Henry played his sister Etheria in an emotional match fought bitterly to the last stroke and won by Lord Henry.

  He held out his hand and said, “Good game, Etheria.” She stalked away.

  In our team, Helena, Lord Henry and I moved up a round.

  There was considerable time when I was not playing, and James, once satisfied that Helena had won her match, was bored, so he went exploring the battlements of Castle Falling. James had climbed to the top of a wall and was lying on the stones sunning himself and looking out over the countryside, when out of the sky plummeted an osprey right at James who, taken completely by surprise, rolled off the battlement. I tried to run for him, but there were weeds and stones in the way. I was afraid James might be hurt, but I need not have been concerned. Someone else, an attractive young man with soft, brown hair and darting brown eyes, had caught James as he fell.

  “Thanks for saving James,” I said as I caught up with the two of them.

  The young man, who was dressed in the full-dress clothes of the Butlers, set James gently on the ground. James shook himself and stretched to see nothing was out of place. Then he assumed his elder statesman expression to recover his dignity.

  We introduced ourselves. James formally extended a paw. The young man’s name was Roger Ham. He did something in the City and had been wiped out of the singles competition by Fiona.

  When I told him I was a researcher in the arts he suddenly smiled, and his face, which had seemed almost morose in repose, changed completely, came alive with pleasure. “You wouldn’t know what has happened to a splendid painter named Helena Haakon, would you?” he asked eagerly. “I haven’t seen her work displayed in any galleries recently.”

  James grinned his I-know-something-you-don’t grin and, patting Roger on the leg to indicate he was to follow, headed off to the stands where he knew he’d find Helena resting. For a moment Roger was confused.

  “Follow James,” I said. “He will lead you where you want to go.”

  “Okay,” said Roger, and off they went. I followed a little behind and watched as James presented Roger to Helena. I could see Roger introduce himself and sit down beside Helena, and they were shortly in animated conversation. I noted that Roger’s eyes were glazed with adoration.

  James sat to one side and smirked, but I knew he would not be content to sit for long. Discussions of art bore him.

  I need not have worried. Round two of the doubles competition was called at that moment and a young woman member of the Butlers team introduced as Jane Jensen came to collect Roger, who was her partner. At the end of the round Helena and Lord Henry, Peter and I, Roger and Jane, and Etheria and Fiona survived. The only other noteworthy event of the afternoon was the substitution brought in for the Honorable Lucy Poole, who had sprained her ankle while climbing on the castle. The new member of the team was an attractive young woman named Ellen Bruce.

  With the doubles finished for the day, the next round of team of four was played, and at its end the Butlers beat us despite the fact that Roger seemed helpless whenever he looked at Helena. Jane was a steely competitor and she and Peter waged a war of the rovers that brought applause from the spectators. The Butlers moved up to play Etheria’s team in the semifinals Sunday.

  The day’s play was over. We walked through the crowd to the drawbridge to look for Weatherby and found Roger and Jane walking beside us.

  “Where are you staying?” asked Helena.

  “Jane and I are doing bed-and-breakfast in the village of Haverstock,” said Roger. “The others on our team are staying with a local relative. I’ve got my car here,” he added.

  “Come by Haverstock Hall as soon as you can for tea or drinks or whatever you’d like and I’ll show you my latest paintings, if you’d really like to see them,” said Helena.

  “Like to? I’d be thrilled,” said Roger.

  They came shortly after we arrived at the Hall. Roger and Helena retired to her studio. Jane has shiny, straight black hair cut in a severe bob with bangs, which is very becoming to her slightly angular face and thin well-coordinated body. She is a highly organized and intelligent girl with an intense interest in many things. She runs her own public relations firm and she and Peter talked at length about the image problems at Thwaites. James was not greatly interested and spent the time trying to control a golf ball on the carpet.

  Eventually, Helena and Roger returned, and he and Jane went off to join their teammates for dinner. We went in to dinner ourselves and then turned in early.

  James and I stood at the window of our room and lo
oked out at the half-moon hanging in the sky.

  “Do you approve of Roger?” I asked. I like to know how James feels about new people. Sometimes, if he disapproves of someone, he can be difficult.

  He nodded his head enthusiastically. Happily we agreed, as I liked Roger myself.

  “What about Jane?” I asked.

  James purred. He nodded, jumped off the windowsill where he had been sitting and pounced on the bed. I joined him, and we were soon asleep.

  The weather held. Sunday was as sunny and warm as the previous two days. A few tiny white clouds lent interest to the sky. We were off for the final day and a certain change had come over James. While we were out of the team of four, Lord Henry and Helena were still alive in the doubles competition and Lord Henry and Helena were both alive in the singles tournament. James was getting interested. There was a chance we might win at least one and maybe two events. He ceased to roam the ruin looking for rodents and settled down on the sidelines to concentrate on the games.

  The opening event was the team-of-four third round, where we rooted for the Butlers who were playing Etheria’s team. James did his best to distract the new member of the team, Ellen Bruce, who did look marvelous in doublet and hose, but she did not lose her concentration. Also, Roger had lost all interest and kept waving at Helena, so the Butlers lost, but not ignominiously. On another court, the Royals beat a team composed of Victorian ladies in bustles. In team of four the Royals would play Etheria’s team in the finals.

  The third round of doubles pitted Helena and Lord Henry against Roger and Jane, and it was a match filled with errors. James prowled the sidelines trying to signal either Lord Henry or Helena, but it was hopeless. Roger was so polite to Helena she felt she had to reciprocate. Lord Henry, who was overly protective of the mother-to-be anyway, was distracted, so Jane, moving directly to her goal, won the match for her team. Elsewhere, one pair of Royals was beaten by the other pair of Butlers, and Etheria and Fiona were, to everyone’s surprise, beaten soundly by a pair of Victorian ladies who laughed over every shot and so annoyed Etheria that she blew up.