Family Romance

by John Lanchester

  As for the passage about her mother reading her letters, this at least indicates that Julia’s version of her mother was not something she made up later in life. Not everyone in the family saw Molly Gunnigan as Julia did, but Julia was at least sincere in her view of her, and her fear of her mother’s nosiness and capacity for making trouble is a recurring theme. A few letters later she returned to the subject: ‘Please, I beg you keep my letters under lock and key, or better still, destroy them, if Mammy is going to visit you. I know, for a fact, that she will ferret out and read everything and the fuss she will make will do us no good.’ Whenever she heard that Peggie had been in touch with their mother, she continued the theme. ‘I had a letter from Mammy yesterday. She mentioned that you had invited her over for Whitsun and that she would love to go and might go too. PLEASE, Peggie, keep my letters out of her hands. She will only start writing to Mother General etc etc and the result will be just extra bitterness and heartbreak. I am finding all this a great strain.’

  It is obvious as soon as one opens it that there is something odd about the next letter, written less than a week after her request for a corset. The handwriting is twice its usual size, the gaps between the lines are one and a half times the normal size, and the message reverts to the pretence that all is well.

  9 January 1958

  My dearest Peggie,

  Thank you very much for your letter for Christmas with snaps enclosed. You look wonderfully well, thank God, and so happy. I was delighted to hear all your news, though indeed some of it was sad – I hope you will have better health now. You should do exactly what the doctor tells you – that is always the wisest course.

  I showed your photos to some of the Sisters – those who know you and who would be interested and not merely curious – all agree that you look lovely and all send you their love. Mother St. John will be writing to you if you haven’t already heard from her – I gave her your address.

  I haven’t heard from home since Christmas though they all wrote then. I didn’t put pen to paper to anyone except Mammy so I suppose they’ll pay me out next year and I won’t get a line!!

  I expect you have heard all the news there is. What do you and Vincent think of T. Leetch’s plans? I am interested to hear what you think should be done. I hope you’ll find time to write soon. It was such a joy to get your last letter. I am sorry this is so short – I have an awful lot to do and am racing to get this out on the evening’s post.

  I hope you will escape colds and ‘flu’ this winter and also your Vincent. With much love to you both. Don’t forget me – I always remember you.

  Your loving

  Julia xx

  That was a dummy letter. The remark about people being ‘interested and not merely curious’ is a crack directed at whoever Julia is aware might be reading it. I don’t know why she was so sure this letter was being read. But the anxiety about surveillance never left Julia. Later on she refers to the need to write a ‘code letter’, which is what this one was. As she had decided to leave the order anyway, her fears over discovery seem remarkably vivid. One is tempted to ask what she was frightened of – that they might kick her out? But that is to underestimate the effect of her previous experience of leaving the Good Shepherds twenty years before. That sense of being the centre of scandal had been the most scarring experience of her life. It was the main thing she dreaded about leaving the order, and it was why she clung to secrecy as hard as she did.

  The only person Julia completely trusted in Madras was her former tutor on the teacher training course, a Miss Forrester, who joined with Peggie in arguing that Julia should leave the convent sooner rather than later. ‘She is afraid the strain of waiting may be too much for me,’ Julia reported. Both Peggie and Miss Forrester also thought Julia should leave before she told the family her intentions. ‘I am glad you agree that I should not go home first – I rather dreaded that. As it is, I hope to be out and in London when the news reaches them. They will have to accept the “fait accompli”.’

  Julia relied on Peggie for detailed advice about how to leave the Presentation Sisters:

  What I want to know, Peggie darling, is how long did it take you to get the dispensation once you actually wrote to Rome? Did you only do that after you went to Pickering for Christmas? I know you discussed the whole thing with a priest in Denham. Would it be against your conscience to tell me what you said to him? I think you told me at the time, or someone did, that a priest wrote to Mother General saying you should be let go. I wish I could get a priest to do that for me. Because I am longer in than you are, it may be harder for me than it was for you. Anything you can tell me I will be grateful for.

  I thought of saying: (1) I have wanted to go several times but allowed myself to be talked into staying in religion (which is true and they know it) on account of the position at home (2) now my father is dead, and the family settled I have decided to go as I find I cannot bear the burden of the religious life especially common life and obedience (3) the strain is so great that my health will not stand much more worry and tension (this is true) (4) I have waited this long in order to pay back in work whatever expenses were incurred in my education, passage to and from India, etc. Is that enough, Peggie? Write and tell me what you think, either to me, direct, or to the address given on the first page, but, I beg you, write soon. That is all for now. I hope you and Vincent are well. How I wish the next year or 18 months were over. Then I will laugh again.

  I’m not sure that her father’s death and the family being ‘settled’ – which I think means that the girls had all left home, one way or another – actually had much bearing on Julia’s decision to leave the convent. I think it had more to do with the depth of her misery, and the fact that her sisters had left their orders, and neither of them had died of shame. She was miserable; it was doable; and if she left now there was a chance, albeit a small one, that she could plausibly think about having a family of her own. The late thirties is a common age for nuns to leave religious orders, and that is the primary reason.

  As she began to imagine the process of leaving in detail, Julia began to think of herself differently. She grew aware of the fact that instead of being primarily a nun, she would from now on primarily be a woman. She would have to think of herself, and project herself, in a new way. I don’t think Julia was ever completely indifferent to her appearance, but it was, obviously, another matter when she was the only person who ever saw her out of her habit. One of the most moving and entertaining aspects of the convent letters is Julia’s seeing herself as a woman for the first time in a decade and a half.

  You said you would love to know how I am looking. Well, as you saw by photographs last year I put on a lot of weight, far too much, with the result that I had a bad spell of boils and

  high blood pressure – not too good at my age which is not yet the high b.p. age, believe me. [She was thirty-seven the previous month.] Well, I was advised by doctors to cut down to as near eliminated point as possible both starches and sugars. This I have done and the result is that in the last 6 months I have lost roughly 36 pounds and am still losing – but I needed to and I feel and look better. Judging from photographs I have seen of Noreen and Mary, I think I can safely say I look younger than either. I am generally taken to be in my twenties so that my being Principal of a College causes no little surprise. My skin continues to be as it used to be but of course my colour is not good. In fact one of my nicknames is ‘the most beautiful nun in India – who has got all the brains too’!!! But really it is vanity to repeat that and when I get into ordinary clothes a lot of the age-hiding drapery will go and I suppose wrinkles will appear from nowhere – I haven’t any now, but they will come I’m sure! You won’t be forced to introduce me to your friends as your grand-aunt, though!

  Nuns were not supposed to pay attention to their own bodies, so these acts of self-assessment and measurement were in themselves no small act of rebellion. And then there was the always pressing issue of clothes, as reflected in the
next letter, a classic example of my mother at her best and her worst. It also shows that, although Julia felt confident, now that she was principal, that her own letters would go unread, she was still worried about the possibility that Peggie’s letters might be intercepted.

  18 March 1958

  My dearest Peggie,

  Your letter was very consoling, Peggie, I am very grateful indeed for all the interest you are taking. At present I cannot make any definite plans, but I may be in a position to get things moving in May. The latest news we have here is that Mother General is coming to India ‘soon’. In my opinion ‘soon’ means next October or November when the weather is somewhat cool. She will never expose herself to India as it will be for the next 7 months. However if she comes I will tell her, and failing that I will write.

  As regards the clothes I will get there: I have already been advised not to have warm clothes – like a coat or suit – made here as they are never done properly. They tell me to stick to blouses and cotton dresses and maybe a few heavier dresses of some kind of woollen materials as even skirts – I mean warm ones – are a risk as they are made so badly – I will have to get some money and buy them as soon as I arrive there. A woman whom I have confided in, and who has been to England and back several times, said that rather than have warm clothes made here (I mean coats etc) she would willingly wrap herself in a blanket and buy there! But I will try to have some decent cotton dresses and maybe handloom skirts and blouses and a knitted jumper and cardigan. Should I get pyjamas or nightdresses made? I mean I would like to have got as many of these things as possible, underwear too, in order not to be a burden – they won’t be over generous with the cash I am sure when I am going and I will need what they give me to get warm things.

  I was glad to hear your news that you may be expecting a baby. Now, like a good girl, look after yourself and don’t worry about me – because worry is very hard at a time like this, and please let me know if it is definite. Wouldn’t it be grand if I was there to look after you!

  Now, to answer your questions: my skin is dry (sun of India, you know). I believe that Pond’s have a cream called ‘Dry Skinfood with Lanolin’ which would be good for it – unfortunately it cannot be got here now and there is a complete ban on imports so if you could send me a little of that, Peggie, it might boost up my morale a little. My eyebrows could certainly do with a little tidying up and I do have a few whiskers on my upper lip. I think it is very kind of you to think of all this. If you do send lipstick etc c/o Miss Oliver I shall be very grateful. I would like, too, a few pieces of either Knight’s Castile or Gibbs Superfatted Soap. I always feel that a good toilet soap is very important for the skin and I haven’t had one lately. Pack everything in one box – Miss Forrester will bring them. I do worry about my appearance but I worry more about getting a job and earning my living! My general health is not too bad. I have lost 3 stone since July but I was overweight and am the better for it. I am very tired though and inclined to tears. I tried to take Vitamins last year but they seemed to make the boils worse. Maybe if you sent some English preparation (in pill form, as you say) it might agree with me. Before I finish – please don’t use the address of Mrs Balakrishnan again – they are leaving Madras and the house will be empty. I will give you another address as soon as I can. In the meantime you might write by Miss Forrester. If she is in Madras when she returns to India, I may ask you to send the letters to her, but if so it wouldn’t be for long. I’ll be writing again in a day or two. I wonder what happened to your last letter? Thanks once again, my dearest, for everything. I hope this will reach you in time to get in touch with Miss Forrester. God’s love and bless you and Vincent.

  Your loving sister

  Julia

  It was lucky that Peggie understood the degree of worry and self-absorption involved in leaving the convent, since anyone else might legitimately have minded the world-altering news about her pregnancy being fitted in between concerns with clothes and skin cream. Julia was well aware of how much she was asking of her sister. ‘Are you sick and tired of me, Peggie? I am, of myself, at any rate.’ But she had no choice, since she had no one else to turn to. And Peggie more than anyone else could identify with that. She was the only person in a position to help Julia, and so she helped her, not least by renting a room for her in the downstairs flat, so that Julia would have somewhere to live when she came to London.‡

  By now it was clear that Julia had irrevocably decided to leave and go to London. All that was left was to breathe deeply, summon her reserves of courage, and actually set the process in motion.

  28 June 1958

  My dearest Peggie,

  I delayed writing to you until today so that I would have some definite news for you – well, I have just been down at the Post Office to send, by Registered Mail (air mail of course) the letter to Mother General with the formal application to the Congregation of Religious enclosed. I can tell you it took me some time to get these two epistles written, but it is a relief now to have them off my hands. I hope everything will go well, but in a way I suppose that whatever happens cannot be much worse than the suspense of waiting for it!

  I have posted to you today by registered parcel my old woollen dressing-gown; old as it is, it is still in good condition and very warm and I am sure I will be glad of it next winter. It is looking rather bedraggled as I left it out in the sun in Madras to air a few years ago, and it got faded in parts. So when it reaches you will you please like a dear have it dyed navy blue for me – I shall be very grateful if you have this done before I get home as I am afraid seeing it again as it is now would be a constant reminder of things I would rather forget! Incidentally, I meant to take my name off it but I forgot – will you do that, too, like an angel. There are whitish acid stains on the sleeve which won’t dye properly – but that doesn’t matter. The parcel should reach you by the end of August, I imagine; maybe I’ll be there just as soon myself, but I don’t think that is very likely – it is up to M. General now and I imagine she will want me to stay until the end of November – more so as she is supposed to be coming out in October.

  I return to Madras tomorrow so by the time this reaches you, I will be back in Church Park and hard at work – which will help the months to go quickly.

  Are you keeping well, Peggy dearest? I hope you are seeing the doctor regularly and following his instructions carefully. Have you thought of names yet? Mum seemed to enjoy her visit to London. It is just as well that you didn’t say anything to her. Have you ever heard anything further from P. Marshall? Is there any chance at all of my getting that parcel out of her? Please let me know about this when you write. Would you like me to try to bring my sheets and towels with me? They are in quite good condition and might be a help to you. I can bring one rug across my arms – have you got blankets? I’ll bring a hot water bottle too. I am a cold creature you know. Is the flat heated or do you have a fire?

  Much love to Vincent and your dear self and do please write soon. I am dreading M. General’s letter.

  Love again

  Julia

  My mother’s bossiness here is, I think, outrageous. Peggie was living in a tiny flat, pregnant, with a husband in full-time education; she had already arranged a room for Julia, and was all-round indispensable to her future plans – and her reward was to be asked to dye a dressing-gown because it wasn’t a sufficiently consistent blue. Here, as elsewhere, I want to say: Mum, give her a break. But I can’t pretend that the peremptoriness and self-absorption were not in character; in particular, they were a characteristic reaction to the stress she was under as she waited for a response from the Mother General. The month between that letter and the next was perhaps the longest of Julia’s life.

  25 July 1958

  as from c/o Miss Forrester

  School for the Deaf

  Mylapore, Madras-4

  My dearest Peggie,

  I wrote to you just before I left Kodai telling you that I had written to Mother General and I promised I w
ould let you know as soon as I heard from her. Well, I thought her reply would NEVER come and I didn’t know what to think or do. Anyhow, when I got in from supervising teaching practice yesterday evening, I found her letter in my place in the chapel! Knowing of old that M. General writes with a barbed pen dipped in acid ink, I decided that before reading what she had to say, I would have a night’s sleep – which I had!! And I read the letter this morning. It was very brief – just two pages of a sixpenny air letter. She said she had received my letter and my formal application to the Sacred Congregation of Religious and before forwarding it to Rome she had to consult her Council (and that means that my decision is known in Madras as one of her Council lives here). From the tone of my letter to her and to Rome, they are all agreed that my decision is final and that I am not open to persuasion and so she has sent my letter to Rome – it went on the 22nd July. ‘When and how you leave I will inform you by letter,’ she says, ‘when I get the decision of Rome on your application.’ I was hoping she would realise that trying to talk me round was a waste of time, and, thank God, she has seen that. So now, Peggie, I am much nearer to getting things fixed. I don’t know how things will go, but it is quite possible that I may be with you in September. Of course, I may still have to wait until the year’s out. But if I am free to go in September – I mean if the dispensation has come, it will suit me O.K. as the students will have finished their practical exams and I will have got them through their theory syllabus and all they will need will be revision classes until November and it won’t be too difficult to get someone to take that much.