The Wrong Set and Other Stories

by Angus Wilson

  The physical effects of such consumption of food and drink became increasingly marked as the meal progressed. Stanley’s veins seemed to stand out in his temples, his neck seemed to swell and his brow to be bathed in sweat. Flo’s high make-up became confused with an artificial and purple flush. Edie’s face was suffused with a greasiness that seemed somehow to derive more from an inner piety than from the fatty liquids that clung to her faint black moustache. Laura’s corsets were giving her trouble, whilst Minnie’s flirtatious footplay with Harry was somewhat marred by an occasional hiccough. Indeed the belching and breaking of wind that soon began to visit the adults like a Mosaic plague was the occasion of much giggling and laughter at the side table. Aunt Liz awoke from her doze for one minute to a violent bout of flatulence.

  ‘Did you hear that?’ sniggered Edie’s young son, and his elder brother whispered loudly ‘I think it was an Old Tin Lizzie backfiring.’

  It was not long before Stanley was caught up in the tide of coarseness that flowed from the juvenile table. With his bonhomie and his almost simple outlook he was always a favourite with the children. ‘Keep the seat warm for me’ he called to his nephew as the latter departed for ‘where you can’t go for me’.

  ‘Oh! Pop’ shouted his daughter ‘don’t you go to the loo, or you’ll get stuck again’ and they all went into peals of laughter at the famous family joke.

  ‘I don’t think even a crane would move you this time, darling’ said his wife ‘you’ve got so broad in the beam.’

  By a coincidence Harry’s voice was heard in man of the world explanation to Minnie –

  ‘My dear girl, it’s as broad as it’s long.’ Even Edie had to join in the laugh and Stanley said with mock annoyance,

  ‘You leave my behind out of your pow-wows.’

  ‘Oh, for God’s sake’ said Harry ‘keep your filthy mind to yourself’ and Minnie smiled sophisticated agreement, but they were in the minority. The heat of the room and the working of the digestive juices had completed the dissipation of self-consciousness begun by drink and family sentiment. Childhood was being recaptured in all its crudity.

  A moment later Harry, anxious to accommodate himself to the company, attempted a hackneyed smoking room story, but this was too great a sophistication, and, indeed, in its allusion to sex almost shocked Edie back into prudish gentility. Laura it was who saved the situation, taking up a chocolate, she smiled at her sister-in-law, ‘You’d better look at your bottom, Edie, mine’s got paper stuck to it.’ Dear old Laura, she was one of the best, really, and ‘What price the Duchess?’ whispered Flo.

  Stanley picked up his glass and in a mock bow to his sister ‘Here’s to you, Laura, your face my bottom.’ ‘You wretch’ laughed his sister ‘I’d put you over my knee if I had half a chance.’

  After this sally of Stanley’s, Edie’s ‘Bottoms up’ said with a giggle sounded a little feeble, but, still, coming from Aunt Edie! …

  ‘Chase me, Charlie, chase me, Charlie, I’ve lost the leg of my drawers’ hummed Flo. This was more like it, no silly airs and fancies, just like that funny picture in the album at home ‘A rare, old rickety rackety crew.’ There was nothing like a joke to make you feel young again and no one like Stanley to provide the joke, a real comical kid, think how he dressed up in the old girl’s petticoats that night and kept them all in fits, pretending to get spooney. There he was now, though, winking and giggling at her, he’d probably want it before they got home. That was the trouble with him when he got tight, always wanting it. Why can’t they have a good time without that? But it wasn’t only the men who were the cause, whatever women said. The women were half to blame by fussing about it so. Look at Minnie, never so happy as when she was leading them on and then going all my lady and refusing them what they wanted, silly cow. It wasn’t as if there was anything to it, though she liked a bit of fun herself occasionally, and if men wanted it bad then it was nice to give it to them, like those poor kids they sent out as Tommies in the War. But when it was all over the best you got was to feel sleepy, now a good party like this and having what you wanted that was the way to live your life. That was one blessing in being married to Stanley, he knew how to make money and he knew how to spend it, not frittering it away with a lot of splash, but having the comforts you wanted and putting by for anno Domini. All the show Laura and Harry put on, and Minnie too – uncrowned Queen of Durban that English piano-player had called her and how she lapped it up. Well Stanley could buy them up any day that was one satisfaction, and heaven knows what would happen when they got old, come cap in hand to her probably, and of course she’d fork out, for when all’s said and done blood’s blood, but rather them than her. Comfort in old age and the girls well provided for, that was what Stanley and she had secured. It wouldn’t stop you dying though, like young David with those oxygen tubes, and his pinched blue face. Poor old Laura, she must have felt it, losing the only child like that. Probably wanted to ask her all sorts of questions, any mother would, but say what they liked they couldn’t blame her. After all she’d been very good to the boy, never asked to have him parked on her, wouldn’t have done if Grandpa hadn’t died suddenly like that. No one else would take him on, not even Edie for all her religion and you couldn’t ship him back in wartime, what with the Lusitania and the rest. He was a nice enough kid tho’ a bit dreamy, but she couldn’t do with sick people and when he was dying, well that put the lid on it, too damned scaring. Of course she’d seen he had the best that money could buy and the girls were in and out of his room all the time, but the kid had noticed her absence, asked for his Auntie Flo. She’d tried to stay with him at the end, but it had frightened her too much – time enough when one had to go oneself. She’d shocked herself as she sat there wishing him dead to get it over, and in the end she’d run out of the room. God knows Laura would feel bitter if she knew, but Dr Gladstone understood how she had felt, he would tell Laura that everything possible had been done. So long as those bitches didn’t gossip too much, everything would be all right, what the eye didn’t see was a very true motto. All the same she hoped to God there weren’t many like herself, neglecting you when you were dying and wishing it over. God, it frightened you to think about it, everything out of your hands and nothing to be done about it. Still that wasn’t the way to enjoy oneself. Thank God the kids had started a bit of music, that would liven things up. That elder boy of Edie’s was struck on Ursula, that would upset Edie, thought her children weren’t good enough, bad moral influence. She wouldn’t trust the girls alone with either of those boys, deep and dirty, she knew the Sunday School type. ‘And how in the hell can the old folks tell that it ain’t gonna rain no mo’?’

  So sang Flo, but Edie and her boys preferred ‘how in the heck’ and Laura who was sitting near to Edie just left a blank. Stanley was the first to go to the old Joanna, and when Edie’s boys produced their ukeleles, everything was set for a really nice sing-song. A few jolly choruses were always a help in breaking the ice, ‘Felix kept on walking’ made everyone laugh, especially when Edie’s younger boy walked up and down copying the cartoon. Stanley was, as usual, slow to sense a change of mood. ‘With his tail behind him’ he laughed winking at Edie, ‘well, I don’t know where else he’d keep it.’ But Edie was already regretting the slight looseness of their earlier talk. ‘Don’t be more of a fool than God made you, Stanley’ she snapped. Matters were not improved when Flo’s girl, Ursula, persuaded Edie’s elder boy to play for her. Ursula was certainly ‘fast’ and she could only be described as making ‘goo-goo eyes’ as she sang to her cousin ‘If you kiss a Ukelele lady, will you promise ever to be true’ and again Where the tricky wicky-wackies woo, if you like a Ukelele lady, Ukelele lady likea you.’ Laura became worried at Edie’s obvious restiveness, ‘Do sing us something Minnie’ she cried ‘all these modern things sound alike to me.’ She was to regret her impulsiveness, as a moment later Harry moved up to the piano to play ‘The Temple Bells’ for his sister-in-law. Soon Minnie’s deep contralto filled the
room, hooting somewhat with the emotion of the words ‘I am weary unto Death, Ο my rose of jasmine breath, and the month of marriages is drawing nigh.’ Even Ursula was forced to breathe ‘Oh that was lovely, Aunt Minnie. Sing some more please,’ so Minnie gave them ‘Where My Caravan has Rested’ and ‘In the Heart of a Rose’. Harry followed with his Cockney imitation of Albert Chevalier in ‘My old Dutch’, and though most of the family did not follow his words, Laura’s heart was glad at the compliment. Finally, Stanley got out his banjo and accompanied himself with a soft strumming in ‘Oh dem Golden Slippers’ and ‘White Wings they never grow weary’. His low, light voice and the deep sentiment which he lent to every word soon welded the party together in a mood of sleepy sadness.

  Father used to sing these old songs so beautifully, thought Edie, how fine he used to look with his broad shoulders and his thick beard. God grant that my boys may grow up as their grandfather, always paying their way, asking nothing of any man, afraid to look no sinner in the face and call him to repentance, but always sweet and loving to their kith and kin as Father was. He had never been narrow like the Baptists, would sing these old songs so sweetly, though there never could be anything but sacred on Sundays. She had relaxed that rule with the boys, but sometimes she wondered if these changes were wise. Of course she did not want to be a spoilsport, liked them to have their motorbikes and their sports rifles, swimming and surfing too, even dancing. There was no harm in girls and boys playing games together, indeed, there was a lot about the modern girl that she admired, more open and free, she liked the short skirts and the bobbed hair, but covering up the faces God had given them with paint and powder that was different. Pray God she did not allow her love for these boys to close her eyes to their weaknesses. Swearing or drunkenness, how often she had told them that there was nothing truly manly about these things. But they were good boys, they were her boys and Grandfather’s boys, never smoked and only a glass of wine on a party occasion like this. All the same she wished in a way she had not brought them here, there could be no good in hearing the silly boastful weakness of her brothers-in-law, and as for her sisters-in-law they were bad, frivolous women: it wasn’t the atmosphere she would have chosen for the boys. If it hadn’t been that she had wanted to please Aunt Liz … It was a thousand pities that Ursula was there, stupid little minx she would like to put her across her knee. So different from the girls that she hoped the boys would bring home one day, not yet of course, for the elder was only just twenty-one, but some day. A girl they had met out swimming or at the Chapel picnic on the Island. ‘Welcome to our home my dear’ she would say to this daughter-in-law of hers, and afterwards as they sat sewing together on the porch, for such a girl would love to help Mother with the sewing, and the linen, she would look straight at her and tell her ‘I give you a husband, my dear, free from blemish, from evil thought or deed.’ They would come together spotless, and spotless they would grow beneath a loving Mother’s eye. Yes, decidedly she would speak to that Ursula before any harm was done.

  Edie had been sitting musing so long that there was general astonishment when her voice was suddenly raised above the general conversation.

  ‘Now, my girl’ she said to Ursula ‘you leave those boys alone. There’s plenty of young fools to make sheeps’ eyes at you down in the town, but good boys are scarce and I won’t have you meddling with mine.’

  Ursula stared at her aunt for a moment, scarlet in the face, then rushed from the room, holding her handkerchief to her eyes. Edie’s elder boy moved unhappily from one foot to the other, whilst the younger one sniggered at his brother’s discomfiture.

  ‘Ursula has no need to run after anyone, I can assure you’ said Flo, ‘My God, I hope she can do better than cut some namby-pamby from his mother’s apron strings.’

  ‘Go on, go on’ said Edie in her driest tones ‘get it off your chest, woman, you’ll feel better for it. But it won’t alter the fact that my boys are not going to get mixed up with shameless girls like Ursula.’

  ‘Ursula’s a decent, straightforward girl, not a damned, creeping little toad, like your son. I heard about him making filthy suggestions to the youngest Palmer girl, and using the dirty bits in the Bible to do it.’

  ‘You’re a very silly, angry woman’ said Edie ‘who’s saying things she doesn’t understand. You had better put your own house in order before you go listening to wicked lies, neglecting the dying …’

  ‘What do you mean by that, may I ask?’ queried Flo.

  ‘Oh, don’t be so silly, Flo’ said Minnie. ‘You know very well what Edie means, we all do, except perhaps Laura, and if she doesn’t it’s high time she did.’

  The mellowing effects of the feast had worn off, leaving an irritation in every mind that was quick to flare up in anger. Already Stanley was telling Edie’s sons that they should be ashamed to let their mother boss them about in public like that, to which his nephews retorted that such a remark was rich when every one knew Aunt Flo wore the trousers. Only Laura, bewildered by the undercurrents that were rising to the surface, had remained aloof. She could not however wholly disregard Minnie’s remark.

  ‘What ought I to know?’ she asked coldly. ‘Why, that Flo neglected little David when he died, that she never went near the little fellow in his last illness’ said Minnie speaking rapidly.

  ‘It’s a lie’ shouted Flo dramatically ‘I swear it’s a lie, Laura.’

  ‘The doctor has said that Flo did everything she could’ said Laura, but she did not take Flo’s outstretched hand.

  ‘Well, of course, if you prefer to believe what strangers tell you’ said Minnie.

  ‘I choose to believe what the doctor told me, and in any case I think you’ve interfered in my affairs enough for today.’

  ‘Interfered in your affairs, what do you mean, Laura? Harry, I appeal to you, what is all this about?’

  ‘I think you’ve appealed to Harry enough too for one day’ said Laura with unconscious wit.

  ‘Poor old Harry,’ said Minnie, laying her hand on his arm. ‘So this is the sort of life she leads you.’

  ‘Look here, Laura, you know’ began Harry, but if Minnie was relying on male support for her victory, she was ignoring Laura’s marital ascendancy.

  ‘Now, Harry, that will do’ she said. ‘We don’t want to quarrel’ and her husband was silenced.

  The sense of unity was finally shattered, like Humpty Dumpty beyond repair. Nothing remained but to pack into the family Fords and Humbers, Wolseleys and Oldsmobiles and depart in mutual silence. Only Laura was left alone for a moment with Aunt Liz. ‘Thank you for a lovely party, Aunt Liz’ she said.

  The old lady came to consciousness from her gorged sleep, and by a strange chance recognized Laura for the first time that day.

  ‘So you came to see us after all, Laura, they said you would, but I wasn’t sure. People get so selfish being abroad, wrapped up in themselves. Well, you’ve aged a lot, but I don’t suppose you’re too old to learn from your family. The family doesn’t meet often enough’ she mumbled, sinking into her dozy state again ‘it does you all good, makes you think of something besides self for a bit.’

  SATURNALIA

  ‘I REALLY can’t understand it’ said Ruby Mann to her friend Enid ‘I thought things would have been humming long ago. Hi there’ she shouted to the two medicos from Barts ‘a little action from the gang please.’ ‘It isn’t a bit like the Mendel Court to be so slow. It’s more like that morgue the Ventnor’ Enid answered. Scrawny-necked and anaemic, since childhood she had been drifting from one private hotel to another – She knew.

  There was no doubt that the first hour of the staff dance had proved very sticky; servants and guests just wouldn’t mix. Chef had started the evening in the customary way by leading out Mrs Hyde-Green and the Commander had shown the young chaps the way to do it in a foxtrot with Miss Tarrant, the receptionist. But these conventional exchanges had somehow only created greater inhibitions, a class barrier of ice seemed to be forming and thoug
h a few of the more determinedly matey both of masters and men ventured from time to time into this frozen no man’s land they were soon driven back by the cold blasts of deadened conversation. A thousand comparisons were made between this year’s streamers and last year’s fairylights; every measurement possible and impossible was conjectured for the length of the lounge; it would have verged on irony to have deplored even once more the absence through illness of the head waitress who had been such a sport the year before – by nine o’clock the rift was almost complete.

  The manageress, Stella Hennessy, looked so pretty in her dove grey tulle; with her soft brown hair and her round surprised eyes, she fluttered about like some moth with a genius for pathos – ‘a little bit of a thing’ as Bruce Talfourd-Rich remarked, no one would have believed that she had a son at a public school. If she couldn’t make things go nobody could. She had such grit and determination – never having sewn even a button on and then buckling to like this when the crash came. She was so exactly the right sort of person for the Mendel Court Hotel, thoroughly up-to-date and broad-minded – One old colonel even went so far as to say that she was ‘O.Τ. Mustard’, but then one heard afterwards that she’d been forced to put the poor old thing in his place. For there was no doubt that the Mendel Court was different to most other hotels in South Kensington – it was brighter, more easy-going, less fusty, less stuffy. They hadn’t so many old tabbies and crocks with one foot in the grave. There was a poker set as well as a bridge set. Over half the residents were divorced or separated. Lots of them did interesting jobs, like being mannequins or film extras, or even helping friends to run night clubs, only showing how splendidly the right class of people could turn to when they had to. If they failed to pay their bills it was not from any ashamed indigence but because they thought they could get away with it.