Cards of Identity

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Cards of Identity Page 6

by Nigel Dennis


  ‘What about their names, sir?’

  ‘Towzer may as well keep his, both as an adjunct to his beard and a foil to his inoffensiveness. So she, of course, will become Miss Tray – Miss Blanche Tray.’

  ‘You don’t think that old memories of class differences will keep them apart?’

  ‘If there is one good thing to be said of the medical profession it is that their promiscuousness makes class-distinction impossible. Left to themselves, they would breed a classless world in one generation.’

  ‘Then I shall try and bring both Tray and Towzer,’ said Beaufort, rising enthusiastically.

  ‘Don’t overdo yourself, darling,’ said Mrs Mallet.

  ‘No fear of that … I say, who is that murky, lurking, furtive figure lounging about in the park? This is the second time I’ve seen him.’

  ‘Ask him peremptorily what he wants,’ said the captain.

  Beaufort threw open the window, stepped on to the terrace and shouted in a bull-like voice: ‘What are you doing here! Don’t you know you’re trespassing?’

  A sheepish cry came back.

  ‘Something about looking for his uncle,’ said Beaufort.

  ‘Tell him his uncle won’t be back until the day after tomorrow,’ said the captain. ‘Suggest he come back then. After all, we may want him.’

  Beaufort obeyed. ‘I wonder if he’s a Paradise relation,’ he said, stepping in again and closing the window.

  ‘Time will tell. Off you go, now.’

  ‘I see you are feeling more relaxed,’ said Mrs Mallet, when Beaufort had gone.

  ‘Well, it is a strain isn’t it, that first day or two – assailed by doubts, hating the responsibility? It was I who proposed having the Summer Session in the country; I who assured the Club that a place could be staffed and set in order. But I stand by what I said then: that this will be a broadening experience for all of us. Why, do you know that Orfe and Shubunkin have not once been outside London since childhood? Even the President admits that it is forty years since he saw a hedge. Oh, I am glad to be busy again! And glad to see you and young Beaufort so happy together. It makes me regret my own single state. I have not really been the same man, you know, since they deported poor Becky.’

  ‘To the outsider, if you have changed at all, it is for the better. I mean that your best faculties are better than I have ever known them.’

  ‘Thank you for saying so, dear. It’s true, of course, that life with Becky was a terrible strain, and I will even confess that when I watched her being walked away by two policemen, though I could hardly see for tears, I did feel relieved. But what an old-fashioned man I am, at heart! No sooner do I get the peace I’ve always prayed for than I begin to feel ashamed of it. Celibacy makes one so neat and tidy and prim, a sort of hermaphrodite; all that saves me from hating myself is the thought that the work I am doing will be enjoyed by others – that I do it not for myself alone but for the Club.’

  ‘Someone is knocking on the window,’ said Mrs Mallet.

  The captain went to the terrace door and threw it open. ‘Who are you, may I ask?’ he said.

  ‘Paradise, my name, sir.’

  ‘Indeed! Are you in search of something?’

  ‘Thought you might have seen my uncle – and aunt.’

  ‘And why, pray,’ asked Mrs Mallet in a high, aristocratic voice, ‘should my husband have seen your uncle – and your aunt?’

  ‘You had better come in, anyway,’ said the captain. ‘And stop shuffling like that.’

  ‘I always do that,’ said Lolly, breaking into a broad smile and looking at the captain with admiring surprise, as if astonished that so personal a trait could be detected.

  ‘Well, sit down and keep still,’ said the captain. ‘When did you last see your uncle?’

  ‘Just the other day. I mean: it wasn’t him I saw; but I saw Auntie and she told me.’

  ‘Just what did Auntie tell you?’ cried Mrs Mallet coldly. ‘Surely not that as a result of seeing her you had seen him?’

  ‘You misunderstand, dear,’ said the captain. ‘Mr Paradise means that as a consequence of seeing his aunt he was able to envisage his uncle.’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Lolly.

  ‘It is Greek to me,’ said Mrs Mallet, taking up some sewing and looking coldly away. ‘Unless uncle and aunt so closely resemble one another that even their nephew cannot distinguish between them.’

  ‘Well, if they’re not here, I’d better be off,’ said Lolly, beginning to shuffle again.

  ‘If you have no objection, dear,’ said the captain timidly, ‘I will try and help the young man by asking one or two questions.’

  Mrs Mallet gave a high laugh, and started to sew.

  ‘Do your uncle and aunt normally reside near these premises?’ asked the captain.

  ‘Down at the lodge,’ said Lolly.

  ‘Our lodge?’

  ‘Why, yes, that’s right,’ said Lolly. ‘But they’re away, or something. Milk bottles left outside.’

  ‘On which we have paid a heavy subsidy,’ said Mrs Mallet.

  ‘You know them, do you?’ asked Lolly hopefully.

  ‘They sound like the couple we evicted,’ said the captain. ‘I suppose, in their panic, they forgot to stop the milk.’

  ‘Evicted?’ repeated Lolly with faint surprise.

  ‘Well, what else could we do with them?’

  ‘I didn’t …’ Lolly began, and then stopped.

  ‘Finish the sentence, finish it!’ cried Mrs Mallet sharply.

  ‘I just mean,’ said Lolly nervously, ‘I didn’t know anyone had the right to do that.’

  ‘Good heavens! What an extraordinary idea!’ said the captain, laughing. ‘Who would prevent us?’

  Lolly looked vague and dismal. At last, he said: ‘Then they’ve gone, eh?’

  ‘Unless, in the shape of identical twins, they are haunting the park in spirit form,’ said Mrs Mallet.

  ‘Were you greatly attached to them?’ asked the captain. ‘Because if you were, I could probably find their new address. You see, my agent handles all such affairs – dismissals, evictions, claims, lawsuits. I never see the actual people, because they tell such distressing stories, and I don’t want them on my conscience. I have to do it that way, otherwise nothing would ever get done. In fact, as far as I’m concerned, personally, your uncle and aunt just don’t exist.’

  ‘They always stayed quiet,’ Lolly admitted.

  ‘Well, anyway, I expect you have other relations to step into their shoes.’

  ‘No, sir, they’re my only ones.’

  ‘Why not ask the police?’ said Mrs Mallet in a nasty voice.

  Lolly looked shocked and began to shuffle. ‘I don’t ask them things,’ he explained.

  ‘And, pray, why not?’ cried Mrs Mallet. ‘Is your character not above suspicion? Does some vein of petty crime run though your family? How are you employed, may I ask?’

  ‘Well, I’d better be going,’ replied Lolly, edging towards the terrace.

  ‘Come again, in a few days, if you like,’ said the captain, opening the terrace door. ‘We might have news for you.’

  ‘Oh, that’s all right.’

  ‘May I add?’ cried Mrs Mallet, ‘that if your uncle and aunt had wished you to know their new address they would have taken care to supply you with it?’

  ‘That’s right,’ said Lolly agreeably, ‘so I’ll say good morning.’

  ‘You are too gracious,’ said Mrs Mallet, with another high laugh.

  Lolly ambled down the drive. ‘An odd fish,’ said the captain. ‘I must say he took me by surprise, or I would have kept him. But what could we use him for? I don’t want to tackle anything too complicated at this stage. Well, we’ll see, next time he comes.’

  ‘You think he’ll come again?’

  ‘Don’t you? He came this time out of curiosity and because a visit might be to his advantage. But at some moment in the next few days it is going to dawn on him suddenly that he really has lost som
ething. A draught will play on his life. He will even get worried, feel unsettled. Like me, when Becky went.’

  ‘Poor dear! You have Becky on your mind today.’

  ‘Well, as I say, she left me in peace.’

  There was a knock on the door and Jellicoe entered. ‘There is a suspicious character in the park, sir,’ he said.

  ‘Do you suggest we loose the dogs, Jellicoe?’ asked Mrs Mallet, giving Jellicoe a warm smile to show that she was not being unkindly sarcastic.

  ‘We have already ordered him off, Jellicoe,’ said the captain. ‘But you were quite right to be alarmed.’

  ‘Jellicoe looks tired,’ said Mrs Mallet. ‘I think you are working too hard, Jellicoe.’

  ‘It’s moving the furniture, madam. Some of it is very heavy. British Railways has just brought a fresh lot.’

  ‘You mustn’t try and rush it, Jellicoe. Do it slowly, piece by piece, and you will not feel the strain so much.’

  ‘Yes, madam. I’ve prepared a bit of luncheon. Rather a scrap one, I must say.’

  ‘Well, you will be glad to hear, Jellicoe,’ said the captain, ‘that Florence will shortly be with you again. So that will take the cooking off your hands. I hope there will soon be a maid-of-all-work too. And a gardener and an assistant. That will mean a staff of five. Then you will have no complaints.’

  ‘I’m not complaining, sir, I hope I never complain.’

  ‘No, I don’t think you do. Still, we must watch your health. We don’t want you to break down. Is the dining-room ready yet?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, sir. It’s getting the big carpet up the stairs that’s holding me back. It’s fifty feet long, sir. But I’ve managed the under-felt.’

  ‘Well, that’s the easy part, isn’t it? Couldn’t you rig up some sort of pulley?’

  ‘Or a slide of some kind, Jellicoe?’ suggested Mrs Mallet.

  ‘I could try a slide, madam. But it’s up, not down.’

  ‘The principle remains the same, Jellicoe.’

  *

  Mrs Paradise slowly descended the back stairs, grasping on each step to intensify her feeling of self-sacrifice. She had just reached a corner and given vent to a loud ‘A-a-ah!’ when Beaufort sprang out on her with a loud ‘Boo!’ Seeing her scream and stagger, he caught her lightly round the waist, gave her a wet kiss, and said: ‘Got you that time Florrie!’

  ‘Don’t you ever do that again!’ she gasped.

  ‘Why, Florrie, from the way you talk one would think I’d never done it to you before!’

  ‘You’re a man now, not a little boy.’

  ‘But you still think I’m a little boy, don’t you, Florrie? You still look at my ears and knees as if they needed washing, just as you always did. Where are you going now? Come and talk to me. Tell me stories about when I was a child. Or are you going to flirt with wicked old Jellicoe?’

  ‘That’s quite enough, Master Beau. I’m going to work, and it would much improve you to do the same.’

  ‘D’you know there are secrets in Jellicoe’s past, Florrie? I know all about them. Before he came here he used to seduce women under a fake name and embezzle their money. I’m still trying to find out his alias. But one of the women ran away with all his savings, so he decided to reform.’

  ‘What a terrible way to talk! I would be ashamed to let such an accusation pass my lips.’

  ‘Why are you always so good, Florrie?’ he asked, escorting her down the stairs in gigantic jumps. ‘Do naughty memories suddenly come into your head and make you say: “Surely that was never me?” I’m watching you, too, you know. I pick up all sorts of things. For instance, when Mrs Finch, or Miss Chirk, or whatever her name is, came yesterday to apply for housemaid, she said you used to look a treat long ago, walking the fields with ribbons in your hair, singing: “There’s nae luck aboot the hoose wi’ Jellicoe awa’.”’

  ‘I remember no such rubbish,’ said Mrs Paradise, seizing the brilliant memory and tucking it away. ‘Nor do I remember any Mrs Chinch.’

  ‘Chirk or Finch, Florrie, I said.’

  ‘Not them either.’

  ‘Well, you’ll have to interview one or both of them, whichever they are, this morning, because I’m going to fetch her in the car.’

  ‘There’s a car coming now, I hear.’

  ‘That’s the doctor’s measured tread.’

  ‘What doctor?’

  ‘How do I know, Florrie? You know I never bother with names. He’s coming to see Mama. Papa’s agog.’

  ‘What’s the matter with your poor stepmother?’

  ‘Only a mushroom growth at the base of the spine. We hope it’s not malignant. If it’s benign, Mama’s going to have a little green collar made for it and take it with her everywhere.’

  ‘Oh, dear, what rubbish you do talk! And to jest even about a stepmother’s health! And to a widow! What’s that roaring noise?’

  ‘Only the doctor mounting the front stairs like the wind on the heath. I say, what a bonzer car he’s got! Look, you can see through the loop-hole. I wish we had one like that. How we’d show off at the big June house-party! Oh, do you know we’re getting a brand-new gardener? They’ve just come off the ration. The old one wore out. When we took him to pieces we felt it was a miracle he’d stayed together at all – his shins were down to the thinness of pencil leads and the whole pelvic basin was crumbled to bone-meal. It’s pretty good, you know; we bought him at twenty-two and six a week in 1889. The new one has a beard, but no one has dared to lift it yet and see what Nature meant. He’s bringing a Land Girl with him. His name’s Towzer, hers is Tray. They’re going to sleep together on mats in the west greenhouse. She’s so pretty, Florrie, such lovely red cheeks and she does give herself airs.’

  ‘She’d better not round me. Now you go away and fetch that other Chirk woman or I’ll never get this house to rights.’

  ‘All I really wanted to say, Florrie, was that it’s heavenly to have you up again.’

  ‘Well, you’re a sweet boy underneath, and I’ve always known it, if no one else has.’

  ‘Do you think I’ve got charm, Florrie?’

  ‘You know quite well you have. But it’s not charm that takes a man through life.’

  ‘No, you have to have some money, too.’

  ‘And it’s not money either I mean. It’s faith.’

  ‘But isn’t charm a kind of faith, Florrie?’

  ‘Now, we’re downstairs, so stop your prattling and go away. I must speak to Mr Jellicoe.’

  Beaufort vanished, and Mrs Paradise entered the huge kitchen. The very sight of its incredible filth and disorder stopped her heart, but she marched bravely through to one of the back passages where she heard a rumbling noise and saw a huge Indian cabinet edging towards her. ‘Mr Jellicoe!’ she cried.

  His head appeared over the back of the cabinet. ‘Thank God you’re back, Mrs Paradise,’ he said. ‘I’m at the end of my tether.’

  ‘I didn’t expect to find furniture being pushed through my kitchen,’ she replied, looking distastefully at his dirty face. ‘Nor did I expect to see my kitchen like a pigsty.’

  ‘I’ve done my best, Mrs Paradise. No one has heard me complain.’

  ‘I should hope not.’

  ‘All this furniture down from the town-house. They want it for the house-party. I’ve moved every ton of it with these two hands. It’s nearly broken my constitution.’

  ‘Well, Mr Jellicoe, if I may say so, the past always revenges itself We dissipate in youth what we should be glad to draw on in middle-age.’

  He blushed. ‘You have not come back in a very friendly mood, Mr Paradise,’ he said. ‘Only the thought of the loss you have sustained keeps me from retorting with the rough side of my tongue.’

  ‘I hope we are not going to resume relations with bitterness, quarrelling, and personal remarks,’ replied Mrs Paradise. ‘I am really still too ill to be about, and only poor Mrs Mallet’s illness has brought me down at all.’

  ‘Is her condition grave?’ />
  ‘That is for the doctors to decide, Mr Jellicoe. It is for us to stick to our lasts.’

  ‘I have had to couple my duties with yours, Mrs Paradise. It is not surprising if I have fallen between two stools. I trust some new staff will be arriving shortly. Two months alone is a long time.’

  ‘Surely it has not been as long as that?’

  ‘I believe it has. But I have not been in much state to judge. There have been moments when I have quite lost my head.’

  ‘Talking won’t find it again, Mr Jellicoe. At least you have got the stove going for me, I see. Now, will you kindly get that heavy thing of yours through my kitchen so I can start work?’

  ‘Gladly,’ he said, bending out of sight behind the cabinet, and pushing. The little castors began to chatter over the stone floor and as Jellicoe passed by, doubled up like a bow, a light shone in his bloodshot eye. ‘You could say any words you liked to me, Mrs Paradise,’ he panted; ‘and still just the sight of you would put me in heaven. I have dreamt of your return for nights on end, and from this moment I am a new man, starting a new life.’

 

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