Yes, Mama. Helen Forrester

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СКАЧАТЬ marks on her face. She sat silently in her favourite chair in the morning-room, her sewing untouched on her lap, and hoped Florence would not call for a few days more.

      At dinner, she sat at her usual place at the foot of the table. She never raised her eyes, except to order Maisie to serve or to clear the table. Humphrey smiled at her – it was not a pleasant smile and it filled her with dread; in the months that followed she rarely spoke to him.

      For several months, she cancelled her At Homes and invited no one to dinner, neither did she accept any invitations; she gave as the reason that Alicia’s birth had been difficult. As time went by and Andrew Crossing did not communicate with her, she felt physically and mentally ill.

      She waited patiently until Humphrey went to Manchester to stay with his brother, Harold, for a few days. Then she gave Maisie a week’s pay in lieu of notice and told her to pack her bags. When Maisie protested, Elizabeth told her that they had decided to reduce staff.

      ‘I want to speak to the Master,’ retorted Maisie mutinously.

      ‘Don’t be insolent,’ ordered Elizabeth coldly. ‘I decide who works in this house. And it is I who will write references for you. Do you want to be turned off without a reference?’

      At this deadly threat, Maisie caved in. Rosie was promoted to wait at table. When Humphrey noticed that Maisie was missing, he was forced to ask his wife where she was. She told him frigidly, between clenched teeth, that she was not going to be spied upon by a servant and that Rosie was quite satisfactory as parlourmaid. To get even with her, Humphrey told her that she would have to manage without a replacement girl.

      Rosie came into the room, bringing another bottle of wine for which Humphrey had sent her, so Elizabeth sat stonily eating her dessert and did not reply.

      Rosie and Fanny had to carry the work of a housemaid between them, and Rosie remarked thankfully that she would be married to the milkman by the end of the year. Fanny, who to her joy had had her wages quietly raised by a shilling a week, said nothing. She was learning to be a housemaid and that was real promotion for her.

      II

      ‘When is Alicia to be christened, Mama?’ inquired Florence, when finally her mother ordered a carriage from the stable and went out to visit her.

      ‘Well, I thought dear Clarence might do it in your church. It would be so nice to keep it in the family, wouldn’t it? I’ll get Mrs Tibbs to make a christening cake.’ She paused and took a nervous sip of the Reverend Clarence’s atrocious sherry from the glass in her hand. Then she babbled, ‘Charles went straight from school this year to stay for a few days with one of his friends – I thought as soon as he came home – a nice little family party?’ Her voice trailed off. She knew she could not face having the christening in her own church, St Margaret’s in Princes Road. It was almost certain that Humphrey would not attend it – and that would cause enormous speculation, a fresh flurry of unwanted interest.

      Florence felt that her mother was being unreasonable in getting her to have the party; it could be quite a large one, she thought wearily, if all her father’s relations came and her mother’s friends, not to speak of Aunt Clara from West Kirby, who was such a professional invalid that she would rearrange the whole Browning house to suit her convenience. ‘I hope that I’m not taken to bed at the wrong moment, Mama,’ she said anxiously.

      ‘Well, then we’ll make it a joyful double christening,’ responded Elizabeth unfeelingly.

      III

      Elizabeth had been thankful that her younger son, Charles, had been away in boarding school during the more obvious period of her pregnancy and during her lying-in; she had certainly not wanted the cold, dark blue eyes of a ten-year-old examining her during this confinement.

      When confiding to Sarah Webb, her oldest friend, the secret of her unwelcome breeding, she had wept on Sarah’s shoulder, afraid of Humphrey, afraid of the hazard of giving birth at forty years of age. Speaking of Charles, she had added, ‘Children always sense when something is wrong. And Charles always wants such precise answers to a question.’

      Sarah sighed, and stroked her friend’s dark hair. She had not only known Charles all his short life, but had been friends with Elizabeth and with Andrew Crossing since they first attended the same children’s Christmas parties together. She had watched with pity, as her beautiful young friend had been bullied by her parents into marriage with Humphrey.

      But Elizabeth had loved languid, charming Andrew, fair as some Icelandic god, a boy who appeared slow and lazy to her parents. His charm had, however, served him well in his subsequent career as a family lawyer, Sarah ruminated; even she herself, plain and studious, had worshipped from afar. She had been present at a ball, a few years back, at which Elizabeth had met and danced with him again; up till then, his old senior partner had always dealt with the affairs of Elizabeth’s father’s estate, so they had rarely seen each other. That winter, Andrew’s senior partner died and the care of Elizabeth’s affairs came into the hands of Andrew. Sarah had been greatly worried when Elizabeth promptly asked him to her next At Home.

      ’is it wise, my dear?’ she had asked, as she arranged her furs in front of Elizabeth’s mirror before going home. She was the last guest to leave and Elizabeth herself was prinking before the mirror.

      ‘I don’t care,’ Elizabeth had hissed savagely.

      ‘Well, ask his wife as well,’ suggested Sarah.

      ‘I did – but you know and I know she can’t stir out of the house – she’s stiff as a board with rheumatism and she has to be carried everywhere. And, anyway,’ she went on defiantly, ‘anybody may call on At Home days.’

      Sarah sighed glumly. ‘It’s foolish, my dear – very foolish.’

      Elizabeth bridled, and twirled in front of the mirror to show her fine, plump figure.

      Over coffee in Elizabeth’s morning-room the following day, Sarah had argued again.

      ‘I can’t help it, Sarah.’ Elizabeth’s wide dark blue eyes, so like those of her son, Charles, had a hint of tears in them. ‘I must see him,’ she said, ‘I simply have to. Humphrey has his fancy woman – surely Andrew and I can be friends.’

      Sarah bit her lips and said no more.

      IV

      When young Charles finally came home at the end of June, Elizabeth met him at Lime Street station.

      Charles had spent his Easter holidays with his Uncle Harold and his cousins in Manchester, so he had not seen his mother since the previous Christmas. She looked suddenly much older than he remembered, but when he inquired about her health as the hackney carriage traversed Lime Street, she told him brightly that she was quite well. She added that he now had a baby sister called Alicia – and, of course new babies were notorious for being rather tiring little people.

      ‘Well, that’s nice,’ he responded politely, ‘having a little sister, I mean.’ He was not really very interested. Babies came in all the households that he visited; they often died. He vaguely remembered having a baby brother who had died very young, though, when he thought about it, it was the memory of his elder brother, Edward, being upset about it that had stayed with him. Death had always upset Edward; funny that he should have become СКАЧАТЬ