Just William (20 page)

But it was not ‘quite all right’ with William. Reader, if you had been left, at the age of eleven, in sole charge of a sweet shop for a whole morning, would it have been ‘all
right’ with you? I trow not. But we will not follow William through the humiliating hours of the afternoon. We will leave him as, pale and unsteady, but as yet master of the situation, he
wends his homeward way.

CHAPTER 11

I

‘S
he’s – she’s a real Botticelli,’ said the young man dreamily, as he watched the figure of William’s sister,
Ethel, disappearing into the distance.

William glared at him.

‘Bottled cherry yourself!’ he said indignantly. ‘She can’t help having red hair, can she? No more’n you can help havin’ – havin’—’ his
eyes wandered speculatively over the young man in search of physical defects – ‘having big ears,’ he ended.

The young man did not resent the insult. He did not even hear it. His eyes were still fixed upon the slim figure in the distance.

‘“Eyes of blue and hair red-gold,”’ he said softly. ‘Red-gold. I had to put that because it’s got both colours in it. Red-gold, “Eyes of blue and hair
red-gold”. What rhymes with gold?’

‘Cold,’ suggested William brightly. ‘That’s jolly good, too, ’cause she has gotter cold. She was sneezing all last night.’

‘No. It should be something about her heart being cold.’

‘That’s jolly good!’ said William with admiration. ‘It’s just like what you read in real books – poetry books!’

The young man – James French by name – had met Ethel at an evening party and had succumbed to her charm. Lacking courage to pursue the acquaintance, he had cultivated the friendship
of her small brother, under a quite erroneous impression that this would win him her good graces.

‘What would you like most in the world?’ he said suddenly, leaning forward from his seat on the top of the gate. ‘Suppose someone let you choose.’

‘White rats,’ said William without a moment’s hesitation.

The young man was plunged in deep thought.

‘I’m thinking a way,’ he said at last. ‘I’ve nearly got it. Just walk home with me, will you? I’ll give you something when we get there,’ he bribed with
pathetic pleading, noting William’s reluctant face. ‘I want to tell you my idea.’

They walked down the lane together. The young man talked volubly and earnestly. William’s mouth opened wide with amazement and disapproving horror. The words ‘white rats’ were
repeated frequently. Finally William nodded his head, as though acquiescing.

‘I s’pose you’re balmy on her,’ he said resignedly at the end, ‘like what folks are in books. I want ’em with long tails, mind.’

William was not unacquainted with the tender passion. He had been to the pictures. He had read books. He had seen his elder brother Robert pass several times through every stage of the consuming
fever. He had himself decided in moments of deep emotion to marry the little girl next door as soon as he should reach manhood’s estate. He was willing to further his new friend’s suit
by every legitimate means, but he was rather aghast at the means suggested. Still – white rats were white rats.

The next morning William assumed his expression of shining virtue – the expression he reserved for special occasions.

‘You goin’ shoppin’ this mornin’?’ he inquired politely of Ethel.

‘You know I am,’ said Ethel shortly.

‘Shall I come with you to carry parcels an’ things?’ said William unctuously.

Ethel looked at him with sudden suspicion.

‘What do you want?’ she said. ‘I’m not going to buy you anything.’

William looked pained.

‘I don’t want anything,’ he said. ‘I jus’ want to
help
you, that’s all. I jus’ want to carry your parcels for you. I – I jus’
don’t want you to get tired, that’s all.’

‘All right.’ Ethel was still suspicious. ‘You can come and you can carry parcels, but you won’t get a penny out of me.’

They walked down together to the shops, and William meekly allowed himself to be laden with many parcels. Ethel’s grim suspicion passed into bewilderment as he passed toyshop after toyshop
without a glance. In imagination he was already teaching complicated tricks to a pair of white rats.

‘It’s – it’s awfully decent of you, William,’ said Ethel, at last, almost persuaded that she had misjudged William for the greater part of his life. ‘Do you
feel all right? I mean, you don’t feel ill or anything, do you?’

‘No,’ he said absently, then corrected himself hastily. ‘At least, not
jus’
now. I feel all right jus’
now.
I feel as if I might not feel all right
soon, but I don’t know.’

Ethel looked anxious.

‘Let’s get home quickly. What have you been eating?’

‘Nothing,’ said William indignantly. ‘It’s not that sort of not well. It’s quite diff’rent.’

‘What sort is it?’

‘It’s nuffin’ – not jus’ now. I’m all right jus’ now.’

They walked in silence till they had left the road behind and had turned off to the long country road that led to William’s house. Then, slowly and deliberately, still clasping his burden
of parcels, William sat down on the ground.

‘I can’t walk any more, Ethel,’ he said, turning his healthy countenance up to her. ‘I’m took ill sudden.’

She looked down at him impatiently.

‘Don’t be absurd, William,’ she said. ‘Get up.’

‘I’m not absurd,’ he said firmly. ‘I’m took ill.’

‘Where do you feel ill?’

‘All over,’ he said guardedly.

‘Does your ankle hurt?’

‘Yes – an’ my knees an’ all up me. I jus’ can’t walk. I’m took too ill to walk.’

She looked round anxiously.

‘Oh, what
are
we going to do? It’s a quarter of a mile home!’

At that moment there appeared the figure of a tall young man. He drew nearer and raised his hat.

‘Anything wrong, Miss Brown?’ he said, blushing deeply.

‘Just
look
at William!’ said Ethel, pointing dramatically at the small figure seated comfortably in the dust of the road. ‘He says he can’t walk, and goodness
knows what we’re going to do.’

The young man bent over William, but avoided meeting his eyes.

‘You feeling ill, my little man?’ he said cheerfully.

‘Huh!’ snorted William. ‘That’s a nice thing for
you
to ask when you know you told me—’

The young man coughed long and loud.

‘All right,’ he said hastily. ‘Well, let’s see what we can do. Could you get on my back, and then I can carry you home? Give me your parcels. That’s right. No, Miss
Brown. I
insist
on carrying the parcels. I couldn’t
dream
of allowing you – well, if you’re
sure
you’d rather. Leave me the big ones, anyway. Now,
William, are we ready?’

William clung on behind, nothing loath, and they set off rather slowly down the road. Ethel was overcome with gratitude.

‘It
is
kind of you, Mr French. I don’t know what we should have done without you. I do hope he’s not fearfully heavy, and I do hope he’s not beginning anything
infectious. Do let me take the other parcels. Won’t you, really? Mother
will
be grateful to you. It’s such a strange thing, isn’t it? I’ve never heard of such a thing
before. I’ve always thought William was so strong. I hope it’s not consumption or anything like that. How does consumption begin?’

Mr French had had no conception of the average weight of a sturdy small boy of eleven. He stumbled along unsteadily.

‘Oh, no,’ he panted. ‘Don’t mention it – don’t mention it. It’s a pleasure – really it is. No, indeed you mustn’t take the parcels. You have
quite enough already. Quite enough. No, he isn’t a bit heavy. Not a bit. I’m so glad I happened to come by at a moment that I could do you a service.
So
glad!’ He paused to
mop his brow. He was breathing very heavily. There was a violent and quite unreasonable hatred of William at his heart.

‘Don’t you think you could walk now – just a bit, William?’ he said, with a touch of exasperation in his panting voice. ‘I’ll help you walk.’

‘All right,’ William acceded readily. ‘I don’t mind. I’ll lean on you hard, shall I?’

‘Do you feel well enough?’ said Ethel anxiously.

‘Oh, yes. I can walk now, if he wants – I mean if he doesn’t mind me holding on to his arm. I feel as if I was goin’ to be
quite
all right soon. I’m nearly
all right now.’

The three of them walked slowly up the drive to the Brown’s house, William leaning heavily on the young man’s arm. Mrs Brown saw them from the window and ran to the door.

‘Oh, dear!’ she said. ‘You’ve run over him on your motorcycle. I knew you’d run over somebody soon. I said when I saw you passing on it yesterday—’

Ethel interrupted indignantly.

‘Why, Mother, Mr French has been so kind. I can’t think what I’d have done without him. William was taken ill and couldn’t walk, and Mr French has carried him all the way
from the other end of the road, on his back.’

‘Oh, I’m
so
sorry! How very kind of you, Mr French. Do come in and stay to lunch. William, go upstairs to bed at once and I’ll ring up Dr Ware.’

‘No,’ said William firmly. ‘Don’t bother poor Dr Ware. I’m all right now. Honest I am. He’d be mad to come and find me all right.’

‘Of course you must see a doctor.’

‘No, I
mustn’t.
You don’t understand. It wasn’t that kind of not wellness. A doctor couldn’t of done me no good. I jus’ – jus’ came over
queer,’ he ended, remembering a phrase he had heard used recently by the charwoman.

‘What do you think, Mr French?’ said Mrs Brown anxiously.

Both Mrs Brown and Ethel turned to him as to an oracle. He looked from one to the other and a deep flush of guilt overspread his countenance.

‘Oh – er – well,’ he said nervously. ‘He
looks
all right, doesn’t he? I – er – wouldn’t bother. Just – er – don’t
worry him with questions. Just – let him go about as usual. I – er – think it’s best to – let him forget it,’ he ended weakly.

‘Of course he’s growing very fast.’

‘Yes. I expect it was just a sort of growing weakness,’ said Mr French brightly.

‘But Mr French was
splendid
!’ said Ethel enthusiastically. ‘Simply splendid. William, I don’t think you realise how kind it was of Mr French. I think you ought to
thank him.’

William fixed his benefactor with a cold eye.

‘Thank you very much indeed for carrying me,’ he said. Then, as his mother turned to Ethel with a remark about the lunch, he added, ‘
Two,
remember, and, with long
tails!’

Mr French stayed for lunch and spent the afternoon golfing with Ethel up at the links. William was wrapped up in rugs and laid upon the library sofa after lunch and left to sleep off his
mysterious complaint in quietness with the blinds down.

Mrs Brown, entering on tiptoe to see how her son was faring, found him gone.

‘Oh, he’s gone,’ she said anxiously to her husband. ‘I left him so comfortable on the sofa, and told him to try to sleep. Sleep is so important when you’re ill. And
now he’s gone – he’ll probably stay away till bedtime!’

‘All right,’ said her husband sardonically. ‘Be thankful for small mercies.’

Ethel and her esquire returned to tea, and, yielding to the entreaties of the family, who looked upon him as William’s saviour, he stayed to dinner. He spent the evening playing inadequate
accompaniments to Ethel’s songs and ejaculating at intervals rapturous expressions of delight. It was evident that Ethel was flattered by his obvious admiration. He stayed till nearly eleven,
and then, almost drunk with happiness, he took his leave while the family again thanked him profusely.

As he walked down the drive with a smile on his lips and his mind flitting among the blissful memories of the evening, an upper window was opened cautiously and a small head peeped out. Through
the still air the words shot out –