The Adventures of God in His Search for the Black Girl (10 page)

‘Allow me to introduce Gretel, the Dreigroschen au pair.’

The Hon. Mrs Grimple-Tones, who was 35 and beautiful in what her husband insisted was the Grecian style, was moved by the story of Effie Snuck. Effie had (at 18) lived a wicked life, but she was now sincerely repentant.

Mrs Grimple-Tones therefore gave her consent when the curate asked if he might bring Effie Snuck for an interview.

‘There now, Effie,’ Mr Chaunt said when he had ushered Effie into the lacy drawing-room, ‘it’s very good of Mrs Grimple-Tones to see you.’

‘It’s very good of Mr Chaunt to interest himself in you and
ask
me to see you,’ said Mrs Grimple-Tones gently and with a smile.

Effie looked at the carpet, the like of which she had never seen for elegance.

‘Do not feel abashed, Effie,’ Mrs Grimple-Tones said in her soft voice. ‘Mr Chaunt has told me about your past. Indeed, I understand the fruit of it is still with you. Where is he now, by the way?’

‘I left ’im downstairs with Cook, mum, but ’e won’t be mischeevious, don’t you worry, ’e’s that good a child.’

‘I’m sure Cook will keep a firm eye on him anyway. Mr Chaunt tells me, Effie, that you are anxious to make amends and lead a useful, decent life.’

‘Yes mum.’

Mrs Grimple-Tones looked at the girl, who, she decided, had amenable ways and was as pretty as an eating apple. There was none of the coarseness you might have expected.

‘Would you like to live here, Effie? I will personally train you.’

‘Yes, mum. But what about Charlie?’

‘We shall put you in the attic, Effie, where there will be plenty of room for him, too. He will be a companion for my own little boy. They are much of an age.’

‘Thank you, mum.’

‘You must call me madam, Effie, not mum.’

‘Yes madam.’

‘I see you are quick to learn. I have every hope you will soon learn to be a good gel.’

‘Yes, madam.’

‘You come from a milieu, Effie, where impurity is rife, and where picking and stealing and telling fibs are as common as breathing. Here, you must put deceit behind you, and live
uprightly
and truthfully.’

‘I’ ope so, madam.’

‘You must learn to say hope, not ’ope.’

‘Hope, madam.’

‘That’s a good gel. Now I expect you’d like to start being useful as soon as you can, so run along and see if Cook has any little jobs for you.’

‘I’d be glad to ’elp out, madam.’

‘Help, Effie, not ’elp.’

‘Help, madam.’

‘Cook’s always busy on a Thursday, because that’s when I’m a-tome.’

‘Hey,’ Charlie said three months later, ‘do you know what?’

He was sitting on the floor under the table where Cook was making pastry.

‘What, then?’

‘Young Gerald says when the Season’s over and we all go to the country, I can have a ride on his pony.’

‘“Young Gerald, young Gerald” – do you mean Master Gerald?’

‘Everybody calls me Young Charlie.’

‘That’s different. What a stupid boy you are.’

Swiftly, efficiently and unobtrusively, Effie served tea on the
lawn at Porringers.

‘I’m delighted’, Mrs Grimple-Tones said, when Effie had withdrawn from earshot, ‘with Effie.’

‘You’ve done wonders, m’dear,’ Burlington Grimple-Tones replied, pulling at his garden chair so that he came squarely in front of the sandwiches.

‘She’s easy to train,’ Mrs Grimple-Tones said modestly.

‘Speaks much better now,’ Burlington said. ‘Never an
h
wrong these days. Cuts a very delicate sandwich, too. Wonders, m’dear.’

‘At heart she’s a good gel. It just needed a touch of kindness, and the influence of an upright home, to bring it out. She accompanies me to church every Sunday, you know,
Burlington
.’

‘Wonders.’

‘She’s really more of a companion than a maid. And it’s nice for Gerald to have a companion, too.’

‘Generous little soul, Gerald,’ Burlington said. ‘I saw him in the paddock just now, giving young Charlie a ride on the pony.’

‘So you see, Burlington,’ Mrs Grimple-Tones said with a smile at her husband, ‘all your worries – about receiving an evil influence into the house and so forth – were silly, weren’t they?’

‘You were right, m’dear. You always are. Still: I hope you’re not thinking of extending your charity too far?’

‘I’m not thinking of taking on another gel, Burlington, if that’s what you mean. That would be extravagant and quite unnecessary. For one thing, gels are so much better when you train them yourself. For another, Effie does the work of two.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ Burlington replied. ‘But that wasn’t what I had in mind.’

‘What was it, then, dear?’

‘If Lady Gourd should call: you wouldn’t think it was a work of Christian charity to receive her, would you?’

‘Lady Gourd? Why shouldn’t I receive her, Burlington?’

Burlington leaned forward. ‘At dinner with the Elfins, Lady Gourd declared she could see nothing reprehensible in the conduct of Mr Osc [mumble] Wi [mumble].’

‘How sad,’ said Mrs Grimple-Tones reflectively. ‘I’d always thought Lady Gourd a good woman.’

‘Just because it’s sad,’ Burlington said, ‘You wouldn’t—? I mean to say: you thought Effie’s history was sad.’

‘O Burlington, but the two cases are
quite
different. Lady Gourd flaunts her wickedness. Effie was repen – Yes?’

Mrs Grimple-Tones looked up and spoke more sharply than usual, because she had been caught talking about Effie by Effie, who had silently crossed the lawn and was standing by the trunk of the cedar tree.

‘Lady Gourd is here, madam.’

Burlington Grimple-Tones looked intently at his wife.

‘Please tell her’, Mrs Grimple-Tones said serenely to Effie, ‘that I’m no-ta-tome.’

‘But madam,’ Effie cried.

‘I’ve told you before, not to put your hand up to your mouth in that way. It’s a singularly vulgar gesture. Now what do you wish to say?’

‘You
are
at home, madam. I can’t tell a lie.’

After a moment, Mrs Grimple-Tones said in her gentlest voice:

‘I’m deeply disappointed, Effie. I had hoped you’d put
behind
you the insolence that it characteristic of the milieu you came from. Tell one of the other servants to give my message to Lady Gourd, while you go and pack for yourself and young Charlie. You must be out of Porringers by nightfall.’

‘I don’t like it here, mum,’ Charlie said.

‘Don’t talk so roughly, darling. Call me mother, not mum.’

‘I still don’t like it here, mother. There’s no space and everything has a sort of smell. I miss the pony. I miss Gerald.’

‘If it’s any comfort to you,’ Effie said, ‘Master Gerald will soon be leaving Porringers himself, to go to school.’

‘Do you mean he’s coming to my school?’ Charlie asked excitedly.

‘No of course not. His is a preparatory school, a boarding school.’

‘Is a boarding school different from a Board school? They sound alike.’

‘Well, they’re not. Master Gerald
couldn’t
go to your
school.’

‘Why? Isn’t he a good enough scholar? Wouldn’t the school take him in?’

‘They’d be honoured to have him. But his parents wouldn’t let him. Master Gerald at the Board school at Market
Frumlington
, indeed!’

‘Isn’t it a good school, then? Then why do I have to go to it?’

‘To get an education,’ Effie said.

‘Then what does Gerald get at
his
school?’

‘That’s a silly question.’

‘I don’t like it at school. The schoolroom’s smelly.’

‘That’s not a nice word, darling. I’ve told you not to talk roughly.’

‘I
try
to talk rough. The other boys tease me if I talk sissy.’

‘Pay no attention. They’re only ignorant market-town boys.’

‘They say you’re the town tart.’

‘That’s not a nice word either.’

‘They say I’m a bastard and you were turned out of
Porringers
without a character and the only way you can keep the wolf from the door is to go with all the men on market day in Market Frumlington.’

‘I keep telling you not to speak roughly. Please try to speak like Master Gerald, Charlie.’

Gerald Grimple-Tones came out of evening chapel, turned left towards the fives court and was ambushed by three boys, who surrounded him.

‘Grimple-Tones! What’s your first name, Grimple-Tones?’

‘Gerald,’ said Gerald.

‘Ge-rald! Ge-rald!’

‘You can call me Gerald, if you like. I don’t mind.’

‘Gerald says he doesn’t mind.’

The chaplain came round the corner, saw the group and paused, pretending, in case he should be seen, to be lighting his pipe.

‘Are there any more at home like you, Gerald?’ the biggest of the three boys asked.

‘I’ve got a baby brother. As a matter of fact, he was only
born last week.’

‘And I wonder which of you is wetter.’

The three boys laughed. Suddenly the tallest stepped
forward
and punched Gerald on the cheek.

Gerald’s eyes became watery.

‘See,’ said one of the three boys. ‘Wet.’

Reluctantly Gerald turned round and presented his other profile.

The three boys moved towards him.

So, quickly, did the chaplain. ‘Now then, you lot. Aren’t you due at late prep?’

‘Yes sir. Sorry sir.’

All four began to scamper away.

‘Tones!’ said the chaplain. ‘Wait.’

The chaplain joined Gerald and stood puffing at his pipe, looking down.

‘Seldom,’ he eventually said, ‘have I seen such a wet,
spiritless
little sneak. Why didn’t you defend yourself, boy?’

‘Please sir, because of “And unto him that smiteth thee on the one cheek offer also the other; and him that taketh away thy cloke forbid not to take thy coat also.”’

‘Is it, I wonder,’ said the chaplain, puffing in an
ostentatiously
wondering way, ‘insolence or priggishness.’

‘Please sir, I don’t understand you, sir,’ Gerald said in a frightened voice.

‘Or perhaps it is sheer obtusity.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Now listen to me, Tones. The precepts of Our Lord, which we learn in chapel, apply on the very highest level of principle and morality. To apply them on the level of day-to-day existence is to cheapen them by dragging them down to our own mundane level of being. I trust I have put that clearly enough for even your somewhat mundane intelligence to grasp. Now cut along to late prep, and don’t let me catch you being such a beastly little wet again.’

‘Open your lesson books at page seventy-three,’ said Miss Bight, moving the cane to the left of the sloping top of her tall
desk. ‘We come now to one of the most glorious chapters in our history: Agincourt. This was an occasion when the ordinary people of England shewed a bully that they were made of the stuff of heroes. Now: can anyone remember what the war was about?’

A little girl raised her hand.

‘Yes, Lucy?’

‘The kings of England owned part of France. But the French king tried to get it back.’

‘Excellent.’

‘Weren’t they Christians, Miss?’ asked Charlie Snuck.

‘If you want to ask a question, Charlie Snuck, put your hand up.’

Charlie did so.

‘Yes?’

‘Weren’t they Christians, Miss?’

‘Of course they were Christians. Weren’t you paying attention in the lesson where I told you how religion overcame paganism?’

‘But if the French were Christians, Miss, why didn’t they
let
the English take the land? And if the English were Christians, why did they resist when the French tried to take it back? In Scripture, Miss, you said: “him that taketh away thy cloke
forbid
not to take thy coat also.”’

‘Come to my desk, Charlie Snuck. Hold out your right hand.’

Miss Bight caned Charlie’s right palm.

‘Now hold out your other hand also.’

Miss Bight caned Charlie’s left palm.

‘I hope that will help you, Charlie Snuck, not to confuse personal matters with affairs of state. On the national level, we have but one duty, our duty to king and country. While it is important to render unto God the things which are God’s, it is no less important to render unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s. Now go and spend the rest of the lesson outside the door.’

‘From all you say, padre, the boy’s obviously a wet. Thing is: is he
also
a swot?’

‘Not he, Headman. Matter of fact, I’d say he was
exceptionally
obtuse.’

‘Him. We’d better give him some extra cramming, then, if we’re to get him into public school.’

Beside the name Snuck, C., Miss Bight wrote:

‘A stupid boy, who does not pay attention during lessons, though he occasionally remembers a bit parrot-fashion, without understanding it. Since he is unable to benefit, he should leave school as soon as possible and be apprenticed to some simple handicraft.’

‘O Charlie,’ Effie said, ‘what
have
you done? If you break your apprenticeship, you’ll have nothing to come back to.’

Charlie still had a year to serve of his informal
apprenticeship
to a market gardener in Market Frumlington.

‘If you knew what pinching out the young lettuces does to a man’s back, mum, you’d see I had to get spliced while I was still game for it.’

‘I don’t object to your getting married,’ Effie said, ‘though you shouldn’t have let yourself get caught so young, and if you’d taken the trouble to keep your ways nice you could have done a lot better for yourself. But why did you have to join the army as well?’

‘Call of king and country,’ Charlie replied. ‘I thought it was time to render unto the Kaiser a few of the things which ought to be the Kaiser’s. Anyway, it can’t be worse than market gardening.’

‘I do hope, Charlie, you won’t let being among soldiers influence you to speak roughly.’

Charlie had heard the new second-lieutenant was named Grimple-Tones and had realised that it must be Gerald. He spent more energy dreading their meeting than dreading the German shells. In the event, however, Gerald, in the course of
making his way along the trenches, simply noticed Charlie and said without embarrassment: