Authors: Mary Jane Staples
The ground he had worked over yesterday was patterned with large heaps of white ashes that were still faintly smouldering. Mr Gibbs appeared, emerging from the trees and crowded undergrowth on the left. Jimmy went to meet him.
âHullo, Jimmy, glad to see you again. You did a fine job yesterday. There's a similar clearing through here. The landscape gardeners are working to their own design. You'd think they'd simply make a sweep from east to west or north to south. No, they're going to leave some areas untouched for the time being and tidy them up later, and make a coppice of each. They're the areas where they won't take out all the saplings, they'll thin them out, they'll design each coppice individually. Come this way, Jimmy.'
Mr Gibbs led Jimmy through flattened undergrowth and out to a clearing similar to yesterday's, but larger. And there was far more sawing to be done. The landscape men had taken out a host of saplings, diseased trees and dead trees. The trunks were piled at one edge, the lopped branches lay in thick array. Jimmy's job was to saw up those branches for burning. The rest of the clearing was a mangled bed of chopped undergrowth.
âLord above,' said Jimmy.
âYes, there's work here for a week,' said Mr Gibbs.
âI think I could do it in three days, or four, Mr Gibbs.'
âGood for you, if you can, Jimmy. Same procedure. Build bonfires and we'll fire them tonight. Is the bramble giving you any trouble?'
âIt put up a fight yesterday,' said Jimmy. âThe big stuff can wrestle like a gorilla, y'know. Tried to down me once or twice, so I used the cutters to get my own back. I'd get sorry for meself if I let bramble down me.'
âWell, shout if it does,' said Mr Gibbs, and again left him to it.
Jimmy went to work. It was another warm day, and the sky hung blue above Anerley, remote from the crowded streets of Walworth. And the morning was peaceful. There was no sign of Sophy. At half-past ten a whistle called him up to the terrace. Mrs Gibbs was there. On a table stood a cup of tea and a plate containing a fresh jam doughnut.
âHere you are, Jimmy, tea this morning, and a doughnut.'
âWell, I don't know how to thank you, Mrs Gibbs,' he said, his forehead bedewed with perspiration, his hair tousled and damp. âJam doughnuts 'appen to be my favourite partiality.'
âAnd mine, when I was your age,' smiled Mrs Gibbs. âada's just come back from the baker's with two dozen, and Ivy took a plateful down to the men, with a pot of tea.'
âI must say, Mrs Gibbs, it's like bein' in the country here, and you're like the squire's wife.'
âOh, I'm playing the grand lady, am I?'
âWell, you look like one, Mrs Gibbs,' said Jimmy, seating himself on the top step.
âI hope I don't,' she said, âgrand ladies are toffee-nosed, aren't they?'
âI don't think you are, Mrs Gibbs,' said Jimmy. She handed him the cup and saucer and the plate containing the doughnut. âAnd I don't think squires' wives are, either. Squires' wives take baskets of eggs round to poor village people and sit with sick ones to make sure they take their medicine.'
âFascinating,' said Mrs Gibbs.
âPardon, Mrs Gibbs?'
âYes, quite delicious.'
âYou come across that sort of thing in books,' said Jimmy, and began to eat the doughnut.
âDo you read lots of books, Jimmy?'
âAs many as I can get hold of.'
âI wish Sophy read a lot more and messed about a lot less,' said Mrs Gibbs.
âIf I might say so, Mrs Gibbs, Sophy's still a bit young,' said Jimmy. âNot many boys and girls read a lot until they get to my age.'
âOh, dear, poor old Methuselah,' said Mrs Gibbs, finding the boy appealing.
âMe?' he said.
âSo old,' she said.
âI suppose I am gettin' on,' said Jimmy, washing the last of the doughnut down with tea.
âOh, my word, how depressing, Jimmy.'
âYou have to face up to that sort of thing, Mrs Gibbs.'
âYes, we must all attack the dread years bravely,' said Mrs Gibbs. âWell, finish your cup of tea, and Ada will see that you get some sandwiches at midday.'
âYes, Mr Gibbs said not to bother to bring my own, like I did yesterday.'
âQuite right. You need not bother, Jimmy. Well, I must go now.' Mrs Gibbs entered the house by way of the conservatory.
Ada appeared. âI left a doughnut here,' she said.
âGlad you did,' said Jimmy.
âWho's eaten it?' asked Ada.
âMe,' said Jimmy.
âThere's a good boy.'
âI heard that,' said Jimmy.
âJust havin' my own back,' said Ada, her little white maid's cap perky. âWe all had a doughnut this mornin', except Mr 'Odges. He says it's not dignified for butlers to eat doughnuts.'
âI don't think I'll be a butler, then,' said Jimmy.
âWhat d'you want to be?' asked Ada, collecting the cup, saucer and plate.
âWell, I've thought about bein' a husband and father,' said Jimmy. âNot this week, of course.'
Ada laughed. âNo, nor next week, I shouldn't think,' she said.
âI thought about later on,' said Jimmy. âWell, it's been nice talkin' to you, Ada, but I've got to get on, I'd better go and join the other men now.'
âOther men?' Ada laughed again. âJimmy, you're potty.'
âYou're nice too,' said Jimmy, and went whistling on his way. Ada watched him go, a smile on her face.
Jimmy resumed his work, mashing bramble to pieces with a long pair of secateurs and building up bonfires. He could hear the landscape gardeners working farther down. The twelve acres of ground were on a gentle slope, and Jimmy could imagine that when everything had been cleared except little woods, the view from the house would be marvellous. He did some sawing after a while, and placed manageable branches on top of the high heaps of debris, creating pyramids. A little after twelve, the whistle blew again, and he found Ada standing on the bottom step of the terrace. On a tray in her hands was a glass of ginger beer, two ham sandwiches and a slice of cake. The sandwiches were large, the bread fresh and crusty, the filling generous.
âHere we are, Buffalo Bill,' said Ada, âsomething to keep you goin'. How you gettin' on?'
âFine,' said Jimmy, taking the tray, âand I must say I'm bein' treated handsome.'
âMaster and madam don't believe in starvin' the workers,' said Ada. âHave you seen the young madam?'
âNo, not this mornin',' said Jimmy.
âShe's slipped her 'andcuffs,' said Ada.
âHelp,' said Jimmy, âdoes Mrs Gibbs have to handcuff her?'
âGood as. It never works. That's why she's called the young madam. If you see her, Jimmy, bring her back up 'ere.'
âMe?' said Jimmy.
âIt's an order from Mr 'Odges,' said Ada. âHe's in charge of the young madam while Mrs Gibbs is out. Of course, if she's down there with 'er father, you don't have to worry, but if she's not, well, Mr 'Odges said tell that young boy Jimmy to bring her back to the house.'
Jimmy eyed her gravely. Ada put on a demure look.
âSupposin' she won't come?' said Jimmy, ignoring the little arrow.
âThrow her over your horse,' said Ada.
âI'll have to find one first. D'you live here, Ada?'
âOf course,' said Ada, perkily proud, âwe're not common dailies, we're proper staff. 'Ope you enjoy the sandwiches, cook did them for you. You're a nice young boy, she said.'
âI'm really goin' to have to see to you, Ada.'
âPercy will dot you one in the eye if you do,' said Ada.
âWho's Percy?'
âMy young gentleman.'
âWhat a sickenin' blow,' said Jimmy. âI might as well go and let something 'eavy fall on me now.'
Ada laughed and Jimmy took the tray down to his work area. He sat down on a tree trunk, took a swig of the ginger beer and began to make healthy inroads into the sandwiches. The ham had been sliced off the bone and mustard applied. Jimmy ate with relish. Mr Gibbs insisted he took thirty minutes break at midday.
A voice reached his ears the moment he'd finished his snack. âJimmy!'
âOh, help,' he muttered.
âJimmy!'
âYes?' he called.
âCome down here.'
âWhat for?'
âJust come, will you?' Sophy's voice emanated from the jungle below.
âI'm busy, and you've got to go back to the house.'
âI'll kick you if you don't come when you're called!'
Resignedly, Jimmy went. He crossed the clearing and entered the jungle by way of a trampled path between high grasses and rampant ferns. It sloped downwards. Sophy appeared. Holy Moses, thought Jimmy, she'll catch it. She was bare-legged and her feet were black with wet mud. Her white blouse was spotted with mud and her blue skirt was tucked up high above her knees. A blue hair ribbon was loose and dangling, and her eyes were accusing.
âYou're for it,' he said.
âI called you six timesâ'
âTwice.'
âDon't argue,' said Sophy, âjust turn around.'
âWhat for?'
âSo I can kick you.'
âExcuse me, but I'm not keen on bein' kicked by girls,' said Jimmy. âIt's not good for me self-respect, and what d'you want to go around kickin' people for, anyway?'
âNot people,' said Sophy, âyou. You didn't come when I called you and you're a cheeky beast as well.'
âAll right,' said Jimmy, âlet's get it over with, then, or you'll stand there hollerin' at me. It beats me, the way girls holler if you don't do what they want. But I'm not turnin' round. Just kick me this way.'
âI will too,' said Sophy, and kicked at him with a muddy right foot. She missed. Jimmy wasn't there any more. It unbalanced her completely, and she fell over. A little shriek escaped her. âOh, you rotten boy!'
âNot rotten,' said Jimmy, âjust a bit of quick footwork on my part, and if you don't mind me sayin' so, you're not much good at kickin'. I'd give it up if I was you. I mean, if you like goin' around kickin' people, what's the good of it if it only makes you fall over?'
Sophy, coming to her knees in trampled ferns, stared up at him. Jimmy looked as grave as an undertaker, but she didn't see him as that, she saw him as a kindred spirit. Suddenly, she was bubbling with giggles. âOh, I like you,' she said, and came to her feet. âBut I've still a good mind to push your face in.' She laughed. âBut I won't this time. Come down here.'
âWhere?'
âTo the pond. I've lost Ferdy. You can help me find him.'
âWho's Ferdy?' asked Jimmy.
âMy frog. Didn't you know there was a pond down here?'
âNo, and I didn't know there were any frogs, either. Ada says you've got to go back to the house.'
âOh, not yet, Mummy's out till one o'clock. I'll go up then and have lunch with her, honest. Come on, it's your break time.'
âYes, but I've only got about ten minutes left. Then you've got to go back.'
âJimmy, don't fuss, just come on.'
He took his workman's apron off and followed her down the beaten track to the edge of what she called a pond but looked like a bog to him. A large wet surface was thick and green amid sprouting water grass. Trees surrounded it.
âSome pond,' he said.
âOh, look, there's Ferdy, get him for me!'
A frog's head was above the green slimy surface, a head with two round heavy-lidded eyes. Jimmy, further resigned, took his shoes and socks off.
âHow d'you know that's Ferdy?' he asked, rolling his trousers up.
âOf course I know. Get him for me.'
âAll right,' said Jimmy. The fact was, young Sophy's high spirits and sense of adventure were infectious. He moved forward, his feet sinking a little. He had frog-hunted in London ponds with friends in his younger days.
Sophy darted, bare feet entering the morass, and her hand reaching. The frog vanished. âOh, bother,' she said.
âThat's no way to catch a frog,' said Jimmy. âYou wouldn't even catch an elephant like that.'
âOh, you daft boy, who wants to catch an elephant? Jimmy, look, he's there again.'
The frog's head had made a reappearance, and was closer. Jimmy silently stooped. The bulbous eyes of the frog were unblinking. He trailed his hand across the surface of the green slime, dipped it and scooped the frog up. It came alive in his hand. Sophy shrieked with joy as he held it firmly.
âThere you are,' said Jimmy, and transferred the creature to her hands. âNow you'd better go back.'
Sophy laughed, held the frog in one hand and gave him a playful push with the other. With his feet slightly sunk in the boggy ground, Jimmy fell backward, landing on his bottom. He felt the wetness of the earth transfer itself immediately to the seat of his trousers.
âCrikey, what're you sitting down for?' asked Sophy and burst into laughter.
âThat's done it,' said Jimmy. He got up, shifted his feet to firmer ground and said, âYou goin' back, Miss Gibbs, or not?'
âMiss Gibbs?' Sophy, frog still in her hand, her feet muddier, her skirt still tucked up into the legs of her short drawers, stared at him like a girl delighted that he really was a kindred spirit. âOh, aren't you funny? And I'm not going back, I'm going to climb trees with you. There's apple trees up on the other side of the pond â oh, you beast, you rotten rotten boy!'
She was off her feet and over his right shoulder. Jimmy, supple and strong, had her in a fireman's lift. Her head hung down over his shoulder, his arm was around her skirted thighs, and her bare legs were kicking. She'd lost the frog, and her fists were pummelling his back.
âThis way,' said Jimmy, and began to carry her back over the trampled path to the clearing. He carried her across the clearing, Sophy shrieking.