Gerald and Elizabeth: A poignant and captivating family saga Page 4

  The morning was fine and dry with a pleasant nip in the air so Gerald decided to walk. A helpful policeman told him the way to Molyneux Mansions. It was a large block of modern flats near Regent’s Park with a strip of garden in front; an imposing dwelling-place, Gerald decided.

  The hall-porter, also, was imposing (he was a watch-dog to keep out strangers in shabby clothes) but he thawed and became quite human when Gerald gave his name.

  ‘Miss Burleigh is expecting you, sir,’ he said. ‘Your luggage will be coming later, I suppose. I’ll take you up in the lift. Miss Burleigh won’t be up yet but Miss Meredith will look after you. I’m Bold,’ he added.

  ‘You’re bold?’ asked Gerald in surprise.

  ‘Bold is my name,’ explained the man. He was tired of jokes about his name.

  The lift moved noiselessly to the third floor where there was a wide corridor carpeted in crimson. Bold led the way to a cream-coloured door and pressed the electric bell. The door opened immediately.

  ‘This is Mr Burleigh,’ said Bold. ‘His luggage is coming later. I’ll bring it up when it comes, Miss Meredith.’

  ‘Thank you, Bold,’ said Miss Meredith.

  Gerald was astonished at the beauty of Miss Meredith’s face. He had seen pictures of saints which were just like that, with pale, calm faces marked by suffering patiently borne, with wide dark eyes and smooth hair drawn back and knotted at the nape of the neck. It was not until she turned to open the door of the sitting-room that he saw she was a cripple, a hunchback.

  ‘I’m so glad you came early,’ she told him. ‘Miss Burleigh hoped you would. She usually gets up about eleven and has a cup of coffee before she takes Gubby for a walk in the Park. Perhaps you would like to sit down and look at the papers? She won’t be long.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Gerald. ‘Please tell her not to hurry.’

  Miss Meredith put a log on the fire, gave him the daily paper and went away. He sat down and looked about. It was one of the most beautiful rooms he had ever seen – certainly the most peaceful. The fitted carpet was a soft dark green, with a white fur rug in front of the fire. There was a large sofa, several comfortable chairs and wide window-seats with cushions on them. There was a grand piano, several bookcases, and cupboards full of exquisite china. The big windows which looked out on to the Park were of double glass, so the room was quiet. It was quiet and restful and spacious.

  Gerald rested peacefully and listened to the gentle tick of the clock which stood upon the chimney-piece. He had had no peace for months; no real peace, no silence. There was real peace here in this lovely room.

  It was surprising that there were no flowers. Last night Elizabeth Burleigh had been showered with magnificent bouquets.

  The thought had scarcely crossed his mind when Miss Meredith came in with a china vase full of pink roses; they were still in bud with long stems and dark-green shiny leaves.

  ‘This is a lovely room,’ said Gerald. ‘It’s very quiet. You might be miles from London’s busy streets.’

  Miss Meredith nodded. ‘Yes, I love this room. It’s so restful. The whole flat is restful; I never want to go out.’

  ‘Those are lovely roses.’

  ‘Yes. Miss Burleigh doesn’t like a lot of flowers. She gets too many – we send them to the hospital. She just likes a few roses. Sir Walter sends her roses twice a week.’

  Miss Meredith put the vase on a low bookcase and rearranged the flowers. Then she turned and added, ‘You aren’t reading the paper.’

  ‘I’m enjoying the peacefulness. The paper is sure to be full of horrors.’

  She nodded. ‘But it’s good for us to know what’s happening in the world.’

  ‘Is it good for us?’ asked Gerald. ‘Does it do us any good to read about people being robbed or drowned or murdered – or to look at pictures of miserable refugees?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ replied Miss Meredith doubtfully. She hesitated and then added, ‘Perhaps you’d like to see your room, Mr Burleigh?’

  ‘I don’t think I shall be staying here,’ he replied.

  ‘I expect you will,’ declared Miss Meredith, smiling. ‘Miss Burleigh usually gets what she wants.’

  Then she went away and, soon after, Bess came in. She greeted Gerald warmly and sat down beside him on the sofa.

  ‘Now, Flick,’ she said. ‘Now you’re going to tell me all about it. Then we’ll have our coffee and take Gubby for a walk.’

  ‘Gubby?’

  ‘He’s a black and tan dachshund,’ explained Bess. ‘A friend gave him to me when he was a puppy, and he was so greedy that we called him “Mr Gubbins.” Then he began to put on weight so Matilda and I decided to harden our hearts. We enjoyed giving him titbits – but it wasn’t fair. So we made a hard and fast rule likes the Medes and Persians that, no matter how sweetly Gubby begged, he was to get nothing – absolutely nothing – except his proper food. Two meals a day,’ said Bess sternly. ‘Gubby knows now and doesn’t bother so it’s better for everyone – and he has an extremely elegant figure.’

  ‘You’re very wise,’ declared Gerald. ‘It certainly isn’t fair to overfeed dogs. I shall look forward to meeting the elegant Mr Gubbins.’

  ‘And you can help to exercise him, can’t you? Take him out for a walk when I’m busy.’

  ‘But I’m not going to stay with you.’

  ‘Not going to stay with me?’

  ‘No,’ replied Gerald. ‘I’ll come and see you whenever you want me and I’ll willingly take Gubby for a walk, but I’m not going to stay with you, Bess.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because I’ve lost my job and I’ve got to find another.’

  ‘You’ve lost your job?’ she asked incredulously.

  ‘Sacked for stealing – or attempting to steal diamonds.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, Flick.’

  ‘It’s true,’ he declared. ‘I was caught red-handed. The stones were sewn into the lining of my jacket.’

  ‘Who put them there?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Gerald miserably. ‘All I can tell you is they were found sewn into the lining of my jacket, so of course I was sacked without a reference.’

  ‘You were sacked?’

  ‘Yes, then and there. It was decent of Proudfoot not to prosecute me and have me sent to prison. I’d have got five years at least – probably more.’

  Bess took his hand and held it. She said, ‘For goodness’ sake stop talking nonsense and tell me in plain words what happened.’

  For a few minutes Gerald was silent. Then he said, ‘It’s a long story and – and I don’t know where to begin. Angus Proudfoot is the manager of Koolbokie – you know that, don’t you? Pat Felstead was my assistant.’

  ‘You got him the job.’

  ‘Yes, he was with me at the technical college. We both took the course in electrical engineering so it was natural for me to recommend him when I heard he was out of a job. Besides he was my best friend so I knew we should get on well together. You remember him, don’t you, Bess?’

  She nodded. ‘Yes, you brought him home sometimes to lunch or supper. You used to tell us how clever he was.’

  ‘He is clever – he was an excellent assistant – and good company as well. We shared a bungalow for eighteen months and never had a disagreeable word.’

  ‘Go on, Flick. Come clean,’ said Bess encouragingly.

  Gerald saw that he would have to ‘come clean.’ He knew Bess of old and was aware that nothing would satisfy her but the whole story. It was all the more difficult because there were so many things that must be explained, and because life at Koolbokie was so utterly different from the life Bess was leading in London. He felt hopeless of making her understand.

  The diamond mine was in an isolated spot, miles from Johannesburg. It was like a little village in itself with huts for the miners and bungalows for the manager and his staff. Gerald and Pat Felstead rarely had a week-end off duty at the same time – it was better that one or other of them should be on the spot – but occasionally they managed it and went to Jo’burg in Gerald’s car for a spree.

  One Friday morning, when the two were starting off together, they saw a group of native workers waiting at the gate. It was essential that they should be examined before they left the mine in case they had stones in their possession. They were examined in the X-ray department (it was the only way to make certain that they had no diamonds hidden in their mouths or in their hair or, possibly, that they had swallowed a couple)! Neither Pat nor Gerald was subjected to the indignity of an examination; they were above suspicion and were free to come and go as they pleased. Some of the other members of the staff had the same freedom; others had not.

  Pat was always cheery but on this particular morning he was in the wildest spirits for he was going to meet a girl in Jo’burg – a certain Miss Lily Oxton – who had taken his fancy. Gerald had heard a great deal about ‘Lily’ and knew his friend’s plans so he wasn’t surprised when Pat stopped to have jokes with the native miners. Pat was throwing his hat into the air and catching it on his head or on his foot. The men were grinning at his antics. Gerald was annoyed with Pat for behaving like a mountebank. He stood and waited impatiently. He was even more annoyed when he heard Pat saying that he was going to be X-rayed.

  It was just Pat’s fun, of course, but it was a mistake, Gerald thought. The men respected you if you behaved in a dignified manner … and it was easier to maintain your position of authority if they respected you. By allowing himself to be examined Pat was putting himself on a level with the natives.

  ‘Come on, Gerry!’ shouted Pat. ‘You must be examined too. Everybody should be examined. Everybody – or nobody! Your turn now!’

  ‘We haven’t time,’ replied Gerald, adding under his breath, ‘Don’t b
e a fool, Pat. You know I don’t like this sort of thing.’

  ‘Oh, come on! It won’t hurt you – just for once!’ cried Pat, laughing and taking his arm. ‘The chaps enjoy a little fun.’

  The men were watching eagerly to see what was going to happen and Gerald realised that it would be less undignified to agree than to make a fuss so he allowed his friend to lead him into the X-ray department.

  Having got thus far in his story Gerald stopped short and hid his face in his hands.

  ‘Go on, Flick,’ said Bess encouragingly.

  ‘I’ve told you,’ muttered Gerald.

  ‘You haven’t told me!’

  ‘Yes, I have. They found five stones sewn into the lining of my jacket.’

  ‘How did they get there? Who put them there?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘But Flick, darling, you must have some idea …’

  ‘No, I haven’t the slightest idea how they got there. I was never so surprised in my life.’

  ‘You’re shielding someone?’

  ‘No.’

  Bess hesitated and then said. ‘What happened after that?’

  ‘Oh, there was frightful consternation. They sent for the manager, Angus Proudfoot. He was furious with me. He raged and stormed and said the most dreadful things. It’s like a nightmare, Bess. I can’t bear to think of it.’

  ‘But, Flick, didn’t you tell them——’

  ‘Of course I told them! I told them over and over again that I had no idea how the stones had got into the lining of my jacket. They didn’t believe me. Angus said he would send for the police and charge me with theft. That scared me properly: I knew it meant prison. Pat was almost in tears, he said, ‘Angus, you can’t! It will mean five years – or more! You know that as well as I do. Please listen to me! Please listen!’ At first Angus wouldn’t listen, he was too angry, but Pat went on trying to persuade him to let me go and say no more about it. They argued and argued – it seemed like hours to me – but at last Pat wore him down and made him listen. Pat pointed out that if Angus charged me with stealing diamonds the case would be tried in court and cause the most awful scandal; everyone would be talking about it. ‘Let him go,’ repeated Pat. ‘We can hush it up. You don’t want everybody talking about it, do you? Angus, please consider the matter seriously! You don’t want headlines in all the newspapers.’ Angus saw the point. He hesitated and then said ‘All right, have it your own way. He can go now – this minute – and I hope I shall never see him again.’ I was so dazed that I was helpless. Pat hurried me out to the car and helped me to get in. He kept telling me to get a move on and drive, hell for leather. He said I had better make for Cape Town, where nobody knew me. He said, ‘For heaven’s sake hurry before Angus changes his mind.’ I had a last try. I said, ‘Pat, listen! There’s some mistake. I swear I didn’t do it.’ He turned his back and walked away.

  ‘So that was that,’ said Gerald bitterly. ‘My best friend believed I was a thief. I started the engine and made for Cape Town. I had to stop at several places on the way, of course. I don’t know where I stopped. I had my suitcase with me (we had intended to go to Jo’burg for the week-end). There had been no time to go back to the bungalow for more clothes – and anyhow I had never thought of it. When I got to Cape Town I felt terribly ill. I collapsed in the street and they took me to a hospital. The doctor said it was pneumonia.’

  ‘Oh, poor Flick!’ murmured Bess compassionately.

  ‘I was there for weeks,’ continued Gerald. ‘They were good to me, so perhaps it was the best thing that could have happened. When I came out of hospital I sold the car and managed to get a cabin in a ship bound for Southampton. I put my name down as Gerald Brown. Now you know why I’m not going to stay with you, Bess.’

  ‘Of course you’re coming to stay with me!’

  Gerald looked at her. She was smiling. He said in surprise, ‘Do you believe my story?’

  ‘Believe it? Of course I believe it! Did you think I wouldn’t believe it? Oh, Flick, what a donkey you are!’

  ‘I thought you might not want to have me,’ he muttered. ‘I’m a down-and-out. I’ve lost my job and there’s no hope of getting another.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ Bess exclaimed. ‘You’ve let it get you down. It was a frightful shock to you – I see that – but it’s over now so you must put it behind you and start afresh. You must put it out of your mind.’

  ‘I can’t,’ he told her. ‘I can’t put it out of my mind because I shall never be able to get a decent job. I’ve tried, so I know. When I apply for a post and tell them I’ve been chief electrician in a diamond mine they say they’ll write to the manager for a reference. You don’t understand, Bess. I’m a ruined man – I’m done for – it would be better if I were dead.’

  ‘That’s wicked!’ cried Bess. ‘It’s stupid, too. You’re young and fit. We’ll find a job for you … but the first thing for you to do is to give yourself a good shake and get rid of your inferiority complex. Stop feeling that everyone is looking at you and——’

  ‘How do you know I feel like that?’ he interrupted.

  ‘It’s obvious, my dear. Now listen to me: you’re innocent so you’ve nothing to be ashamed of.’

  ‘I feel – ashamed.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I don’t know, really. I feel – dirty. I feel as if the mere suspicion that I could have played such a low down trick had – dirtied me. Angus and Pat both believed I was a thief. So did Stafford, the X-ray man. They all thought it. Angus said I had used my position as cover. I had betrayed my trust. He said I was a traitor not only to him but to every white man in Africa.’

  ‘But you’re innocent,’ declared Bess somewhat impatiently. ‘You didn’t betray your trust. You aren’t a traitor. The whole thing was just a stupid mistake. I wish we could get to the bottom of it and find out the truth.’

  ‘We can’t,’ said Gerald hopelessly.

  ‘Well, in that case you must just accept it. You’ve got to accept the good and the bad in life and make the best of them. I don’t mean you should knuckle-down – anything but! I mean it’s no good trying to row against the tide. Now just do as I say,’ she continued. ‘Take a taxi and fetch your luggage. You’re coming to stay with me here until you find a job.’

  ‘Bess,’ he began earnestly.

  But it was no good. She had put her fingers in her ears.

  5. GERALD IN CLOVER

  Gerald was in clover: he had never been so comfortable, never occupied such a comfortable room in all his life. It was furnished as a bed-sitting-room with a solid table to write on and a couple of easy chairs. The bed was as soft and springy as a cloud. There was an electric radiator and a fixed basin a large basin in which a man could shave and wash without crouching or knocking his head against a glass shelf. There was a good light over the mirror and a small electric plug for a razor. When Gerald had unpacked his few belongings and put them away in the drawers and cupboards he sat down and looked about him. It struck him quite suddenly that this room looked as if it had been carefully designed and furnished for a man. What man?

  However it wasn’t his business and he had no intention of asking. If Bess wanted to tell him about her private affairs she would tell him.

  Gerald had expected the life of a ‘star’ would be hectic but, apart from her work, Bess led a very quiet life. She was showered with invitations but she refused them firmly.

  ‘I can’t do both,’ she explained. ‘I used to go to lots of parties but it wore me out and my work suffered. You may not think it but “Aurelia” is hard work.’

  ‘Of course she is! You’re on the stage all the time.’

  ‘Most of the time … so I was obliged to cut out social engagements. Some people think it’s a pose, but it isn’t. Besides I’m happier leading a peaceful life. I take Gubby for a walk in the morning and have lunch at home – Matilda knows what I like to eat. I rest in the afternoon; then I have a light early meal and go to the theatre feeling fresh. You can fit in with my routine, can’t you, Flick?’

  Gerald fitted in quite easily. He got up early and took Gubby for a run. He breakfasted with Matilda in the kitchen; then, when Bess was ready, they had a cup of coffee together and went for a walk. After lunch while Bess was resting Gerald prowled about London searching for a job. The light meal was at six o’clock. In the evening, while Bess was at the theatre, Gerald settled down to write letters: he applied for posts in all sorts of businesses, suitable and unsuitable, and answered every advertisement in the daily papers.