Sister of the Housemaster (2 page)

“
I just came to say,
”
she said, hovering as if for immediate flight,
“
that I was sorry to rush off so rudely before supper. We live by bells and the clock, but I didn
’
t want to leave a bad impression behind me.
”

“
Well, now you
’
re here, Miss Everton, stay and have some coffee,
”
said Arnold.

“
I would like to,
”
said Miss Everton.
“
You all look so very comfortable and cosy in here
—
and such a lovely fire.
”

Laurence gave her his seat and took another nearer to Ingrid. Sylvia looked round the circle and smiled a little sardonically. She knew very well that Laurence would not have stayed so long previous
l
y, and that Miss Everton did not often come, of her own choice, to spend time in this living-room. Ingrid might have thought mat this pleasant fireside circle of people, chatting at leisure about school affairs, was a frequent occurrence. Sylvia knew that it was not. They had come to see and talk to Ingrid. She looked across the hearthrug to where Ingrid was deploring the fact that the coffee supply had come to an end, and studied her sister-in-law. She always had that way, thought Sylvia, of exaggerating everything, of overdoing all her actions; always had those mannerisms, that way of opening her eyes wide
as
she listened to people, of appearing to hang on their words. No doubt she thought it flattered them. Certainly, Laurence Pinder was falling for it, Well, how would Nora Everton like that? Sylvia had no doubt at all in her mind that Miss Everton had seen Laurence arrive and had followed him after a decent interval. She always searched for people
’
s
motives, and very often found the wrong one.

“
We would a
ll
like some more coffee,
”
Ingrid said.
“
I
’
ll go and make some. It won
’
t take long.
”

“
Yes, do,
”
said Sylvia politely, and Ingrid turned round swiftly to her.

“
I
’
m so sorry, Sylvia,
”
she said quickly.
“
I
’
m usurping. You musn
’
t let me, you know. Is it all right if I go and make some more coffee?
”

“
My dear child,
”
said Sylvia,
“
of course you may make coffee.
”
She was annoyed that Ingrid
’
s quick interpretation of her meaning had seemed to put herself in the wrong.

“
Let me come and help you,
”
said Miss Everton, but Ingrid said she needed no help, and disappeared into the kitchen. Soon they were embarking on the second issue of coffee, and Arnold, Laurence and Miss Everton were entertaining Ingrid with details of some of the funnier happenings at the school. She listened with interest and most attentively, as a new world appeared before her; a world in which the Head was the all-powerful figure, in which the Cathedral loomed very large, in which strange personalities appeared as Housemasters, tutor-masters, Canons-in-residence; in which the mainspring was the boy.

At last, Sylvia said they must excuse her as she was tired find would like to go to bed. Laurence and Miss Everton rose at once.

“
No,
”
said Sylvia,
“
don
’
t let me break up the party. You all carry on.
”

They would not hear of it, however. They protested that they had stayed too long and tired her. They said their good nights quickly and went away, and Sylvia noticed that they both gave Ingrid the friendliest of smiles as they went.

“
What nice people,
”
said Ingrid, when they had gone,
“
and what a pleasant evening. Now Sylvia, let me help you. You tell me what has to be done.
”
She and Arnold helped Sylvia to her bedroom and Ingrid helped her to get to bed. When she returned to the living-room her brother was there waiting for her, smoking his pipe and looking relaxed and at peace.

“
Come and sit down,
”
he said.
“
Lord, it
’
s nice to have you here, Ingrid.
”

“
Good. It
’
s nice to see you, too. Miss Everton seems a pleasant person to have as your Matron.
”

“
Yes, she
’
s a very good girl. And very competent. You need competence to cope with the seventy boys in this House. And she
’
s been working harder than ever lately, helping Sylvia. She
’
s put herself out a good deal
—
it quite worried me. I couldn
’
t think of anybody but you to ask, Ingrid. I hope it doesn
’
t put you out too much.
”
Ingrid thought how Arnold
’
s version of Miss Everton
’
s helpfulness differed from his wife
’
s.

“
Well, your S.O.S. just happened to come at a between time, when I
c
ould get away. You knew I finished my training, oh some time ago?
”

“
Yes. And you really like this work you
’
ve taken up?
”

“
Yea, immensely. It
’
s most absorbing, and it brings you into touch with such a great variety of human beings.
”

“
What is it you call it? Radio-therapy?
”

“
No, darling. Radiography. Really two quite different things. I find it most interesting. When I had finished my training, I had a chance to go out with a mass-radiography unit for a while, replacing Miss Weller who was ill. But what I want to do is to work in hospital, and preferably at my own hospital
—
where I trained. But there isn
’
t a vacancy at the moment. So you see I come to look after Sylvia for a while, and later perhaps there will be a vacancy.
”

“
We had a mass-radiography unit here. Most of the boys took advantage of it. It
’
s a splendid idea.
”

“Y
e
s
, we do a lot of schools. And factories. And mines. It
’
s satisfying to feel that you are doing a useful job. And people are so interesting, too. Perhaps, eventually, they become an indistinguishable mass, but I can
’
t imagine it. At present, they are more like a pageant to me
—
a pageant of Dickens
’
characters.
”

“
I
’
m a little concerned about bringing you here, Ingrid, when you are in the middle of interesting and pressing things yourself. I feel it was too much to ask.
”

“
It wasn
’
t, Arnold. I didn
’
t mind a bit, and illness is a thing nobody can help.
”

“
Well, I can only compromise. We won
’
t keep you here any longer than we have to.
”

Ingrid went to his side, and stroked back his hair.

“
Don
’
t fe
el
guilty, Arnold. I think I shall enjoy it here if you have pleasant friends like Mr.
Pinder
and Miss Everton. And you and I can catch up on months of news
—
and, with any luck, I can do some studying.
”

“
If my pleasant friends allows you to. I could see that Pinder was not entirely indifferent to your charms.
”

“
Now darling, none of these false notions meant to flatter. I expect young women are so rare in a boys
’
school that almost any one of them would seem attractive. Now, I think I should go to bed, too. I
’
m rather tired.
”

“
Good night, Ingrid, I
’
m so happy to have you here.
”

She smiled at him and went to her room, a small one on the ground floor, pleasantly furnished. As she prepared for bed, she thought back over her evening. It had been most unexpectedly agreeable. Sylvia
’
s little barbs might be exasperating, but no doubt it was simply a tiresome habit she had fallen into. Arnold, and the others were, delightful. Laurence Pinder was a most attractive young giant
—
and not, as one might suppose from his appearance, all brawn and no brain for what had Arnold said of him? A language wizard. An astonishing scholar who picked up degrees and hono
u
rs with ease. Ingrid decided t
hat the outlook was far from dull
.

Next morning, Ingrid received a foretaste of
w
hat her stay with Sylvia would be like. Arnold breakfasted in Hall, and it had been arranged that Ingrid should cook her own breakfast and take Sylvia
’
s to her in bed. A little later, she helped
S
ylvia to get up and establish herself on the couch in the living-room. The daily maid accounted for the housework, but she was, in fact, so slipshod that Ingrid herself went round and dusted after her. Enforced idleness gave Sylvia so much time for reading that endless visits to the library were entailed. She grumbled that she had often been without an interesting book for days on end, and she saw Ingrid
’
s visit as an end to this unpleasant situation. Also, it appeared that some addition to the plain fare of school was a necessary item, and Sylvia had two little shops in the town where this addition could be obtained. At one, she could buy the most delicious little cream cakes; at the other, light, warm crisp scones. They were ready in the afternoon, in time to bring home for tea; and this too was to be a duty for Ingrid. Wondering when her free time could be fitted in, Ingrid decided to combine all the errands into one afternoon stroll, and was rather thankful that so much escape was easily available. Another difficulty, from Sylvia
’
s point of view, was that the telephone was upstairs in Arnold
’
s study, in the school part of the House; and, as she was unable to g
o
there, Ingrid would have to undertake her telephone calls for her. Ingrid, holding that watching brief, did not comment on any of these arrangements. She waited to see how they would work out.

That afternoon, equipped with a highly-colored basket which Sylvia had bought in Rome, and many instructions, Ingrid set out for the shops. The country town was completely dom
inated
by the Cathedral, its spire plainly visible from every quarter. The narrow, twisting streets had grown up, haphazard, through the centuries and houses of every period jostled each other on the narrow pavements, often overhanging until their upper
w
alls almost met from opposite sides.
M
odern
traffic, compressed into these old streets, was often hopelessly jammed, and patient policemen arrived to sort out the muddles and send irritated drivers on their way. There were a good many souvenir shops, many tea shops, and many shops that catered for the needs of the boys at the school. There boys, mysteriously absent from afternoon lessons, darted through the traffic on their ill-used bicycles, risking death
lig
ht
-heartedly
over and over again, familiar to all the townspeople in their formal black and white garb.

Ingrid enjoyed her walk. That Sylvia enjoyed a certain prestige among the shopkeepers was obvious when mention of her name brought smiling attention. Ingrid changed the library books, bought the cream cakes and the fresh scones, bought the s
ta
mps, posted the letters, and walked back to the school.

She missed her way. It was very confusing among all the
n
arrow streets. She arrived at the Cathedral, where Evensong was in progress, and, tempted by the sound of the choir singing, she went inside, took a seat at the back, and decided
s
he had earned a few minutes of relaxation. Winter
afternoon dusk had already arrived at the Cathedral, and where Ingrid was sitting it was almost dark
.
She looked ahead to the screen, to the lights beyond, to the people of the congregation, and listened to the boys
’
voices raised in pure effortless harmony. It was still and enchanting and uplifting, and Ingrid rose with reluctance, after a while, to make her way back to Sylvia, She went out by a different door, to find hers elf at the top of a short flight of stone steps which led to the cloister
s
. She went down and began to walk around, under the elegantly-vaulted roof, to where
she hoped the school buildings would begin. She was afraid she was once more hopelessly lost.