The Book of Ebenezer le Page (63 page)

BOOK: The Book of Ebenezer le Page
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It was my girl in the desk and she smiled but looked worried, I thought; and when I was going to give her the three papers, she shook her head. ‘I am afraid Mr Carey wants to see you,' she said. ‘I hope it is to put my pay up,' I said. It was high time too, the way things was going up in the shops. ‘I will ring through and find out if he can see you now,' she said. All she said through the telephone was ‘Mr Le Page is here.' He said a lot at the other end, because the telephone was rattling; but I couldn't catch what it was he was saying. She said to me, ‘Mr Carey says he is very busy, but will make time to see you now.' She looked very serious. I began to wonder if perhaps something was wrong.

She came out of her office and said, ‘Come this way, please. I will take you up to his room.' She led the way up the stairs, and I followed her. I took my hat off on the way up; and arranged my few hairs. I wanted to make a good impression. She knocked on the door and a very gentlemanly voice said ‘Come in!' She opened the door and let me go in first. ‘Here is Mr Le Page,' she said. ‘Thank you, Miss de la Rue,' said Mr Carey; then she went out and closed the door, and left me standing in front of him. Well, I knew now she was a de la Rue, though I didn't know where from. I don't know yet which Mr Carey it was: they are all Careys at the States Offices; but you could see he was a very important person, and he sat in a big chair in a big way in front of a big desk.

There was two telephones on the desk. I suppose they was one for each ear; but I wondered how he could speak to and listen to two people at the same time. I know I couldn't. It is as much as I can do to speak to and listen to one person through the telephone; and I don't do that if I can help it. I like to be able to see who I am talking to. There was a wire tray on the desk on one side of Mr Carey with the word IN printed in big letters on it; but there was nothing in it. There was another wire tray on the other side of him with the word OUT printed on it; but there was nothing in that one either. There was a waste-paper basket under the desk by his chair, and that was empty; but on the desk in front of him was three piles of paper I recognised all too well: for they was written in my own big wobbly handwriting. They was the accounts I had sent in to the Cliffs Committee and the Natural Beauties Committee and the Ancient Monuments Committee, ever since I had started look after the ancient monument.

Mr Carey had a pair of spectacles with thick black rims on his nose, and sat staring at those three piles of paper as if I wasn't in the room. I felt a big fool standing there and him saying nothing. There was a chair by the desk on my side, but I thought I had better not sit down on it, unless I was invited. At last he took off his spectacles and polished them with a big white silk handkerchief he took from his breast pocket, and then put them back on his nose again and gave me a long hard look. ‘Mr Ebenezer Le Page, I believe,' he said. ‘Quite right!' I said. ‘Of course I know you by sight, who doesn't?' he said, ‘and by repute.' I wondered what he had heard about me. ‘Sit down!' he said. It was an order. I sat down and put my stick between my knees, and my old hat on the crook of my stick. ‘Is there anything I can do for you, Mr Carey?' I said.

He didn't seem to be able to think of anything to say for a minute. He had trouble with his breath and then said, ‘I fear there has been some misunderstanding.' ‘Have there?' I said. ‘Are you pretending you are not aware,' he said, ‘for over a considerable period of time you have been guilty of a deliberate duplication of accounts?' ‘I don't understand those long words,' I said. ‘I think you understand them perfectly well,' he said, ‘but it suits your purpose not to.' He went on and on and on, talking and talking, as only his sort can talk, and only telling me over and over again what I knew already as well as he did. I had sent in an account to the Cliffs Committee every week, and an account to the Natural Beauties Committee, and an account to the Ancient Monuments Committee; and all three accounts was for the same job of work. What did I have to say for myself? ‘I haven't sent in no account for no work I haven't done,' I said. ‘That may, or may not be,' he said, ‘but the fact remains you have knowingly claimed payment three times over for every scrap of work you have done for us!' I was beginning to get angry: he was being so unreasonable. ‘How can you expect a man like me to know which committee is which: when there are so many?' I said. ‘I only wanted to be sure to do the right thing.' I thought he was going to have a stroke.

He was red in the face naturally, for he is a man who eats and drinks well; but now he got so red he looked as if he might explode. He mopped his forehead with his big silk handkerchief. He was sweating. ‘The question now is, Mr Le Page,' he said, ‘how do you propose to reimburse the States?' ‘What do you mean?' I said. This was getting serious. He said, ‘How do you propose to pay back the amount you have been overpaid?' ‘I can't pay nothing back!' I said. ‘I live from hand to mouth.' ‘That is no excuse for defrauding the States,' he said. ‘Defrauding?' I said. ‘Do you mean robbing?' ‘Yes, daylight robbery; if you want it in plain English!' he said. I said, ‘Why, I have never robbed a penny from a person in my life!' I thought except those pennies from my father; but I couldn't help that. ‘A man can rob from Tom, Dick, or Harry,' I said, ‘but how can he rob from the States?' Mr Carey lay back in his chair, as if he was going to faint. ‘Frankly, I don't know what to do with you,' he said, shaking his head sadly. ‘If we go to law and prosecute, it will be like trying to get blood out of a stone.' It was my turn to go red! Goodness, what did he take me for? A beggar? I was in two minds to tell him I could bring him his silly old money that very afternoon, and not miss it; but then I thought perhaps I had better not. ‘I am sorry if I have made a mistake,' I said. ‘It wouldn't surprise me if you have thousands under the floor-boards,' he said. ‘It is stone floors at Les Moulins,' I said. ‘A protection against dry-rot, no doubt,' he said. He didn't know what he was saying. He had gone right off the rails.

I thought it was the right moment to bring up the business I had really come about. ‘How about my wages for this week?' I said. ‘I haven't been paid yet.' I held out to him the three pieces of paper I had brought with me. He reached across the desk and snatched them out of my hand and laid them down on the blotter in front of him as if they was alive and going to bite. ‘An ancient monument is NOT the concern of the Cliffs Committee,' he said, ‘and since when have there been any cliffs round your way?' He picked up that one of my papers and tore it across and across and threw the pieces in the empty waste-paper basket. My heart was in my mouth when I saw all that good money going to pot. ‘An ancient monument is NOT a natural beauty,' he said, ‘if ancient monument it be; and it is NOT the concern of the Natural Beauties Committee!' He picked up that paper too and tore it up, and threw the pieces into the waste-paper basket with such force I was lifted a foot off my seat. He gave me back the other. ‘The cashier will pay you that,' he said, ‘and in future, Mr Le Page, will you please address your account to THE ANCIENT MONUMENTS COMMITTEE ONLY!' ‘I am glad I know now what I got to do,' I said.

I got on to my feet to go out; but I was stiff on my old legs from sitting for so long in one place, and could only walk very slow with my stick towards the door. I had my hand on the door-knob and was going to say ‘Good-morning,' when I heard him call ‘Ebenezer?' I turned round in surprise. ‘You are not as lively on your pins as you used to be, eh?' he said. ‘Not quite,' I said. ‘Let me have that paper!' he said. I gave it back to him wondering what on earth he was going to do next. ‘Let's see, let's see,' he said, and he took out his fountain pen: ‘we allow you eight hours a week for that little job, isn't that so? Well, in the circumstances, I think we can allow you twelve.' He made an alteration on my paper and gave it back to me. ‘Thank you, sir!' I said. Mr Carey is a gentleman, but he is a Guernseyman as well.

When I got downstairs I noticed there was a young man I didn't know in the office. He was long and thin with long white hands and long pale hair and was wearing a pale grey suit. He seemed to be nosing into all the cupboards and drawers. I wondered if he had been there when I came in, and that was why my girl hadn't said much to me. She came to the opening now and took my paper, but she didn't look at me or speak. I saw her eyebrows go up when she saw Mr Carey had altered the figures. She paid me the money. ‘Please check it is correct,' she said. ‘Mistakes cannot be rectified after leaving the desk.' She said it like a gramophone. She had never spoken to me in that way before. ‘It is quite right, thank you,' I said. ‘Good-morning, Mr Le Page,' she said: it wasn't ‘Tcheerie!' as it usually was. ‘Good-morning, Miss de la Rue,' I said. I went away very worried. I couldn't believe for a moment it was through her I had been caught out; but I was afraid perhaps she had been caught out through me. I would have given anything to know.

The next Monday afternoon, I think it was, a lady I didn't know and who didn't give her name, came to the front door to find out if I was a person fit to be left to live on my own. She didn't put it as blunt as that; but that is what it came to. She was from some Society or another, and I think had been sent by Mrs Mourant, for she mentioned her name. She was very nice about it, but she said she thought it would be better for me if I was to let my house, and go and live in an Old People's Home: either Saumarez Park or, if I couldn't afford it, the Town Hospital. I got a bad fit of trembling. I said I was born in this house and had lived in this house all my life and, God willing, it was where I was going to die. She said I had her every sympathy; but I would be better looked after if I was to go into a Home, and I would have the T.V. and company and every comfort. ‘I am well looked after, as it is,' I said. She wanted to know by who. I had to say nobody, because I don't have help in the house: I look after myself. I kept her on the doorstep while she was talking; but she asked if she might come in. I had to let her. She wasn't as nosey as I thought she would be; but she had a good look round. She said she was pleasantly surprised finding the place so clean and well cared-for, and I had every right to be proud of it. I didn't offer her anything to eat or drink: I was feeling too bad-tempered. She went away and left a card with an address on it for me to write to, if I changed my mind. I threw it on the fire when she was gone.

14

The next Friday I went to Town with my paper filled in for the Ancient Monuments Committee, hoping my girl would be in the office by herself, so as I would be able to find out what had happened behind the scenes. She wasn't there, and the pale thin young fellow was in charge. He looked at me as if I had come to steal the Crown Jewels, and examined my paper very carefully; but when he couldn't find nothing wrong with it, he pushed my money across the counter with his long thin fingers. ‘Please check it is correct,' he said. I could see it was. ‘Thank you,' I said. ‘Good-morning,' he said. I couldn't very well ask him what had happened to Miss de la Rue or he might think I was another like big fat Le Bas. He have eyes like a fish and look just the sort who would think such things. I got the awful thought he might be the young man she had in mind. It was too horrible to imagine; but I have known worse things to happen. It is often the nicest girls who are the fools.

The Sunday night I got out my bottle of ink and pen and book and blotting-paper, and sat up to the table to write; but I couldn't think of a word to put down, and not a word more have I written until today. That was months and months ago. It had always been my hope to be able to end my book with my affairs settled; and myself ending my days in complete peace of mind. There didn't seem any chance it would ever be. I would be found dead in my bed one morning; and my house and everything I got would go to some cousins I didn't even know of. I got in such a state of mind I didn't care. I certainly wasn't going to visit any more people. It was a waste of time. I had been looking for a sign. There was no sign.

Altogether this winter have been the most miserable I have ever lived through. It was the long winter nights with nothing to do I couldn't stand. I would bring out the old book in the hope I might write down my thoughts, if nothing else; but not a thought to think would come into my head. I would have to put the book back in the drawer without a word written. I tried to read
Robinson Crusoe
again; but I knew already what was going to happen in the story, and couldn't go on with it. In the day I worked as usual in the greenhouse and outside in my slow way. I thought well, so long as I wake up in the morning, I got to do something; though God knows what for. I went to even more trouble to keep myself and the house as clean as possible, in case that woman came to see how I was getting along. I thought it was bad enough being on my own; but, if they was to lock me up in a Home and I had to be one of a lot of old people sitting around watching each other die, I would go mad.

She came again just before Christmas; but only to ask if I would like to have a dinner brought to my house Christmas Day. I said thank you very much, it was very kind, but it wasn't necessary, as I always go for dinner Christmas Day to my friends, the Le Boutilliers, who live in the house across the gully. She said she was glad I had friends so near. As a matter of fact, they are not really friends, young Jean and his wife, though I like the kids. It would be different if Julia was there; and I rue the day she ever went to work in a post-office in Essex and met that American airman. She lives in America now, and does not come home, even for Christmas. However, I asked the woman if she would like to come in and have a cup of tea. She said she would love one. I put a cloth on the table for her specially, and laid the tea properly and cut a cake I had in a tin. She was quite a nice woman really; and said no more about me having to be looked after. In fact, she said she thought I was wonderful for my age: I had such bright eyes and was so clear in the head. I felt the better for her visit.

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