The Spring Madness of Mr Sermon (21 page)

^{The girl looked at her husband, who cleared his throat. It s against t'law," he mumbled, in a thick Yorkshire brogue, tha c'n get pinched for driving a public transport vehicle without proper licence."}

^{"I dare say you can," said Mr. Sermon, testily, "but what alternative have we? Surely the law would make allowances in a case like this?"}

^{They were silent and Mr. Sermon now thought of them as a class of boys who had yet to become acclimatised to the tantrums of a}

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^{new master. One of the tradesmen said, "Somebody should walk up to the main road and stop a car."}

^{"Don't talk nonsense!" said Mr. Sermon, surprised himself at his own acidity. "By the time you got to the main road it would be dark and even if a car did come by, it's more than likely that it wouldn't stop!"}

^{Olga spoke, appearing unexpectedly at the sliding door of the cabin. "Well at least somebody come out and lend a hand to get the poor man in the dry!" and Mr. Sermon noticed that she obviously shared his poor opinion of the passengers and also that she no longer regarded the incident as amusing.}

^{The bride nudged £he groom who got up unwillingly. Two of the tradesmen shuffled forward and the group followed Sebastian into the open. It was still pelting down and the wind had risen. The driver, propped against the sodden hedge, was conscious but when they lifted him he groaned with pain and they found it very difficult to negotiate the coach steps and squeeze down the gangway to the rear seats from which the Kingsbay women were ejected so that he could lie full-length.}

^{"Sit beside him and put his head on your lap, Olga," said Sebastian, now assuming command of the situation and addressing her as though no one else was present. "I'm going to take the coach all the way back to Kingsbay unless we pass through anywhere that looks as if it had a resident doctor. In that case we'll stop off and get the poor chap attended to."}

^{She looked at him with a half-smile: "Have you ever driven a heavy vehicle, Martin?"}

^{"No," he admitted, "but I don't see that it can be all that different from driving a car. In any case, I can't see any alternative, so sit tight and hope for the best." He turned and addressed the coach as a whole: "Anyone who prefers can get out and wait here until I send transport back for them," he announced. "They could probably find shelter in the shack but they'd have to break in because the man has gone home and locked up."}

^{There was a protesting murmur at this but nobody got out. Dusk was already creeping down the valley and there seemed little prospect of the storm abating.}

^{134 »}

^{Ivlr. Sermon was not an expert driver. He had held a licence for twenty years but Sybil usually drove herself and latterly young Keith, their mechanically-minded son, had taken to driving the family car, so that Sebastian was out of practice. In any case he had never driven anything larger than a private car and had never been in charge of a commercial vehicle of any kind. The prospect of handling so large a coach horrified him, but with a great effort he got his nerves in hand and made a minute inspection of the driving panel. The gears were the kind operated from the steering-column and he was not even sure which was forward and which was reverse. The risk of reversing unintentionally, and backing into the patch of swamp was therefore considerable, so Sebastian spent the next few minutes practising gear changes and finally satisfied himself about the positions of the four gears. Then he looked closely at the lights and switched them on and off three or four times, after which he adjusted the driving mirror to his satisfaction and then, very cautiously, turned the ignition switch and pressed the starter button.}

^{The roar of the engine made his stomach turn over. He was awed by its deep note and by the sense of power it exerted, as though he had found himself in charge of an ocean liner during a violent storm or had been called upon, in the course of a nightmare, to drive the Royal Scot from Waverley Station to King's Cross. He sat rigid for a moment, gripping the big wheel so tensely that his knuckles gleamed and then, with a deep breath, he groped for bottom gear and gently eased the handbrake so that the coach slid slowly forward to the foot of the long winding hill, the beat of its engine keeping time with the thump of his heart and the speed alternating slightly as his right leg trembled under the thrust of the accelerator. Nobody offered a word of encouragement or advice but Mr. Sermon could sense the extreme tension among his passengers and deliberately put them out of mind, concentrating every scrap of nervous energy on the job in hand and inching up the steep hill at seven miles per hour.}

^{After the first hundred yards or so the woods began to crowd in on either side so that he took one hand from the wheel and jabbed at the headlight switch, flooding the narrow road with light}

^·*

^{and probing with his left foot for the dipswitch which he failed to locate. The hill seemed endless, winding on and on round a series of atrocious bends and Mr. Sermon spared a fleeting thought of sympathy for professional drivers who did this kind of thing for a living. He was conscious too of an overpowering desire to smoke but he knew that this was out of the question. He needed all his fingers and thumbs for the steering-column which seemed so big and wide that it gave the illusion of expanding against his taut belly and crowding him into the back of the seat. Then, miraculously, the woods fell away and the light improved as they climbed towards the plateau of the moor, and Sebastian could see the march of violet dusk behind a curtain of rain and a whole ballet of raindrops dancing under the thresh of the windscreen wipers. Confidence began to return to him, enough at all events to encourage him to shift his grip and lean forward as though, by so doing, he could relieve the dragging weight of the vehicle. He was sitting thus, like a jockey coming into the straight, when the coach lumbered round the final bend and out on to the glistening tarmac of the main *oad and here he made a wild grab at the gear lever, slammed the engine into top and stalled, ramming his foot on the brake and grabbing madly at the handbrake. The coach gave a kind of shuddering leap and every passenger catapulted forward, hands clutching madly at seat structures, but from the very back of the coach came Olga's clear voice: "Well done, Martin! Jolly good show!"}

^{He restarted the engine but forgot to disengage so that the coach gave another saurian leap. Putting them all out of mind again, he slammed into bottom gear and swung hard right, his left foot still probing for the elusive dipswitch in the hope of moderating the beam.}

^{The moor was empty and utterly desolate. Patches of scrub and stunted trees made it look like a vast pantomime scene in the glare of the lights and although to Mr. Sermon it seemed quite terrifying there was a majesty in its emptiness and in the steady lash of rain and rush of wind. He jerked down the window and inhaled great mouthfuls of air and with each gulp courage and resolution flowed into him as though he was swallowing neat spirit. After a mile or so of straight road he changed up, successfully this time, and then up once more and finally into top gear, pushing her along at thirty}

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^{miles an hour and sounding the horn, not because any other vehicle was in sight but because he wanted to prove to himself that it was indeed Sebastian Martin Sermon, late dogsbody of Napier Hall Preparatory School for Boys, who was propelling this vast, unwieldy monster into the gathering night and the teeth of hostile elements. He saw a signpost coming and glanced at it, making out the single word Porlock on one of the fingers. It was enough to enable him to get his bearings and he abandoned the idea of seeking help in a village en route and decided to push on all the way home, hills notwithstanding.}

^{They passed two or three cars, snicking past at high speed and one of them blared at him because he failed to dip. Once or twice he looked in the mirror but the interior of the coach was dark, for no one had thought to switch on seat lights and all he could see was a blur of white faces on a blue-black ground. Then, as the road began to dip, he had to grope about for more courage for he recognised the descent to Porlock Hill and recalled the driver's remarks about it as they were ascending it earlier in the day. For a moment he had a horrifying vision of the coach going faster and faster as it slipped from his control and went screaming round the bends to shoot off the banks and turn over and over, a shapeless, shattered hulk rolling down the gradient with its load of dead and dying tumbling about inside. He grappled with the vision and had it by the throat in a matter of seconds, slamming into low gear, pumping the footbrake and feeling a wonderful sense of relief as the speedometer swung back to twenty, then ten and then almost to zero. Easing himself back he tackled each separate bend as though it was a straightforward, methodically-solved problem, so much pay out, so much pay in, a touch on the brake here, a split-second estimate of leeway there, until the road levelled off and the lights of Porlock showed on each side.}

^{He knew that everyone, including Olga, expected him to stop here. He could sense their massed relaxation after the dreadful tension of the descent but now a kind of mad exhilaration took possession of him and he shot through the village and on towards Minehead, by-passing the town and emerging again on to the main coastal road to Kingsbay.}

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^{It was quite dark by now and he still had not located the dip-switch, but this did not worry him at all. He had full confidence in the new hand that Fate was dealing him, broad, straight roads, no bad hills and the slavish obedience of the monster under his hand, and he was prepared to stake life itself on playing these cards and calling the chips. He was like a hunting novice who, for the very first time in his life, finds himself out in front of the field and on the tail of the pack, the thrill of the chase conquering all sense of fear as the horse bounds forward, eating up miles as though they were furlongs and again like a horseman he was aware of a communicated sense of power quickening in his loins. He felt free and wild and reckless and triumphant, bold and eager and infinitely superior to the nameless ones behind. He charged through villages and past road junctions with his hand on the horn and when he was crossing the upland immediately above Kingsbay he began to whistle under his breath.}

^{It was only when he was descending the steep High Street that he thought of the injured driver on the back seat and remembered to swing left and right into the courtyard of the Cottage Hospital and here at last he stopped, or rather he reined in, coming close to bringing his mount up on its haunches.}

^{There was a kind of collective sigh from the passengers and Sebastian heard in it a great deal more than relief. They were admiring him, in a curious way they were showing that they were proud of him and realising this his contempt for them was transformed into a genial comradeship.}

^{They began to disperse, muttering good nights but giving him respectful glances as they scrambled out. Only the bridegroom remained for a moment at his shoulder, like a sergeant awaiting the order to dismiss.}

^{"I'll go in and tell them we've got a casualty aboard," he said, "maybe the porter will want a hand with him."}

^{Then, with the terrible effort a Yorkshireman requires to pay a compliment, "You brought her along fine, chum! Nay, Ah doan't mind admitting, Ah were bloody scared the first few miles but it were a dam' sight better than spending night in t'open Dad!" and he reached out awkwardly and patted Sebastian's shoulder with a pudgy hand.}

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^{The driver was still in pain but not so much that he forgot to th nk Mr. Sermon and ask him to explain the situation to the}

^depot.

^{"Tell Mr. Symes I'll 'phone through the minute they fix me up," he said, but the honeymooner broke in with: "Nay, Dad's done enough for one night, I'll cope with t' depot."}

^{"There's the coach," said the driver, "they'll have to send somebody up for it. I don't reckon it'd do for you to drive her in empty Maister. Give Mr. Symes heart failure I reckon!"}

^{"Never mind about the coach, get yourself attended to right away!" said Olga, adding, "I won't be a minute, Martin," as she helped him out and disappeared into the hospital.}

^{Mr. Sermon took no part at all in the explanations. It was, he suddenly decided, no longer his business, he had done his part getting them home but there was one thing that still bothered him and when Olga returned he was on hands and knees under the steering column.}

^{"What have you dropped?" she wanted to know.}

^{"Nothing," he said, "I'm locating that damned dipswitch. Imagine that! It's way out here on the left, tucked away out of sight. Wouldn't you think they'd make it more accessible while they were about it?"}

^{She laughed. "Come on for Heaven's sake and let's get dry!"}

^{He noticed then that her teeth were chattering and was immediately contrite. Under the tremendous stress of the drive he had forgotten the mudbath they had shared but now, as she waited for him in the circle of light shed by the porch lamp, he realised how disreputable they looked with half-dried mud coating their clothes and faces, mud in their hair and nostrils and shoes. He was not the slightest bit cold himself but it was clear that she was, so he took a rug from the coach and folded it across her shoulders.}