After Such Kindness Read online

  ‘You wouldn’t like them so much if you had one every day,’ he said. ‘Just think – you’d have to eat that immense picnic luncheon over and over again, starting with the sandwiches and chicken; and working through the salmon and shrimps. And then, as soon as you finish with the jellies and cake, you have to start again with the sandwiches, and so ad infinitum.’

  ‘We’d be sick,’ said Emma, making a face. ‘My brother Ralph was horribly sick after eating too much at his birthday party.’

  ‘But he’s a little boy,’ said Mr Jameson with a shudder. ‘And boys are full of snips and snails as you very well know.’

  ‘What are little girls full of, then?’ Enid asked shyly.

  ‘Well, don’t you know the song? Sugar and spice and all things nice?’ he said, smiling at her. ‘I wouldn’t wish you to get swell-headed, little Enid, because it would hurt too much – but girls, in my opinion, are the most delightful creatures in the world.’

  ‘Not always, Jameson.’ My father came up behind us. ‘Girls always have a lot to say for themselves.’

  ‘Well, it would be strange if they had a lot to say for other people.’ Mr Jameson laughed.

  ‘Yes,’ said Annie. ‘Because you’d have to get inside other people’s brains first. You’d have to coil up really small, and be squashed against the sides of their heads.’

  ‘Ugh, that’s horrid,’ said Emma.

  ‘Quite horrid. But there’s no need for such bodily contortions,’ said Mr Jameson. ‘Try using your imagination, little ladies. That’s the best way to get into someone else’s head. There’s space for everything there – whole countries and universes if you have a mind to it.’

  I couldn’t help thinking about this, and how you can carry so many pictures in your mind even though your actual head is so small in size, and I thought Mr Jameson was very clever and not at all like the rest of the grown-up people I knew.

  I am astonished at how much I remember, now my mind has jumped back to that time. But did Daisy remember that day as I do now? And did she remember John Jameson the same way? I lift the journal from my lap and turn the page. The next entry is very long, and I’m obscurely cheered at her diligence. If she writes as much for every other day, I’ll be here for hours. But I must take every word and paragraph in the strictest of order.

  Sunday 8th June

  I am writing my journal very early, while it is still a bit dark. I think I am what Nettie calls Overtired which means I can’t sleep and the same things keep going round and round in my head, so I thought I would write them down before I forget. I’ve taken the old bit of candle from Nettie’s bedside. I don’t think she’ll wake up yet. She’s snoring a little bit which she always does when she’s worn out, which she is of course, after all that happened.

  The first part of the picnic party was a Great Success. We went a long way up the river and had our picnic at a very nice place. The sandwiches and cakes were very nice too and Mama said I had chosen well. That made me very pleased although I know Papa would say that is the Sin of Pride, but as it was my birthday I hope God will forgive me. Papa says He is a Loving God so that must mean He will forgive me – although He punishes people too and I don’t quite know how He decides which of the two to do. For example, I don’t know why He should want to punish my brother as he is an Innocent Infant who has done no wrong, but when I asked Papa about it, he just said that the ways of God are a Mystery. It’s hard to understand these Mysteries as they are most contradictery but the miracle is that Benjy was saved and I must try not to mind about my party ending so quickly without all the games, although if I am truthful, it was very disappointing.

  Before it happened Mr Jameson amused us with funny drawings and told us jokes that weren’t jokes really, but still funny. I still don’t know whether I like him or not. Of course he was very kind to give me such a lovely parasol, and I am very, very grateful to him for rescuing Benjy but there is something peculier about him all the same. However, the most exciting thing is that he took real live photographs of us all in the open air! Papa said this was his Great Surprise although I thought it was Mr Jameson’s surprise really. That was why Papa wanted Benjy to come with us, so the Whole Family could be recorded for posterety (I am not sure of the spelling of this). We all had to sit on the ground close to each other except Emma, Annie and Enid (who are not our family) and Mr Jameson took his photograph apperatus out of the canvas bag and set up the camera on three wooden legs which unfolded outwards in a very neat way. Then he made a kind of tent with the canvas bag and laid out all sorts of bottles and dishes inside it and took out the glass plates which he said would be used to make the pictures. They are called ‘wet-plates’. Then he told us to keep very still while he put his head under a large back cloth and looked at us through the camera while we all waited for what seemed like ages! And then he lifted out the plates and crawled back into his tent and clinked about with the bottles and trays of liquid before coming back and saying everything was fine and now he would take a photograph of Mama.

  When he’d finished that (which took a long time as it is very complicated), he took a photograph of my sisters and then he said he’d like a photograph of the Little Fairies too – by which he meant just me and my friends (as Christiana and Sarah are too grown up to be fairies). And he asked us to lift our dresses up at the sides and pretend we were dancing in a circle except we couldn’t move but had to be like statues. My arms started to ache after a while and Annie was going to laugh which she had been told expressly that she must not, but luckily Mr Jameson said he had finished and we were able to move again. We all wanted to put our heads into the tent to see the pictures, but Mr Jameson said he had to print them first and he would do that in his room later which was disappointing, and we all asked him to do it as quickly as he could as we were all impatient to see them!

  Papa then said we needed to take some healthy exercise and Mr Jameson said we must have a corkus race (I don’t know how to spell this either and I am not really sure what it is). He said that he had brought prizes for us all whether we won or not which Christiana said was unfair but Mr Jameson said was the fairest of all as no one was left out. So we all climbed up the bank until we came to where it was flat, except for Mr Jameson who was still putting his camera and tent things away, and Nettie was clearing away the picnic things with Benjy beside her.

  We were just lining up when we heard Nettie screaming at the top of her voice and we looked back down to the river – and there was Mr Jameson up to his knees in water, and Benjy in his arms all brown and dripping as if he was made of mud. We all rushed down as fast as we could but Mama got there before anyone else. And she held him very tight even though he was dripping mud all down her nice dress. ‘Thank God he’s breathing,’ she said. And ‘Thank God for you, Mr Jameson.’ And then Papa slapped Benjy on the back to make him cough. And all the time Nettie was standing with her hand at her mouth, and Papa glared at her, saying why wasn’t she watching the child when that was what she was paid to do and didn’t she understand that Benjy might have drowned? And Nettie just burst into tears and said that the last time she’d seen him he’d been sitting quiet beside the picnic box and she didn’t know how he could have crawled that far without her seeing. And Mama said, ‘He did though, didn’t he?’

  Of course we couldn’t go on with the games after that as Mama said she needed Dr Lawrence to look at Benjy straight away to make sure he hadn’t got a chill or something worse from the river water. Papa said he would see if anyone at the house near by had a horse and cart or anything that would take Mama and Benjy back to Oxford quickly. And a footman in a long silk coat answered the door and said there was a convayance which he was sure the lady of the house would let us borrow, and she did very kindly, and Mama and Christiana went together with Benjy in an old barouche with the footman driving.

  The rest of us packed up everything and got back into the punts as quickly as we could, although I felt sorry that everything was ending so quickly and Papa was
cross with me saying I was dawdling and holding everyone up. Mr Jameson was wet up to his knees and elbows but said not to worry as he would soon be dry if he recited Cicero to himself which was by far the driest thing he knew. Papa gave a little smile, then. But he wouldn’t smile at anyone else and wouldn’t speak to Nettie at all, and made her sit in Mr Jameson’s punt with me and Enid, and he put Annie and Emma into Nettie’s old place. Nettie sat next to me and she was very quiet all the way back, and then just before we got to the landing stage, she started to cry and said that she wasn’t surprised that things had gone wrong because of People opening Parasols inside the house which everyone knows is bad luck. I was struck to the heart to think everything might be my fault for Tempting Fate (what Miss Prentiss calls Nemesis and it means a punishment that comes back to you later), but Mr Jameson said that was all supersticious nonsense and he’d have no more of it, and Nettie looked more downcast than ever. I squeezed her arm and told her she mustn’t worry and that everything would come out in the wash. This is her favourite saying if I am cross or upset about anything, but she didn’t seem to take it to heart herself.

  When we got home Dr Lawrence was already here but Benjy wouldn’t stop crying. The doctor said he was quite well and no bones broken, but had had a shock and we needed to keep an eye on him over the night-time. Papa didn’t want Benjy to be left with Nettie any more, but Dr Lawrence could see that Nettie was the only one who could settle him. So Benjy slept with us in the nursery as usual, but there was a lot of bustle with Mama and Papa both coming to say goodnight to him and Christiana and Sarah hanging over him and singing lullabies, which they have never done before although they have singing lessons and very pretty voices. Benjy knew that something strange was going on and he was ever so fretful. Nettie just sat in a corner until they were all gone, and then she picked him up and rocked him and he went quiet. Then I undressed and had some bread-and-butter and milk and wrote the first bit in my diary but Nettie said I must stop and say my prayers and go to bed, as we were both dog tired (although I am not sure why a dog is particularly tired). I didn’t feel I could truthfully thank God for the picnic because Benjy had nearly drowned, but I thanked Him instead that Mr Jameson had been there and had saved Benjy’s life. And I asked God to forgive Nettie as she had so many things to do and generally she loved Benjy like a mother. And I asked Him to forgive me for being vain and opening the parasol when I shouldn’t have. And Nettie patted me on the shoulder and said I was a good girl and she was sorry she mentioned the parasol but she was overought and it was not my fault in any way. Then she kissed me and put out the candle. I could hear her rustling about getting undressed and she seemed to take a long time about it. Then I thought I heard her go and stand over Benjy’s cot for even longer, though he was fast asleep. DEB.

  I put down the journal, an awful sadness in my heart. Of course, I’d had no idea, as I scribbled away, what was in store for poor Nettie. I knew that my parents were angry, but the full impact of her transgression hadn’t come home to me. I thought she’d be given some kind of scolding and that would be that. And Nettie, as she calmly went about her usual tasks, gave me no clue as to what was about to happen.

  I was a little surprised, therefore, when Hannah came to take Benjy down to see Mama in the drawing room before church. This was unusual; and I recall now how Nettie was loath to let him go, fussing far more than usual about his clothes and his hair and giving him extra kisses. ‘Bye-bye, my darling,’ she said as Hannah bore him away and, although I sensed something different in her voice, I was preoccupied with finding a safe place to keep my journal, and I took no notice. Then Nettie tidied her hair and settled her apron and cap and said she had to go down to speak with Papa as she was ‘on the carpet’. She gave me an odd little smile. ‘I shan’t be long,’ she said.

  I spent the intervening time idly admiring my parasol, although I didn’t dare open it again in case it brought even worse luck. After about ten minutes, I heard Nettie coming back up the stairs, and I put the parasol down quickly. I thought I heard her crying, but the sound stopped once she got to the door. When she came in she was wiping her eyes with her pocket-handkerchief and trying to look businesslike.

  ‘What’s the matter, Nettie?’ Suddenly I knew something serious had occurred.

  ‘I’m to go, Miss Daisy,’ she said flatly.

  ‘Go?’ I stared at her blankly. ‘Go where?’

  ‘Your ma and pa don’t feel I am fit to look after Benjy and I can’t say as I blame them.’ Then she started to cry. ‘It don’t bear thinking about – what would have happened if Mr Jameson had not been there. Oh, Daisy, he might have drowned as easy as winking – and I might be up on a murder charge! I thank the Good Lord it’s no worse. Your mother is giving me a good reference as I’ve been reliable for twelve years, but she says under the circumstances it would always be between us and she could never trust me again.’

  ‘But you’ve always looked after him,’ I said incredulously. ‘I shall tell Papa and Mama that you have to stay.’ I got up, ready to do battle, enraged on Nettie’s behalf and more than a little fearful on my own. I couldn’t imagine life without Nettie.

  She caught my arm. ‘Now, Miss Daisy, you are a dear girl, the best ever, but things is better left as they are. I’m sorry to leave you so sudden but you’re getting a bit old for a nursemaid now and I expect you’ll manage fine without me. You’ll be a proper little lady like your sisters before you know it. And I’m sure Benjy will get to like his new nurse as quick as anything.’ She turned away, and I knew she was crying some more and didn’t want me to see. ‘Now get your clothes on for church,’ she said in a muffled voice, ‘or I will be in trouble for that, too.’

  ‘Aren’t you going to help me dress?’

  ‘Sorry, Miss Daisy, I’m to pack straight away.’

  ‘Aren’t you even coming to church?’ Papa was strict about everyone attending even if they had a cold or headache and I could not imagine he would excuse Nettie now.

  ‘I have to pack, Daisy. I told you, I have to go.’

  ‘What, today?’ I couldn’t believe that Nettie, whom I had known all my life, was to depart with such awful suddenness. ‘But who will look after me?’

  ‘Like I said, you’re old enough to manage on your own. Hannah will help you with your hair I expect, and you can pretty much do everything else for yourself; and what you can’t do you must learn.’ Nettie pulled her old portmanteau from under her bed and started to open the drawers of the wardrobe and remove neat piles of white linen which she put inside the bag with a good deal of steady attention, as if she was doing arithmetic in her head.

  ‘But you’ll still come back and see me, won’t you?’ I felt a terrible numbness descend. It was like the world coming to an end.

  ‘Better not,’ she said, at the wardrobe again, with her back to me. ‘Your ma says a clean break is the best. And I expect I’ll have my time cut out with the new children I’ll be looking after, especially if I have to go to London for a position. I couldn’t keep popping back to ask after you every five minutes.’

  The idea of Nettie with some other children cut me to the quick; especially the notion that she might enjoy herself with them so much that she couldn’t be bothered to see me. ‘Don’t you love me any more, Nettie?’ I cried, my voice thick with grief.

  She turned to me, and the face that I’d thought was so familiar to me seemed that of a stranger. The way her face was puffy and the tears were rolling uncontrollably down her cheeks made her look so different from the Nettie I knew.

  ‘Oh, Miss Daisy,’ she cried, putting down a pile of linen. ‘I love you more than anything. Don’t you know that? And Benjy’s like my very own child. I always knew I’d have to go one day and leave you all behind – but never like this. Never like this. It’s too cruel!’ She gave out a kind of howl and opened her arms and I howled too and ran to her and breathed in her warm, biscuity smell and felt the scratch of her starched apron against my cheek.

  ‘I w
on’t let you go!’ I said, hugging her as hard as I could. ‘I’ll hold on to you so tight they won’t be able to separate us, and you’ll have to take me with you wherever you go.’

  She laughed through her tears. ‘My, that would be a bit of an inconvenience – me carrying you round my waist like an extra apron and you clinging on for dear life! We’d never get as far as the bottom of the street like that.’ She took her work-worn thumb and wiped my tears outwards, one side after the other, so that I felt them roll wetly by my ears and down my neck. ‘You have to be brave. We both have to be brave. Things is painful sometimes. We can’t do or have what we want all the time. It’s part of growing up.’

  ‘Then I don’t want to grow up,’ I retorted, hugging her tighter than ever.

  ‘We all have to,’ she said. ‘It’s the way of life. You can’t be a child for ever. Now get your Sunday clothes on and show me how well you can dress yourself.’

  ‘If I make a mess of it, will they let you stay?’

  ‘I don’t think so, Miss Daisy.’

  ‘Why not?’ I cried out.

  ‘Because I’ve been paid a month in lieu of notice and I’ve agreed to go. Them’s the rules,’ she said, trying to disentangle my arms from around her back.

  ‘Whose rules?’ I said.

  She seemed a bit flummoxed by this. ‘The rules of England, I suppose – what everybody agrees to in order to make the world go round smoothly.’

  ‘But it’s not going round smoothly for you!’ I cried angrily. ‘Or for me! I think they’re silly rules!’

  ‘Look, Daisy,’ she said. ‘Life is a good deal more complicated than it seems when you’re eleven. But you know I love you and I know you love me, and we’ll always know that, won’t we? Won’t we?’ She made me look her in the face, and I began sobbing anew. ‘And if you don’t get ready for church, you’ll only make it worse for yourself – and me. You know how your papa can’t bear anyone to be late and he’s cross enough already.’