Don Gutteridge - Desperate Acts

“I don’t see – ”

“On the sofa. Dead to the world,” the maidsaid without a hint of disgust or reproval. “She may wake up, an’then again maybe she won’t.”

Before Beth could inquire further, the womanhad departed and could be heard tramping down the hall. As her eyesadjusted to the gloom, Beth could indeed make out the form ofClemmy Crenshaw comatose on the sofa, attired only in a tattydressing-gown, and snoring softly. Beth laid the costume down on anearby chair, and was about to retreat when she was stopped by thesound of Clemmy’s voice behind her: “Is that you, Mrs.Edwards?”

Beth turned. “I brought your dress, ma’am.You can try it on when you’re feelin’ better.”

Clemmy rose groggily onto one elbow. Herunpainted face was blotched and puckered. The pouches below hereyes were blackened by fatigue, and the eyes themselves werebloodshot, their dark pupils dilated. “I told Mabel we was to havetea. Where’n hell did she get to?”

“I’ll go an’ see what I can rustle up,” Bethsaid, her concern for Clemmy’s condition evident. After two wrongturns, she found the kitchen and an ancient cook who was justpouring herself a cup of tea from a cracked crockery-pot.

“I think yer mistress is in need of that,”Beth said sweetly, but for her pains got a grunt in return.However, two mugs of sugared tea were soon plunked on a trayalongside a plate of tired biscuits.

Beth thanked the cook and returned to Clemmywith the refreshments.

“Oh, Mrs. Edwards,” Clemmy said from hersitting position on the sofa, “you are a most kindwoman.”

***

The tea seemed to give Clemmy enough energy to letBeth wriggle her into Hermia’s frock and pronounce it a successfulfit. But the costume had no sooner been removed than Clemmy’sweight went slack against Beth, who dropped the garment and reachedfor the nearest forearm. With great difficulty, a hundred-poundBeth wrestled the unconscious and much heavier woman over to thesofa and lowered her as gently as she could onto the cushions.Clemmy slumped onto her back with eyes closed, jaw slack, and mouthagape.

Beth retrieved a woollen afghan from the backof one of the chairs and placed it over Clemmy’s lumpish form, nowclad only in a cotton slip. Then she leaned over to check herbreathing. To her surprise, though the eyes remained shut, Clemmybegan to speak, not in her customary high-pitched voice, but lowand murmuring.

“We’re just as good as they are, ain’t we? Wewasn’t born with silver spoons in our mouths. Cyrus an’ me workedfer everythin’ we got, ten times over. We didn’t have time fer alot of fancy schoolin’ – ”

“It’s all right, Clemmy. You don’t have tospeak. I understand. An’ you need to rest now. You got a rehearsaltonight an’ – ”

“But we made it, didn’t we? Own a factory . .. servants . . . nobody thought we’d do it . . . showed ‘em, didn’twe, Cy? An’ you growin’ up with yer daddy dead like that . . .everybody talkin’ . . . not your fault yer daddy got shot ferrunnin’ away from that awful battle, was it? We made it anyways . .. we . . . we – ”

Beth drew the afghan up to Clemmy’s spittledchin, and watched the woman sink into a deep sleep. She wished shehad not heard what she had just been privy to. That was the sort ofsecret no stranger had a right to know. But Beth knew there was oneperson who should know it soon.

***

That afternoon the debate on the Union Bill and itsterms began in the Legislative Assembly. As if to illustrateGovernor Thomson’s point about the fractious confusions of colonialpolitics, the union clause itself was introduced in the lowerchamber by the Governor’s house leader, “Sweet William” Draper, hisSolicitor-General, who had serious reservations about the terms butwould eventually and reluctantly vote in favour. Seated beside him,however, was his cabinet colleague, Attorney-General Hagerman, whowould lead the right-wingers in an all-out attack on the bill.Indeed, the entire first day was consumed by lengthy andscenery-ripping diatribes from this hard-line cabal, even thoughits motley members would not necessarily break bread togetheroutside the Assembly. Ogle Gowan, Provincial Grand Master of theLoyal Orange Lodge, ranted against all things French andrepublican. Merrill Bannerman, speaking on behalf of BishopStrachan, fulminated against those godless democrats in their midstwho would seek to promote the profane cause of responsiblegovernment and the separation of church and state by any means -including a morganatic marriage with Quebec traitors. Other moreconventional Tories viewed the union proposal as a Radical-Whigplot hatched in London to dismantle the British Empire by cuttingthe colonies adrift from their anchorage in Church and Crown. TheReformers, lacking such grandiloquence, listened politely – andbided their time.

***

The arrival of Clemmy Crenshaw for the Tuesdayevening rehearsal caused a brief sensation: underneath hervoluminous coat she was discovered to be in full costume – aliving, breathing and very giddy Hermia! While this enthusiasm was,in the director’s eyes, preferable to her lethargic lurching andgarbled recitations, it had its downside. Not expecting Hermia tobe where she was supposed to be, Lysander, Demetrius and Helena(uncostumed) took turns bumping into her. In contrast, SirP.’s Puck was amazingly agile, as the plump baronet proved to be aslight on his feet as a slightly overweight ballerina. However, thewood-nymph costume he had chosen to don this evening – withdiaphanous wings and a drooping tail – did little to disguisePuck’s flabby belly and spindle-legs. So much so that every time hepirouetted or pointed, Clemmy Crenshaw, still giddy, emitted asnicker (then a “whoof” as she took her husband’s elbow in theribs). In the wings Cobb heard her say to him, “But I can’t helpit. He looks like a big, ugly bumblebee!”

Meanwhile, Cobb still had not become jaded bythe pantomimed caresses of the fair Titania, and particularlyenjoyed the participation of the four Wade children in the fairycostumes delivered to Oakwood Manor just hours before from Smallman’s. How pleased the little tykes were to pamper andpraise the fairy queen’s donkey-lover, and permit him to deliverhis best comic lines – despite the fact that his ass’s head was notto be had until Saturday. The only discordant note in thisotherwise harmonious “bower scene” was the fact that Lady Mad hadchosen this evening not to adorn the upper half of her perfumedbosom with a camouflaging scarf. As usual, Cobb’s alarm registeredmost dramatically in his nose, a development that prompted thefairies to giggle behind their wings and irritate their uncle. Whennot involved in his own scenes or absorbed in painting trees, Cobbkept an eye on Dutton and Lizzie, but caught them in directconversation only once – discussing the merits of the apple tart onoffer in the dining-room. More intriguing was the deliberate snuboffered to Lady Mad by Horace Fullarton when they almost collidedin the wings: a sure sign of something personal and complicatedbetween them. But what?

Cobb’s opportunity to search Sir P.’s bedroomfor definitive evidence of his cross-dressing came about nineo’clock when the director yelled at Peaseblossom and Mustardseedfor whispering off-stage, sending them into instant tears andbringing their aunt into the lists on their behalf. Harsh wordswere exchanged between the baronet and his lady, and the fouryoungest Wades were shunted off to their nanny. Sir P. called for ahalf-hour break, waved his cast towards the dining-room, andretired in a huff to his nearby den. Cobb, who had been paintingthe last of the trees on the last of the flats, muttered aloud thathe was out of green paint, shucked his smock, and walked slowlyinto the hallway that led to the Shuttleworth’s private quarters.No-one appeared to notice.