Laurie Graham - The Future Homemakers of America

‘What make of car would this be, then?’ she asked me. She’d been peering down into the foot-well. ‘So, that’s the go-faster pedal and that’s the go-slower pedal,’ she said. ‘I reckon as I could soon git the hang of that. But how does the juice make the wheels go round? That’s a mystery to me. And what’s this?’ She hit the horn. ‘Oh, beg your pardon,’ she said, laughing, and gave me another good look at her poor English teeth. ‘That’s enough to waken the dead,’ she said. ‘That’s enough to waken him indoors. STOP!’

I felt the tail slide a little and I heard Audrey’s head crack against her window.

‘See? You nearly went past,’ she said, real accusing. And there it was. Another sway-back house, hunkered down low, just like Gayle and Audrey’s billet out at Smeeth.

I said, ‘This your place, Kath?’

‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Your friend all right, in the back?’

Audrey said it was no more than a tap and her head was just fine, but Lois thought a little drink would be a good idea. Lois often did.

‘You could have delayed shock, Aud,’ she said. ‘Is there a bar, some place near? One of those thatched taverns?’

‘There’s the Flying Dutchman,’ she said. ‘You don’t want to go in there, though. That’s for men. I could make you a nice cuppa tea.’

Betty loved that idea. ‘Then we can keep Audrey under observation,’ she said. ‘Check she doesn’t have a concussion. And I would just adore to visit with a real English family.’

Lois said a Norfolk fen was the last place on earth she’d want to be with any kinda medical condition. She said she’d want to be right back where Uncle Sam’d take good care of her, but Betty was out of the car already, and Audrey wasn’t far behind.

‘Come on!’ she said. ‘It’ll be interesting. See how other people live. And, by the way, I do not have a concussion.’

Kath seemed kinda proud to be taking us home, like it was Sand-ringham Palace itself. Course, in those days she didn’t know what lovely homes American people had, and ignorance is bliss.

I’ve often thought, if that king hadn’t died when he did, I don’t suppose we’d ever have met Kath or gone driving up that frozen track. We’d just have stayed home and baked cookies, and then a whole lot of things would have turned out different.

‘John Pharaoh,’ she shouted, ‘we’ve got company. Come out here and see this fancy motor.’

We filed in, and Aud had to duck her head. Those ceilings were so low she nearly ended up with a concussion after all. It was dark inside. We pushed through a narrow passageway, old coats hanging on pegs.

‘Come on in,’ she said. ‘You’ll have to take us as you find us.’

I could see a wood-range, and a bed, with somebody on it, but my eyes were still getting accustomed to the gloom.

‘I seen the train,’ she said. ‘We give him a good send-off. Jim Jex was down there, said did you want a pup off of his fowling dog, I said no thank you, and these ladies kindly brought me home. They’re from Drampton, with the Yankee Air Force, and you should see the big fancy car they got, windows that go up and down and all sorts. Dear God, that smells like a old hoiley in here. John? You awake?’

First impression was, they only had one room. Later on, when I knew them better, I saw the place where he kept his eel traps. Another little room that could have been fixed up, for a bedroom or something, instead of them carrying on the way they did, sleeping in the kitchen.

That’s where he was, the first time we saw him, just getting up off the bed. Kath gave him the Juicy Fruit gum. She’d had it in her hand all the time, since Lois gave it to her.

‘Straighten that counterpane,’ she said, ‘we’ve got company.’

John Pharaoh was a good-looking devil. He wasn’t tall like Lois’s Herb or brawny, like Ed Gillis. He was soft-looking for a man, but there was something about him. Black curly hair. And a real winning smile. I guess it was the dimples. One of his eyes wasn’t quite right, though, and sometimes it gave him a crafty look, but it had a kinda awful fascination about it, drew you to keep looking at it. Then you felt sorry for staring at a person’s affliction.

He slid off the bed and he waved his fingers, like we were invited to sit down, only I couldn’t see where, there being just the one easy chair and that was occupied by a old yellow dog, size of a hog.

Kath was running around, still in her coat and her boots. She brought cups from a rack by the sink and extras from a cupboard, with saucers that didn’t match.

‘You’ll like these,’ she said to Betty. ‘Coronation saucers. King George the Fifth. A course, the cups have all gone west. Pull up a seat.’

There were three wooden chairs around the table, and my God, that room was cold. Either you stood close enough to the range to get scorched, or you froze. Betty gave me a brave little smile, this whole excursion being her idea after all. She was trying to show her appreciation, being a great believer in the importance of politeness, but there was one thing she did care more about than manners, and that was standards of hygiene, and I doubt those cups had ever seen hot water.

Kath made tea in big brown pot and pulled a woolly cover over it, so just the spout and the handle were free. There was no sugar, and the only milk she offered was Carnation, straight from the can.

I declined. Never did take to tea.

Kath said, ‘I can do you a Bovril?’ but I didn’t care for the sound of that neither. It made me realise Audrey was right. Travel gives you the opportunity to understand foreign ways of life. It can make a wiser person of you. And when I seen how those poor English lived, it made me want get down on my knees and give thanks for being born in God’s own country.

Kath brought out photos, from a drawer. They were faded and creased, but Betty loved them. Picture-postcards of some old king and queen, done up in their fancy orbs and sceptres.

Betty said, ‘Now, correct me if I’m wrong, Kath, but isn’t this Queen Mary?’

‘That’s right,’ Kath said. ‘She was Mary of Teck. And she was fixed up to marry one of the princes, but he dropped dead, so they passed her along to his next brother.’

I said, ‘That’s terrible. I wouldn’t have stood for that.’

Kath said, ‘Me neither. That’s like handing on a dead man’s trousers, still got a bit of wear left in them.’

‘Well,’ Betty said, ‘I guess you can’t let a princess go to waste.’

Lois was scratching the old dog behind its ears and slurping up that disgusting brew. ‘What I don’t understand,’ she said, ‘is why that king had to go outside for a smoke. No wonder he caught his death. What kind of milquetoast was he, didn’t just light up any place he chose? All he had to do was pass a edict or something.’

John Pharaoh seemed disposed to find everything Lois said highly amusing. There were some snapshots of poor folk, too. They all seemed to be kin to Kath’s friend May Gotobed, or some kinda relations to the Pharaohs themselves, only it was too complicated for me to follow. There was one of them standing with genuine princes, posing in front of a mountain of ducks they just helped shoot, but you had to be in the know to tell which ones were which. When they’re not wearing their crowns those princes just look like any ordinary Joe.

Audrey had asked for the bathroom and Kath had taken her, to show her the way, but Aud came back alone, beckoning me from the doorway to come and see something.

Kath was in the car, making believe she was driving. She was sitting at the wheel, window down, arm leaning out, making revving noises like she was barrelling down Route 66, next stop the Rio Grande. She laughed when she saw us watching her.