Ivy Compton-Burnett - The Present and the Past

‘Two mothers should be sufficient for any day,’ said Flavia, ‘when it is the usual provision for two lifetimes.’

‘Well, I can’t tell you which to like the better, my boy,’ said Cassius, relinquishing his son. ‘Not even Father can do that. Just love them in different ways; that is my advice.’

‘You love Mater better,’ said Catherine, in a low tone. ‘Because she is the mother you know. Because she will always be the mother you knew first.’

‘Yes, I do now. But perhaps I shall get to know you.’

‘Take each day as it comes,’ said his father again. ‘That is the only thing.’

‘Guy could never do that,’ said Fabian.

‘And neither could I,’ said Flavia. ‘Life is not a matter of days. Each one is a part of the whole.’

‘Well, everyone knows that,’ said her husband. ‘Why state such a thing as if it were a philosophic truth?’

‘The separate days, rooted in the past, carrying the future,’ said Catherine, as if to herself.

Guy looked again from her to Flavia, and the latter caught his eye and gave him a smile. He relaxed with a sigh, and Catherine saw the interplay and smiled from one to the other.

‘Well, it seems a happy occasion enough,’ said Cassius, with his eyes on them. ‘I don’t see anything sad or sinister about it. Does anyone? Do you, Fabian?’

‘No, but I think it ought to have a description of its own.’

‘Well, how would you describe it?’

‘Well, it is one I have always imagined. And it does what we wanted for us. We are getting to know…’

‘Mother,’ said Flavia, in a full, kind tone. ‘That is what you will call her. It is what you called her from the first. That is why I was called “Mater”, if you remember.’

‘We do remember, my dear,’ said Cassius. ‘And it has become a title of honour for you. We all recognize it.’

‘Is it better to be called “Mother” than “Mater”?’ said Guy.

‘Which would you choose?’ said his stepmother.

‘Well, “they both mean the same thing. I think “Mater”.’

‘That has the meaning for him,’ said Catherine.

‘Which would be your choice, Fabian?’ said his father.

‘It would depend on what was the custom. It is that that makes the difference.’

‘Yes, it is that,’ said Catherine.

‘But your sacrifice is not wasted, Flavia,’ said Cassius, loudly. ‘No honest sacrifice ever is. It has its own meaning for you, and so for other people.’

‘I doubt if the one follows from the other. It seems to me that it may be wasted. But it was not very great.’

‘But it was nagging and insistent,’ said Cassius, in a tone that seemed to fit his words. ‘Striking you where it made you shrink and shiver, at every turn! But it won you your husband’s gratitude.’

‘Fabian remembered his mother. Some decision had to be made. I daresay it was the right one.’

‘It was, my dear, it was; the one that took no account of yourself. That is always the right one.’

‘I remember her now,’ said Fabian. ‘As she was when I first knew her, or as I thought she was.’

‘Well, well, the years have gone by since then,’ said Cassius. ‘Look at the difference they have made in you. They can’t pass over other people. They have not passed over your father.’

There were sounds outside the door of the approach of the younger children. After the interval necessary for Eliza to set Toby down and insist on his entrance, it opened to admit them. Henry and Megan, with an air of following directions, came up and shook hands with Catherine. Toby stood still and surveyed her.

‘Shake hands with Mrs Clare,’ said Cassius.

‘No,’ said his son.

‘Is she Mrs Clare?’ said Henry.

‘You heard what was said,’ said his grandfather.

‘I thought Mater was that.’

‘So now you know the whole, my boy.’

‘Father and Henry both “my boy”,’ said Toby.

‘Come, do what Father tells you,’ said Cassius.

‘How do you do?’ said Toby into space, making a movement of shaking hands.

There was some mirth, and he appeared to search his memory.

‘Quite well. Thank you. Fine day,’ he said, and turned and looked at Catherine.

‘Lady,’ he said, in a tone of suggestion, and turned away.

‘Ought he not to do as he is told?’ said Cassius.

‘He ought to be what he is,’ said Catherine.

‘Ah, you missed those stages in your children, Catherine. That is what you are thinking of. I can read your mind like a book. It lies open before me. But they have wanted for nothing. You could have done no more for them.’

‘I could have had more from them.’

‘Well, well, that can’t be helped now. You must just forget it.’

‘Forget it?’ said Catherine, just audibly.

‘Now they are older, they have more need of you.’

‘I have need of them. I must be on my guard.’

‘Well, let them speak for themselves. Now, Fabian, would you rather have one mother or two?’

‘I would have chosen always to have my own. But as things are, I see I want them both.’

‘And you, Guy?’ said his father.

‘He wants the mother he has always had. And he will always have her,’ said Catherine.

Guy suddenly rose and went to his stepmother and buried his face on her shoulder.

‘Well, it is natural, my boy,’ said Cassius. ‘And we honour you for having the feelings. And we honour you for being able to show them. It is a thing not given to us all. Well, Flavia, you do not come out of it with nothing.’

Guy was so far from honouring himself that he could not lift his face.

‘What relation is she to us?’ said Henry, indicating Catherine.

‘No relation, my boy. She is the elder boys’ mother.’

‘Why isn’t she our stepmother, if our mother is theirs?’

‘Mater has never been a stepmother to them. She has been a real mother.’

‘But I mean in a legal sense.’

‘Oh, you do, do you?’ said Cassius, glancing at Catherine. ‘So — you have come to that.’

‘It is not the same,’ said Megan. ‘Their mother isn’t Father’s wife. He can only have one at a time.’

‘Ah, they are a pair, Catherine. They write poems and do I don’t know what. I don’t know what to make of them sometimes. I can hardly believe they are my children.’

‘You said that Megan didn’t write the poem,’ said Henry. ‘So it does seem strange that she is your child.’

‘Oh, it does, does it? That is what you would say. And what about you? Are you the natural child for me?’

‘I don’t think I am. We are too different.’

‘And where does all this difference lie?’

‘Well, you don’t know the truth about things, and I have always known.’

‘Well, give me an example of all this truth. You cannot have seen so much.’

‘I have seen some today, though it is supposed to be a day of happiness. Fabian’s mother is here, and it makes him see he has never had her. And Guy doesn’t know which mother is really his.’

‘Oh, come, two mothers are enough for anyone. I think they are fortunate boys.’

‘Yes, that is what you would think.’

‘You can see her feeling the truth,’ said Megan. ‘I mean Fabian’s mother.’

‘Well, upon my word. This is what a parent has to face. You are fortunate to have missed some of it, Catherine.’

‘No, I am not fortunate.’

‘Well, no, I suppose you are not. But there are two sides to every question. And I don’t think you will have this sort of thing with Guy. He doesn’t seem so full of it somehow.’

‘You always say he is backward,’ said Megan.

‘Well, I am sure I ought to be glad of it. It is a fault on the right side. If I ever found any fault with it, I retract what I said. Give me a natural child.’