Ivy Compton-Burnett - The Present and the Past

‘Where are Fabian and Guy?’ said Flavia.

‘They wanted to talk by themselves. I think things have got worse for them.’

‘I am afraid they have. Their life is simple no longer.’

‘It seems best to have your own mother all the time, or not to have her at all,’ said Megan.

‘Having two takes all your thought,’ said Henry, ‘so that you don’t have any over for your own life.’

‘I am afraid you see the truth,’ said his mother.

‘Truth has to be seen, when it alters everything.’

‘Try and sight a favourable truth,’ said Mr Clare. ‘You should cultivate a sharper vision.’

‘I can’t think of one just now.’

‘So you liked the lady who came today,’ said Cassius to Toby. ‘But she likes Fabian and Guy better than you.’

‘Oh, yes, poor Guy! No, like Toby.’

‘Would you like to go and live with her?’

‘Yes.’

‘And leave Father and Mater and Bennet?’

‘Bennet come too. Bennet and Megan and Toby.’

‘And no one else?’

‘Only William,’ said Toby, getting off his father’s knee.

‘Would you like to leave us all, Henry?’ said Cassius.

‘Well, you would not mind if I did.’

‘What a thing to say! Of course I should mind. Father would not know what to do without his little son. Wouldn’t you mind leaving him a little?’

‘Well, then I should, or else it would be sad for you. And there wouldn’t be anywhere for me to go.’

‘And no one else would pay for our food,’ said Megan.

‘Well, that is a reason for staying,’ said her father, drily.

‘I suppose Fabian and Guy’s mother would pay for theirs,’ said Henry.

‘We do not talk about who pays for things,’ said Flavia.

‘Who would mind paying for Toby’s food?’ said Cassius, not bearing out his wife’s words.

‘Pay?’ said Toby, raising his eyes.

‘Give money for it.’

‘Bennet does,’ said Toby, with a clearing face. ‘In a shop. Then Toby eat it.’

‘What does Toby eat?’

‘Very nice bun. Henry and Megan and Toby.’

‘Does Toby have the biggest?’

‘Oh, no, dear little bun.’

‘Does William have a bun too?’

‘No, very nice beer.’

‘What do you like best to eat?’

‘Only bacon,’ said Toby.

‘Surely he does not have that?’ said Cassius.

‘He likes the smell of it,’ said Megan. ‘And he may have tasted it.’

‘Always eat bacon,’ said Toby.

‘You should say what is true,’ said his father. Tou know you do not have it to eat.’

‘No, not good for him, poor little boy!’

‘A child is a strange thing,’ said Cassius, as they were left alone.

‘It is a natural thing,’ said his wife. ‘That is why it strikes a civilized person as strange.’

‘Yes, well, I suppose one is a civilized person,’ said her husband, on a faintly gratified note, ‘though one does not think of oneself in that way. I suppose one’s training and background have done their work. Well, Flavia, what is your impression of Catherine, now you look back on her?’

‘I think it must still be based on yours. I have heard so much and seen so little, and seen that under strange conditions.’

‘Well, I can hardly tell you my impression,’ said her husband, leaning back and frowning, ‘though it sounds an odd thing for me to say. You see, I knew so much, or thought I did, but now that I see her, I am not so sure. And then I suddenly see I was right, and then I am in doubt again. So it is difficult to tell.’

‘It must be,’ said his wife.

‘That is why I wanted to know what you thought. You must think something. And I can see that you do.’

‘I should say she is an honest, deep-natured woman, but of a purpose so single that it blinds her to any claim but her own. But that might be true of many of us in her place. What she is in her life I have had no chance of judging.’

‘And upon my word I can’t tell you, though I lived with her for five years. More than half as long as I have lived with you, Flavia. And I feel I know you in and out, every corner and cranny of you. There is no question about you that I could not answer.’

‘I wonder which of them has the advantage,’ said Mr Clare.

‘Well, do you know, I think Catherine has. She is able to take cover under a veil of mystery, and never face the light of day, as Flavia does, and as I do myself in a way. I declare I should like to let in the light on her inner self and turn my eyes on it.’

‘We should fear to do that to anyone. And you took exception to her doing it to you.’

‘Well, so I did, and so I do, or so I should, if it happened again. But mine is an ordinary, everyday self enough. It is hers that baffles one and gives rise to all sorts of problems. My little poses would be the usual ones. It is her great, unpitying penetration that hits you in the face and tricks you into betraying what is hardly there. I declare I used to reveal things that I did ‘not know were in me or anyone. She used to open up a new, dark world to me. Her seeming to read my mind never resulted in my thinking more of her. Oh, it was an experience, I can tell you, living with her for five years. I have never been the same man since. You have never known me as I was, Flavia, and that has been hard on you as well as on me. Oh, people like Catherine do their own harm, in spite of their lofty stand. And she could not do with me. Oh, no, I was too ordinary and commonplace for her. And the world had to know that. She could not keep it to herself. She had to leave me because of it. Is it any wonder that I imposed conditions on my own behalf? And yet I feel her influence and that odd sort of compelling force. It is a strange thing. Well, I don’t know when I have had an outbreak like this. Do you remember my having one, Flavia? The past was somehow too much for me. It rose up and overwhelmed me. I did not foresee this result of having Catherine in the house.’

‘The past would be too much for any of us, if it did not stay in its place,’ said Mr Clare.

‘And now the future looms before us with all sorts of threats and doubts. Shall we ever be through it?’

‘When we are through everything. But keep your thoughts away from it. You find the present enough.’

‘Of course I do, and so do you, and so does everyone.’

‘Well, it is enough,’ said Mr Clare.

‘Well, what is the news, Mr Ainger?’ said Madge.

Ainger crossed the kitchen with a slow tread and his eyes on the ground, and paused with his hand on his chair before he took his seat.

‘News?’ he said, raising his eyes.

‘Yes. What is there to tell?’

‘There is nothing that asks to be told, Madge.’

‘We have suffered a sense of anticipation,’ said Kate.

‘It pleases him to keep things to himself,’ said Halliday.

‘I don’t think thought of self has entered in,’ said Ainger, drawing in his brows. ‘There are cases where it does not.’

‘Are there?’ said Mrs Frost.

‘Was it for nothing that Simon was excluded from the dining-room?’ said Ainger, with more force. ‘Was it an indication or was it not?’

‘We hope it was,’ said Madge. ‘What did it indicate?’

‘That things were not for eyes and ears, except in cases.’

‘So did nothing happen?’ said Halliday.

‘Happen?’ said Ainger, turning fully to him. ‘You would not expect incidents to take place?’

‘I think we half expected it,’ said Kate. ‘Things might have given rise.’

‘The gentry are themselves,’ said Ainger, ‘as you are aware.’

‘So I was,’ said Mrs Frost.

‘Human beings like all of us,’ said Halliday.