Loving

'Study what?' Bert said, bolder by his tot now the glass he held was empty.

'All right. You've never seen those books then. That's all I wanted. But I ask you look at the clock. I'm going to get the old head down, it's me siesta. And don't forget to give us a call sharp on four thirty. You can't be trusted yet to lay the tea. Listen though. If that front door rings it will likely be the doctor. He's expected. Show him straight in,' Raunce said, pointing with his thumb into the door agape. He made off.

'What about Miss Burch?' the boy called.

'Shall I call her?' he shouted, desperate.

Raunce must have heard, but he gave no answer. Left alone young Albert began to shake.

In the morning room two days later Raunce stood before Mrs Tennant and showed part of his back to Violet her daughter-in-law.

'Might I speak to you for a moment Madam?'

'Yes Arthur what is it?'

'I'm sure I would not want to cause any inconvenience but I desire to give in my notice.'

She could not see Violet because he was in the way. So she glared at the last button but one of his waistcoat, on a level with her daughter-in-law's head behind him. He had been standing with arms loose at his sides and now a hand came uncertainly to find if he was done up and having found dropped back.

'What Arthur?' she asked. She seemed exasperated. 'Just when I'm like this when this has happened to Eldon?'

'The place won't be the same without him Madam.'

'Surely that's not a reason. Well never mind. I daresay not but I simply can't run to another butler.'

'No Madam.'

'Things are not what they used to be you know. It's the war. And then there's taxation and everything. You must understand that.'

'I'm sure I have always tried to give every satisfaction Madam,' he replied.

At this she picked up a newspaper. She put it down again. She got to her feet. She walked over to one of six tall french windows with gothic arches. 'Violet,' she said, 'I can't imagine what Michael thinks he is about with the grass court darling. Even from where I am I can see plantains like the tops of palm trees.'

Her daughter-in-law's silence seemed to imply that all effort was to butt one's head against wire netting. Charley stood firm. Mrs T. turned. With her back to the light he could not see her mouth and nose.

'Very well then,' she announced, 'I suppose we shall have to call you Raunce.'

'Thank you Madam.'

'Think it over will you?' She was smiling. 'Mind I've said nothing about more wages.' She dropped her eyes and in so doing she deepened her forehead on which once each month a hundred miles away in Dublin her white hair was washed in blue and waved and curled. She moved over to another table. She pushed the ashtray with one long lacquered oyster nail across the black slab of polished marble supported by a dolphin layered in gold. Then she added as though confidentially, 'I feel we should all hang together in these detestable times.'

'Yes Madam.'

'We're really in enemy country here you know. We simply must keep things up. With my boy away at the war. Just go and think it over.'

'Yes Madam.'

'We know we can rely on you you know Arthur.'

'Thank you Madam.'

'Then don't let me hear any more of this nonsense. Oh and I can't find one of my gloves I use for gardening. I can't find it anywhere.'

'I will make enquiries. Very good Madam.'

He shut the great door after. He almost swung his arms, he might have been said to step out for the thirty yards he had to go along that soft passage to the green baize door. Then he stopped. In one of the malachite vases, filled with daffodils, which stood on tall pedestals of gold naked male children without wings, he had seen a withered trumpet. He cut off the head with a pair of nail clippers. He carried this head away in cupped hand from above thick pile carpet in black and white squares through onto linoleum which was bordered with a purple key pattern on white until, when he had shut that green door to open his kingdom, he punted the daffodil ahead like a rugger ball. It fell limp on the oiled parquet a yard beyond his pointed shoes.

He was kicking this flower into his pantry not more than thirty inches at a time when Miss Burch with no warning opened and came out of Mr Eldon's death chamber. She was snuffling. He picked it up off the floor quick. He said friendly, 'The stink of flowers always makes my eyes run.'

'And when may daffodils have had a perfume,' she asked, tart through tears.

'I seem to recollect they had a smell once,' he said.

'You're referring to musk, oh dear,' she answered making off, tearful. But apparently he could not leave it alone.

'Then what about hay fever?' he almost shouted. That never comes with hay, or does it? There was a lady once at a place where I worked,' and then he stopped. Miss Burch had moved out of earshot. 'Well if you won't pay heed I can't force you,' he said out loud. He shut Mr Eldon's door, then stood with his back to it. He spoke to Bert.

'What time's the interment?' he asked. 'And how long to go before dinner?' not waiting for answers. 'See here my lad I've got something that needs must be attended to you know where.' He jangled keys in his pocket. Then instead of entering Mr Eldon's room he walked away to dispose of the daffodil in a bucket. He coughed. He came back again. 'All right,' he said, 'give us a whistle if one of 'em shows up.'

He slipped inside like an eel into its drainpipe. He closed the door so that Bert could not see. Within all was immeasurable stillness with the mass of daffodils on the bed. He stood face averted then hurried smooth and his quietest to the roll-top desk. He held his breath. He had the top left-hand drawer open. He breathed again. And then Bert whistled.

Raunce snatched at those red and black notebooks. He had them. He put them away in a hip pocket. They fitted. 'Close that drawer,' he said aloud. He did this. He fairly scrambled out again. He shut the door after, leaving all immeasurably still within. He stood with his back to it, taking out a handkerchief, and looked about.

He saw Edith. She was just inside the pantry where Bert watched him open mouthed. Raunce eyed her very sharp. He seemed to appraise the dark eyes she sported which were warm and yet caught the light like plums dipped in cold water. He stayed absolutely quiet. At last she said quite calm, 'Would the dinner bell have gone yet?'

'My dinner,' he cried obviously putting on an act, 'holy smoke is it as late as that, and this lad of mine not taken up the nursery tray yet. Get going,' he said to Bert, 'look sharp.' The boy rushed out. 'God forgive me,' he remarked, 'but there's times I want to liquidate 'im. Come to father beautiful,' he said.

'Not me,' she replied amused.

'Well if you don't want I'm not one to insist. But did nobody never tell you about yourself?'

'Aren't you just awful,' she said apparently delighted.

'That's as may be,' he answered, 'but it's you we're speaking of. With those eyes you ought to be in pictures.'

'Oh yeah?'

'Come on,' he said, 'if we're going to be lucky with our dinner we'd best be going for it.'

'No, you don't,' she said slipping before him. And they came out through this pantry into the long high stone passage with a vaulted ceiling which led to the kitchen and their servants' hall.

'Now steady,' he said, as he caught up with her. 'What will Miss Burch say if she finds us chasing one after the other?' When they were walking side by side he asked, 'What made you come through my way to dinner?'

'Why you do need to know a lot,' she said.

'I know all I can my girl and that's never done me harm. I got other things to think to besides love and kisses, did you know?'

'No I didn't, not from the way you go on I didn't.'

The trouble with you girls is you take everything so solemn. Now all I was asking was why you looked in on us while you came down to dinner?'

Thinkin' I came to see you I suppose,' she said. She turned to look at him. What she saw made her giggle mouth open and almost soundless. Then she slapped a hand across her teeth and ran on ahead. He took no notice. With a swirl of the coloured skirt of her uniform she turned a corner in front along this high endless corridor. The tap of her shoes faded. He walked on. He appeared to be thinking. He went so soft he might have been a ghost without a head. But as he made his way he repeated to himself, over and over, This time I'll take his old chair. I must.'