get there to-night we must go right on. Lunch in Okehampton. A policeman ….
7. A Windfall
Gerry Siddal’s boils were always worse when he was at home. They afflicted him as they afflicted Job; they were the stigmata of a patience tried to its utmost limits.
He was an affectionate creature. He loved his mother, and he had only very recently left off loving his father.He was fond of his brothers. But things at Pendizack had got to such a point that he would do anything, invent any job, to avoid his family at meal times. With each of them separately he could still get on very well, but he could no longer bear them as a group.
So he tinkered with the electric light machine until he could be sure that breakfast was safely over and his father back in the boot hole. Then he went into the kitchen and ate congealed porridge while his mother cut the Paleys’ sandwiches. To his astonishment she gave him all the cream which she had been saving for Lady Gifford. She was suffering from one of her spasmodic fits of remorse.
‘You need more fats,’ she declared. ‘I’m sure that’s why you get those spots. I’m determined to do something about it. Darling … are you going over to Porthmerryn this morning?
‘I could, if you want anything got there.’
‘I’ve a list of things…. I don’t know if I’ll have time … but before you go, will you help Nancibel to put up those extra beds in Mrs. Cove’s room?’
‘I do hope you’ll be firm with Mrs. Cove,’ said Gerry. ‘It’s quite obvious from her Jetter that she expects you to make a reduction because they all sleep in one room.’
‘Well … if the children are quite small….’
‘You’ll make a reduction, anyway. You mustn’t come down further.’
‘She seems to be so terribly hard-up. She won’t have a car ordered, and said they’d wait for the station bus.’
‘So are we terribly hard-up. She doesn’t have to come here.’
‘I’m glad to get her. We’ve no other bookings.’
‘I know. But there’s always the chance of a windfall, now that the Porthmerryn hotels are so full. People who can’t get in there …’
‘That isn’t the type I want. Not like those awful Bergmans. I want nice quiet people I know something about.’
She began to wrap up the sandwiches and Gerry took his dishes into the scullery so as to save Nancibel the trouble of collecting them. She was there, washing-up, and she thanked him with her warm, sweet smile. He yearned for warmth and sweetness, but he would never have dreamt of looking for them in his mother’s scullery so he continued to plod his anguished way through a world which offered him none. He put up the extra beds in the big attic, collected the list of errands in Porthmerryn , and started the steep climb up the drive.
At the second turn of the zigzag road he met a tall thin woman coming down who asked him timidly if this was the way to the hotel.
‘Pendizack Manor?’ he said. ‘Yes. Can I help you? It’s my mother’s hotel.’
She hesitated and murmured:
‘Oh well … perhaps I’d better … I only wanted … I wasn’t sure … they said there might be rooms….’
‘Did you want rooms?’
‘Oh yes … that is … I don’t suppose … I thought I’d walk down just on the chance … but of course I quite understand….’
‘How many rooms?’
To answer this was quite beyond her. Indeed, all direct questions appeared to fill her with panic. He began to wonder if she was entirely sane, for she trembled a little as she spoke and would never look at him. She kept her eyes averted and her head ducked a trifle sideways , a symptom which he had observed in lunatics.
‘I’ll take you down to see my mother,’ he suggested at last.
At this she rallied and gave him a quick glance. Her eyes were beautiful, but a little mad.
‘Oh …’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
They started back down the drive, and Gerry adopted an indirect method of getting information.
‘We have three rooms vacant
7. A Windfall
Gerry Siddal’s boils were always worse when he was at home. They afflicted him as they afflicted Job; they were the stigmata of a patience tried to its utmost limits.
He was an affectionate creature. He loved his mother, and he had only very recently left off loving his father.He was fond of his brothers. But things at Pendizack had got to such a point that he would do anything, invent any job, to avoid his family at meal times. With each of them separately he could still get on very well, but he could no longer bear them as a group.
So he tinkered with the electric light machine until he could be sure that breakfast was safely over and his father back in the boot hole. Then he went into the kitchen and ate congealed porridge while his mother cut the Paleys’ sandwiches. To his astonishment she gave him all the cream which she had been saving for Lady Gifford. She was suffering from one of her spasmodic fits of remorse.
‘You need more fats,’ she declared. ‘I’m sure that’s why you get those spots. I’m determined to do something about it. Darling … are you going over to Porthmerryn this morning?
‘I could, if you want anything got there.’
‘I’ve a list of things…. I don’t know if I’ll have time … but before you go, will you help Nancibel to put up those extra beds in Mrs. Cove’s room?’
‘I do hope you’ll be firm with Mrs. Cove,’ said Gerry. ‘It’s quite obvious from her Jetter that she expects you to make a reduction because they all sleep in one room.’
‘Well … if the children are quite small….’
‘You’ll make a reduction, anyway. You mustn’t come down further.’
‘She seems to be so terribly hard-up. She won’t have a car ordered, and said they’d wait for the station bus.’
‘So are we terribly hard-up. She doesn’t have to come here.’
‘I’m glad to get her. We’ve no other bookings.’
‘I know. But there’s always the chance of a windfall, now that the Porthmerryn hotels are so full. People who can’t get in there …’
‘That isn’t the type I want. Not like those awful Bergmans. I want nice quiet people I know something about.’
She began to wrap up the sandwiches and Gerry took his dishes into the scullery so as to save Nancibel the trouble of collecting them. She was there, washing-up, and she thanked him with her warm, sweet smile. He yearned for warmth and sweetness, but he would never have dreamt of looking for them in his mother’s scullery so he continued to plod his anguished way through a world which offered him none. He put up the extra beds in the big attic, collected the list of errands in Porthmerryn , and started the steep climb up the drive.
At the second turn of the zigzag road he met a tall thin woman coming down who asked him timidly if this was the way to the hotel.
‘Pendizack Manor?’ he said. ‘Yes. Can I help you? It’s my mother’s hotel.’
She hesitated and murmured:
‘Oh well … perhaps I’d better … I only wanted … I wasn’t sure … they said there might be rooms….’
‘Did you want rooms?’
‘Oh yes … that is … I don’t suppose … I thought I’d walk down just on the chance … but of course I quite understand….’
‘How many rooms?’
To answer this was quite beyond her. Indeed, all direct questions appeared to fill her with panic. He began to wonder if she was entirely sane, for she trembled a little as she spoke and would never look at him. She kept her eyes averted and her head ducked a trifle sideways , a symptom which he had observed in lunatics.
‘I’ll take you down to see my mother,’ he suggested at last.
At this she rallied and gave him a quick glance. Her eyes were beautiful, but a little mad.
‘Oh …’ she said. ‘Thank you.’
They started back down the drive, and Gerry adopted an indirect method of getting information.
‘We have three rooms vacant
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