Alex, walking back from early service, was thinking about his study. It was splendid of Mrs Gage to clean it, she looked upon it as the same thing as giving money to the church, bless her, but he did wish she would choose some other charity. Of course he knew studies had to be turned out, but he thought it a little hard it had to be on a Saturday. Saturdays were such busy days for vicars. The parish workers came to do the flowers and clean the brass, and of course he had to look in and have a word with them. There were always babies to be christened on Sundays, and the fathers and mothers of the babies came to see him on Saturdays about that. Saturdays, because they were half-holidays for many, were the days when people called who wanted to see him about getting married, or other of their business. As well Saturdays were the days when he had to put the finishing touches to two sermons. Alex had made a rule for himself, which he tried very hard to stick to. It was not to let anybody know when he was feeling cross. So outside the vicarage he stopped. First he pulled back his shoulders, which were feeling rather saggish, because it was before breakfast. Then he gave himself a sort of mental slap to remind himself not to grouse. Then, feeling better, he opened the front door. Cathy was coming up the hall with the breakfast tray, she stopped to give him a kiss.
‘Hungry?’
Alex, almost over his bad mood, gave a pleased sniff.
‘Kippers?’
‘Yes. Everybody’s charmed except Esau. Sound the gong, Alex, darling.’
The family came cascading down the stairs. Paul carrying his books. Angus riding the banisters. Jane talking as she came.
‘Oh, Mummy, galosh galoosh! Look what a scrumdatious Saturday it is. Do you think pink could be useful?’
The family came cascading down the stairs
Mrs Gage, coming up the passage, gave Angus a gentle smack.
‘If I was your mother I’d take a slipper to you. The shorts aren’t made that would stand up to slidin’ on them like that.’
Ginnie rushed down the stairs and jumped the last four steps.
‘Do up my frock, Mrs Gage darling, while I finish plaiting my hair.’
Mrs Gage made pretence clicking disapproving sounds.
‘Late as usual, young Ginnie. Dragon for sleep you are.’
Ginnie never minded what Mrs Gage said.
‘I’m much nearer on time than I often am,’ then, hearing her father call, she shouted ‘Coming,’ and tore into the dining-room.
All meals in the vicarage started with grace. Alex knew that few other homes said grace, and that his children thought it was old-fashioned of him to say one, but he liked a grace said, and paid no attention to what his children thought.
‘For what we are about to receive may the Lord make us truly thankful.’
Alex had barely said the last word when Ginnie burst out:
‘Could Miss Virginia Bell be wrong in thinking she heard Miss Jane Bell ask if her new frock could be pink?’
Jane turned eagerly to Cathy.
‘Could pink ever be a useful colour, Mummy?’
Ginnie looked at Alex.
‘Would you stand up for me, Daddy? Would you make Jane remember that when she has a new frock it’s only hers to begin with, and will be mine in two years. I keep hoping I’ll get thinner as I get older, but I bulge more and more, and nobody who bulges looks nice in pink. My size is a cross I have to bear.’
Alex laughed.
‘Poor Miss Virginia Bell.’ Then he turned to Jane. ‘Is this the shopping day?’
Jane looked at Cathy.
‘I think it’s a cross we have to bear to have a father who’s so unworldly he doesn’t even remember the day when his child is going to have a new dress.’
Angus paused, with a spoon of cereal half-way to his mouth.
‘When caterpillars change into cocoons Paul says they don’t feel odd, but I think they do. I think they feel sort of surprised when they wake up and find that instead of being something that walks, with lots of legs, they’ve got wings instead, I mean I would.’
Alex poured some milk over his cereal.
‘Does this mean that there is now a butterfly in the menagerie?’
‘Was,’ said Paul, ‘we let it out of the window of course. I wish we had a yard. I’d like to keep some animals for diet experiments, rabbits, guinea pigs and so on. I think it would be interesting to feed them on all sorts of food they never ate before, and see how they get on.’
‘Like when we were at Uncle Jim’s?’ Ginnie asked. ‘And you cooked those toadstools instead of mushrooms?’
Paul remembered only too well, for he had been responsible.
‘By the book they were all right.’
‘That was the only time,’ said Angus reminiscently, ‘that I ever knew anybody could be sick fourteen times, without eating anything in between.’
Cathy, too, remembered only too well the day her children had picknicked on supposedly edible fungi.
‘Darlings, please not at breakfast. As a matter of fact, I don’t know why you want to remember it at all.’
‘We only did,’ Ginnie explained, ‘because Paul’s thinking of giving odd food to rabbits and guinea pigs, and we were standing up for them.’
Cathy looked affectionately at Paul.
‘You can’t become a doctor without having an inquiring mind, but that’s the last time you’re going to experiment on any of us.’
Jane was stroking Esau’s ears.
‘Mummy, as Esau hates kippers could he have the littlest bit of cereal and milk this morning?’
The rule was that Esau was not fed at meals. This meant nothing, for all the children fed him under the table, and on special occasions he was allowed something off a plate. But this was not a special occasion so Alex tried to be firm.
‘You know he mustn’t be fed at meals, I say that every day. Anyway, it ruins his figure.’
Cathy put down her teacup.
‘Talking of Esau’s figure, Mrs Gage found something in the paper that was round the kippers. It’s a competition for the most beautiful dog in Britain. I don’t know what date the paper was, or if the competition is over, but Mrs Gage thinks that if it isn’t over you ought to take Esau’s photograph, Paul, and enter it for the competition.’
‘What’s the prize?’ Paul asked.
‘Fifty pounds.’
There was a gasp round the table. Fifty pounds! An enormous sum like that, just for a photograph!
‘Fifty pounds!’ said Jane. ‘What will you buy with it, Paul?’
Ginnie stopped eating and leant on the table.
‘You can buy almost anything for fifty pounds. Will you spend it all on one thing, Paul, or on lots of little things?’
‘If it’s a photograph of Esau,’ said Angus, ‘then the fifty pounds belongs to him, and it’s him ought to decide what it’s spent on.’
Alex laughed.
‘Esau’s a very good-looking dog, but I don’t think we should start spending that fifty pounds at the moment. Paul has only a very small camera and it’s not in very good condition.’
Angus looked anxiously at his father.
‘Esau mayn’t like being the most beautiful dog in Britain. Hundreds of people will come and look at him, and he won’t care for that at all.’
‘I don’t think we need worry at the moment about admiring crowds, old man,’ said Alex.
Mrs Gage brought in the post. She handed a pile of letters to Alex.
‘The usual for you, Vicar.’ Then she passed one letter to Cathy. ‘It’s from your brother, Mrs Bell, dear.’ Paul told her they had just heard about the competition. Mrs Gage looked affectionately at Esau. ‘Bit of all right if our Esau were to win us fifty pounds, wouldn’t it? Mind you, though, it don’t always turn out for the best. There was a woman up my street took a prize in one of these newspaper competitions for the best-looking twin babies.’
‘What happened?’ asked Jane.
Mrs Gage saw the children were listening. Her voice became full of drama.
&nb
sp; ‘The day they won the prize the newspaper sends a photographer, and what do you think ’ad ’appened? The twins was swelled up so you wouldn’t ’ave known them from a coupl’a footballs. It was the mumps.’
In the second after Mrs Gage had said the word ‘mumps’ Ginnie threw an appalled glance at Jane, and Jane an equally appalled one at Ginnie. Each day before breakfast Ginnie measured her face with a yard measure. So far there was no difference in the measurement, though Ginnie had worried moments when in looking-glasses she thought she looked different. Jane’s worry was in case Ginnie was not measuring in the right place, and the mumps might swell up without their noticing it. Now they said in frightened voices:
‘Mumps!’
Mrs Gage was charmed to have so good an audience.
‘That’s right. Their mother thought maybe it was a judgment for puttin’ the babies photos in the paper.’
As the door shut behind Mrs Gage, Ginnie asked in a voice which, try as she would, sounded scared:
‘Can you get mumps as a judgment, Daddy?’
‘Of course not. Can you believe that Heaven would inflict mumps on two defenceless babies, just because their mother entered their photographs for a beauty competition?’
Cathy, who was reading her letter, gave a pleased squeak.
‘Oh, what fun! There’s going to be a medical conference the week after next, and both Uncle Jim and Mumsdad have to come to it, so Aunt Ann and Mumsmum are coming too. It will be nice to see them all.’
Such a chorus of approval greeted Cathy’s news that Alex had to laugh.
‘I notice much more enthusiasm when your family appear than when mine do, Cathy.’
Jane, who sat next to him, patted Alex’s hand.
‘It’s much easier when they come, no dressing up like there is for Grandfather and Grandmother, or the fuss that goes on when Aunt Rose and Uncle Alfred ask us to things. Mummy’s family like us as we are, and don’t care what we wear.’
Cathy was still reading her letter.
‘Oh, and imagine, it’s half-term! So they’re going to bring Ricky and Liza too. They say, if it’s fine, would you all like to go to the Zoo on the Saturday.’
‘Goodness,’ said Jane, ‘the things that happen to this family. Imagine, the ballet party for Angus’s birthday one week and the Zoo the next. Aren’t we getting gay?’
Jane saw Ginnie had sunk into silent gloom, and she did not wonder. She knew that Ginnie must be feeling awful inside, thinking you could get mumps as a judgment, and though she thought Ginnie ought to have had quarantine she was sorry for her. Nobody else noticed anything was wrong. To Paul it was always a day to remember when he could talk to Uncle Jim. Uncle Jim took his being a doctor for granted, and made the years before he could be one shrink. To Angus a day at the Zoo was the perfect day. He had once said that his idea of a perfect life would be to live in an empty cage at the Zoo, and he meant it. Alex was not noticing Ginnie, because he was so pleased for Cathy. Her father, though he was retired, was still on many committees, and Cathy did not see nearly enough of her parents. It was nice to see her so pleased she had pink cheeks, and shining eyes. He came round the table and kissed her.
‘Good-bye, darling, I hope you and Jane have a good morning shopping. I must go and get on with my work, before Mrs Gage lays her claws on my study.’
After Paul had gone, and while Cathy was talking food with Mrs Gage, Jane, Ginnie and Angus cleared the breakfast table. Ginnie, unable to hold back her worry any more, burst out:
‘Jane, I know Daddy says you can’t, but do you think you can get mumps as a judgment? I mean, could you if you weren’t a poor defenceless baby?’
Angus was scraping kipper bones on to a plate.
‘I don’t think Esau can get mumps as a judgment, because I don’t think dogs get mumps.’
Jane tried to sound hopeful.
‘Perhaps there isn’t any such thing as a judgment, anyway, perhaps you can’t catch mumps if there is.’ She saw she was not being very encouraging, so she changed the subject. ‘I wish that photograph was taken, and Esau’d won the fifty pounds now, then Mummy could have a new dress as well as me.’
Angus was disgusted at such casual treatment of other people’s money.
‘If Esau had fifty pounds you don’t know he’d want to spend it on a new frock for Mummy. I expect he would, because he’s got a lovely nature, but you can’t just go spending his money without asking.’
Jane patted Esau.
‘Of course that’s what you’d spend your money on, wouldn’t you, Esau?’ She knelt down and hugged his red-gold body to her. ‘Angel boy, you would buy Mummy a new dress, you’re as ashamed as we are to see her going to Aunt Rose’s party in Aunt Rose’s cast-off, aren’t you?’
It was not like Angus to pay attention to clothes, but because Jane had spoken to Esau about Cathy’s dress her words had sunk in. He watched her leave for the kitchen with a loaded tray, then he said to Ginnie:
‘Esau hasn’t any money yet, but if he ever has, and if Mummy needs a new dress, I’m perfectly certain he would buy one.’
Ginnie was glad to think of other things than judgments.
‘Of course she needs a new dress. She’s only got Aunt Rose’s old dress. You know how despising Aunt Rose can look. Well, we think she looks despising when Mummy wears it.’
‘Isn’t there enough money in the money box to buy her a new one?’
Ginnie looked scornfully at Angus.
‘Of course there isn’t, my boy. There’s only just enough to get Jane one, if there’s to be anything for the summer holidays.’
Angus, though he quarrelled with her a great deal, had faith in Ginnie.
‘Couldn’t you do something to get her one? You usually think of things.’
It was at that moment that Ginnie’s glorious idea was born. Everybody spent their time saying ‘Your old black frock,’ and ‘Aunt Rose’s cast-off,’ and things like that, but nobody did anything about it. Yet there must be things that could be done. Perhaps not a whole new dress, but there must be some way to make it different. She, Ginnie, would find that way.
‘I believe you’ve got something there, my boy. I’m not sure yet exactly what. Miss Virginia Bell will wait for guidance.’
There was always trouble if Cathy went out when the children were at home, without stating clearly what each was to do while she was away. The Bells were not a quarrelsome family, but it would not be natural for any child to offer to make beds, wash up or do any chore that was going unless they had been asked to. Before Cathy left with Jane on the shopping expedition she arranged that Angus would give his caterpillar boxes a real turn out, and while this was going on Ginnie would help Mrs Gage make the beds. Later, while Mrs Gage was doing her good deed to the study Ginnie and Angus were to be trusted to do the shopping. The reward for all this hard work was money for ice creams.
There was no need for Mrs Gage to look for a way to ask Ginnie if anything was worrying her, for before they were half-way through the first bed Ginnie said:
‘Mrs Gage, do you really believe things can come as a judgment? I mean, like you said those twins had mumps?’
Mrs Gage laid down her side of the sheet. Then she sat down on the bed and told Ginnie to come and sit beside her.
‘What are you worryin’ about judgments for? What you been up to?’
Ginnie turned her face away.
‘Nothing.’
Mrs Gage was not having that, she turned Ginnie’s face round so that she could see it.
‘I saw you lookin’ in the glass just now. Is it somethin’ to do with your face?’
The pupils of Ginnie’s eyes grew large with fright.
‘Why? Does it look different?’
Mrs Gage hugged Ginnie to her.
‘Is it somethin’ to do with the mumps? Now, come on, dear, the beds can wait. I know you’ve somethin’ on your mind, and what I told you about them twins brought it to an ’ead like. Troubles shared is troubles ’alved.’
Because Ginnie was really so terribly worried, Mrs Gage’s being so nice was the last straw. She flung her arms round her neck, and started to cry. She cried so hard that for quite a long time, though she told Mrs Gage the whole story, Mrs Gage never heard one word she said. So presently, when the crying had reached the sniff and hiccoughing stage, she said very gently:
‘Come on, stop cryin’. When you go out shoppin’ you don’t want the ’ole ’igh Street wonderin’ what you been cryin’ about. Now, start at the beginnin’, and tell me slow what the trouble is.’
Out came the story, how Alison had been taken out of the form, pulling the top off the cut, the leaning over Alison, and the awful end when Miss Newton had rung up.
‘It’s my ’satiable curiosity that did it. I simply had to know what the secret was.’
Mrs Gage stroked Ginnie’s hair.
‘I’m the same meself, dear. See a telegraph boy and you can’t ’old me, it’s fidget, fidget till I know who it’s for and what’s in the telegram.’
Ginnie felt much better after having told Mrs Gage her awful secret, but she was not at all sure that Mrs Gage realised the full terribleness that might happen if she caught mumps.
‘You see, if I get it it won’t be only me who has quarantine, it’ll be everybody. There won’t be any party for the ballet, Jane won’t dance her nymph, Paul will miss his cricket coaching, and now Mummy heard today that Mumsmum, Mumsdad, Uncle Jim, Aunt Ann, Ricky and Liza are all coming to London, and we’re going to the Zoo. If I have mumps that won’t happen either.’
Mrs Gage made worried clicking sounds, her tongue against her teeth.
‘This is a mess, this is. Mind you, never say die. I knew a lady once that ’eld a baby all the way from Liverpool to London, never knowing the baby ’ad the dip. She never caught it.’
‘But I’m afraid I shall catch it, I’m afraid it’ll be like you said, a judgment.’
Mrs Gage got up.
‘Judgment or no judgment we’d better finish these beds. Rightly I did ought to go to your mother, still, the trouble’s done now so to speak. Maybe we’d better ’ope on.’