Collected Works of E M Delafield

by E M Delafield

  The dam was marvellous. She was so pleased with it that she built a second one, further up. When that was finished she felt it must be nearly tea-time and went back to the cottage.

  Tim’s wireless was on, making a good deal of noise, and Basil and Arabella were quarrelling as hard as they could — not an interesting quarrel — only about some old opera or other — and Tim was writing in a corner.

  The woman from the village had left the tea ready on the table.

  Julia helped herself rather timidly. She could never quite get over the feeling that it was rather rude to take things off the table like that without asking anybody or waiting for them to begin.

  Basil looked at her when she came in and said, “Had a good day, my sweet?” but he didn’t seem to want any answer.

  Julia got “The Strand Magazine, Jan.-June 1900” out of the bookcase and read peacefully while she slowly ate an enormous tea.

  Much sooner than she’d expected, the car was back with daddy and Terry in it.

  Not Petah.

  “Where’s Petah?” asked Basil.

  “Staying the night with her mamma,” daddy answered very shortly.

  Terry had climbed stiffly out of the car and stood looking round him.

  Julia ran up to him.

  “I’ve made a dam in the orchard. Would you like to come and see it?”

  “Very much,” said Terry.

  “Go and change your clothes before you start messing about outside,” daddy shouted.

  He was evidently very cross. Julia hoped for Terry’s sake that he hadn’t been like that all day.

  She waited while Terry went up to change his things. He took ages, as he always did, and Julia felt as if she must die of impatience.

  But she didn’t, and eventually he appeared, wearing shorts and his blue singlet.

  He was frightfully nice about both the dams, and admired them a great deal and made a very witty joke about when was a dam not a damn. Julia screamed with laughter and said she honestly thought he ought to send that to Punchy they’d like it frightfully.

  Then they began to walk up and down, partly in the stream and partly out of it, and Terry — without being asked — suddenly began to tell Julia about his day.

  “You were quite right, Julia. I did go to see that man. He’s called Dr. Dubillier. He’s a pyschotherapist, did you know?”

  “Yes, but I don’t know what a — what you said — is.”

  “Neither do I, exactly,” Terry admitted. “But they’re much more modern than ordinary doctors, and they find out when things have mental causes and they can do one good without one’s having to go to bed or have operations or medicines or anything.”

  Julia thought what a pity it was that the cousin of the village woman hadn’t gone to a psychotherapist instead of to a hospital.

  “Was he nice?” she asked.

  “Quite,” Terry answered, without enthusiasm. “He talked a lot, and I’m to go and see him again and mummie’s to go and see him, and so are you.”

  “Me!”

  “Yes. He told me he could help me much more if he knew the people who had most to do with me, and that he’d like to see you specially. He asked a lot about you and a lot about mummie.”

  “Was daddy there all the time?”

  “No. He just took me there and then left me. I thought he was never coming back.”

  “Were you there ages?”

  “It seemed like years,” said Terry. “There was one very interesting picture in the room, of an old-fashioned Derby Day, and I kept on looking at that all the time, and thinking about it.”

  “What was Dr. Thingamy doing?”

  “Oh, he was just talking. He talked so much I simply couldn’t attend after a bit, so I stopped trying. I don’t think he knew I wasn’t listening. I said ‘I see’ a few times and ‘Oh yes’ and things like that. When I went away he told daddy that we’d made ‘firm friends.’”

  At this they both giggled a good deal.

  “I’m sure I’m going to loathe him,” said Julia cheerfully, “but it’ll be quite fun to see what he’s like. What else did you do?”

  “I had my hair cut. And I sat in daddy’s office for a bit. And then he and I and Petah and Mrs. Capper had lunch at her flat.”

  “Mrs. Capper! Oh. Did you see Annie?”

  “No. I’m afraid you’ll be very sorry, Julia. I asked about her because I thought you’d want to know.”

  He stopped.

  “Is she dead?” asked Julia.

  “Oh no. She’s just gone back to Cornwall. Petah said she didn’t like London.”

  “I’m glad she isn’t dead,” Julia said, relieved.

  “Is Mrs. Capper as beastly as ever?”

  “Worse, I should think. She asked if you’d gone back to school yet.”

  “Dam’ cheek,” said Julia.

  In the afternoon Terry had been sent, by himself, to the dentist. The dentist hadn’t hurt, but he’d said that Terry would have to come again before he went back to school. Then he’d gone back to daddy’s flat and hung about a bit, and presently he and Petah had had some tea and then daddy had come.

  “Why did Petah stay behind?” Julia asked.

  Terry said he didn’t know. He thought Mrs. Capper wanted her.

  “She isn’t coming back till the day after tomorrow, either. Daddy’s taking both of us up tomorrow, to see the psycho-therapist, and bringing us down again in the evening. And he isn’t bringing Petah till the next day.”

  “Am I going to London tomorrow?” said Julia, startled. “I don’t believe I’ve got any shoes to go in!”

  She explained what had happened, and Terry helped her to look again for her shoe, but they didn’t find it.

  “Didn’t you bring any others?” Terry asked.

  “Only my gym shoes. My other outdoor ones wanted mending and mummie only saw them when she was packing, and she said she’d send them after me but of course she never has.”

  “Very likely she hasn’t had time,” said Terry gently.

  Julia felt rather abashed, and said nothing more about her shoes. If the worst came to the worst, she thought, she could quite well go up to London in her sandals. They were frightfully old and shabby, but it wasn’t in the least likely that daddy would notice.

  XVI

  DR. DUBILLIER’S house was in Wimpole Street and he evidently had it all to himself, as there was only his own brass plate on the front door. Daddy rang the bell and it was opened by a man-servant who showed them into the waiting-room. Nobody else was there.

  Julia glanced at the Punches on the table and saw that they were all as old as the hills. Terry had got a heap of Fields and silently offered her one.

  Daddy was fidgeting about.

  At last he said: “Look here, there’s not much point in my waiting. You can go in when he’s ready for you. If he wants to see you separately, he’ll have to say so. Mummie’ll be here presently.”

  “What?” said Julia.

  “You heard what I said,” daddy told her — quite truly.

  Julia didn’t like, after that, to ask who was going to give them tea — although she badly wanted to know.

  “You’re sure you’ll be all right?” daddy said.

  They both said Yes, and he went to the door.

  “Are you going to fetch us, afterwards?” Terry asked.

  “Yes. Or somebody will. Anyway, wait here,” said daddy.

  They heard the front door slam behind him.

  Julia felt very glad that he and mummie weren’t going to be there together. She thought that would be terribly awkward, after all this time.

  “Where does he see one?” she asked Terry. “In here or upstairs?”

  “Upstairs,” Terry replied. “Be sure and notice that picture I told you about.”

  Julia promised she would.

  The door opened and she looked up expectantly. It was the man-servant again.

  “Will you come this way, if you please?” he asked very polite
ly.

  They followed him — not upstairs but to a little room next door. Julia looked at Terry enquiringly, and he signalled back at her that he didn’t know this room at all.

  Dr. Dubillier was sitting in an armchair by the writing-table but he got up when they came in and shook hands with them.

  He was very tall and wore spectacles, and he had a marvellous piece of black-and-white hair, falling over his forehead. All the rest of his hair was black and so were his eyebrows — which stuck out a lot.

  “Come along and sit down,” he said in a very friendly way. “You’re Julia, I know. I’ve heard a lot about you from Terry.”

  Julia was perfectly certain he hadn’t, but she quite saw that he meant to be nice, so she smiled back at him and sat down on a little gilt chair. Terry sat in the armchair on the other side of the fireplace, opposite to Dr. Dubillier. Then he began to talk to them, just exactly as if he was a visitor.

  He asked whether they liked London, and where they’d spent the holidays, and if they felt ready to go back to school, and what they thought of the country and what they did there.

  Julia answered most of the questions, knowing how much Terry hated questions. She didn’t really very much like them herself.

  And when it came to Dr. Dubillier asking, in a casual sort of voice, how they got on with their stepfather, Julia felt that this was going altogether too far.

  “Perfectly well, thank you,” she said in an icy voice.

  Dr. Dubillier looked at her over his spectacles, and Julia had an awful feeling that he knew she hadn’t spoken the truth. But he only said in a very gentle way:

  “Ah. And there’s a stepmother too, isn’t there.

  I hope she isn’t like the cruel stepmother in the fairy-tales.”

  “Not a bit, thank you,” Julia said, wondering if he meant it for a joke.

  “And what does Terry say?” asked the doctor suddenly.

  Julia knew from Terry’s start, and his alarmed expression, that he hadn’t been attending. So she changed the subject quickly.

  “Could I see the picture you’ve got upstairs, of the Derby?” she enquired.

  “Certainly,” said Dr. Dubillier. “But I want your brother to answer my question first.”

  “I don’t think he heard what you said.”

  Dr. Dubillier smiled a little.

  “I see.”

  “But anyway,” said Julia, seeing that Terry still looked quite bewildered, “he doesn’t think Petah — that’s what we’re supposed to call her — is in the least like a stepmother in a book. Neither do I. Now can I see the picture, please?”

  “By all means. Is it one that your brother saw when he was here before?”

  “Yes. I think he’d like to see it again too.” Julia had a feeling that if only they could all move about a bit, instead of sitting looking at one another, everything would be easier. And it might put a stop to all these questions too.

  The doctor took them upstairs, into a room on the first floor.

  “I generally see people in here,” he explained, “but sometimes on a hot afternoon like this it’s cooler in the little back room. Is this the picture you mean?”

  Julia glanced at Terry and he nodded.

  It was a large, very interesting picture, and Julia talked about it and asked questions which the doctor answered. Terry didn’t say anything.

  When Dr. Dubillier asked him straight out, “Are you very fond of pictures?” Terry answered:

  “Not specially. I quite like them, but not specially.” And he added very quickly: “I don’t know anything whatever about them.”

  He often said something like that to strangers, as if he was afraid they might think he was showing off. Julia talked harder than ever, in order to take Dr. Dubillier’s attention off Terry.

  It was a great relief to her when on the way downstairs again he told Terry to go and look at the papers in the waiting-room for a little while, he wanted to talk to Julia for a few minutes.

  In the little back room he stood up in front of the fireplace and this time Julia sat in the armchair.

  Then he began to talk.

  He told Julia a great many things that she knew already, mostly about how important one’s father and mother were in one’s life and how unsettling it was when there were changes and what a good thing it was that she and Terry should be friends. Then he began to talk about Terry. He said that Terry hadn’t got as much self-confidence as he ought to have, and didn’t Julia herself think this was rather a pity?

  “He’s always been like that,” said Julia sadly.

  “But,” said Dr. Dubillier, “I’m going to help him not to be like that any more. It may take a little time, but if Terry himself helps, and you do too, we shall succeed.”

  “What about his Public School?” Julia asked earnestly. “They’re talking now about not letting him go to a Public School. But I don’t know where they’d send him instead.”

  “Well, he might be taught at home for a little while and very likely go on to a Public School later.”

  “But where is home?” said Julia. “If you mean ‘Rosslyn’, I don’t think that’s at all a good idea. Uncle Tom doesn’t want him there, and I’m perfectly certain Terry couldn’t bear it. And daddy hasn’t got any proper room in his flat. Of course there’s the Plás — where my grandfather and grandmother live, near Chepstow. There’s heaps of room there.”

  “Well, well, that can be decided later. Now tell me, you get on with uncle Tom much better than Terry does, don’t you?”

  “Much,” Julia admitted. And she added in a burst of confidence: “As a matter of fac’ I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t really hate him when Terry’s not there. It’s only when Terry’s there.”

  “Ah,” said Dr. Dubillier, and he looked at her over his spectacles again. “I want to talk to you about that. You know, you mustn’t identify yourself too closely with Terry. It isn’t good for you, and it isn’t good for him. Can you understand that?”

  “Oh yes,” said Julia, who certainly wasn’t going to admit that she didn’t. At least — she supposed she did in a way, though not altogether, but she hadn’t any wish to understand it better.

  Just then the man-servant came in again and he handed a card to Dr. Dubillier.

  “Has mummie come?” said Julia instantly.

  “She has. How did you know?”

  “Daddy said she’d come.”

  “Show Mrs. Prettyman in here,” said the doctor.

  In another minute, there was mummie.

  Julia came up to her and was kissed. She could tell that mummie was in rather a fuss. Probably she was, as usual, in a hurry and thinking she was going to be late for her next appointment.

  “Where’s Terry?”

  “He’s in the next room,” said Dr. Dubillier very soothingly. “He and I had a long talk yesterday, and this time Julia and I have been making friends.”

  “I hear you’ve seen his father.”

  “Yes. In fact, I’ve now had the pleasure of meeting the whole family.”

  Mummie didn’t even smile at this though it was evidently meant to be a little sort of joke. She said:

  “I think Julia had better go and wait with Terry. I’m afraid I’ve got terribly little time to spare, but I’ve been so dreadfully worried about the boy—”

  Julia felt Dr. Dubillier’s hand firmly pressed down upon her shoulder, guiding her towards the door.

  “We shall meet again,” he said. “Goodbye for the moment.”

  “Goodbye,” said Julia mechanically.

  What was all this about?

  She went into the room next door and found that another person, besides Terry, was there waiting. A young man who blinked his eyes. The regularity with which he did this fascinated Julia, who couldn’t help looking at him every few minutes.

  Knowing that this was rude, she got up and walked about the room.

  Terry had found a book and was reading it. Julia wished she had a book, but there
were no other ones to be seen, and Terry’s looked frightfully dull — all about places, with deadly photographs of houses.

  Julia took another look at the young man and he at once blinked again.

  Julia pinched her little finger hard to stop herself from laughing. But she knew that unless she could find something to do she would have to look at him again and if he blinked she wouldn’t be able to help laughing.

  “Should you think I could go and look for the lavatory?” she whispered to Terry. It would anyhow take up a little time, and in some houses they kept books in the lavatory.

  “I should think it would be all right,” said Terry.

  Julia went softly out, unable to resist a parting glance at the blinking young man.

  In the hall, which had a very thick carpet, she hesitated for a moment whether to go upstairs or to try a door at the very end of a sort of passage that was really the hall grown narrow where the underneath part of the staircase stuck out.

  Then, all of a sudden, she heard mummie’s voice talking loud and rather fast.

  Startled and rather thrilled, Julia realized that mummie and Dr. Dubillier were still in the little room next to the big waiting-room, and that, standing still in the hall, she could hear most of what they were saying.

  Of course it was dishonourable and all that — but Julia, although feeling terribly guilty, was quite unable to move away.

  After all, it was her business, quite as much as theirs.

  “... this rushing backwards and forwards, from one to the other — it’s the worst possible thing. It’ll have to stop. Their father and I are going to make some other arrangement. Perhaps take them for alternate holidays or something of that kind.”

  Unluckily Julia couldn’t hear everything — only bits here and there.

  Dr. Dubillier was much harder to make out than mummie was. Besides, he used such unfamiliar words. Julia was almost sure she heard something like “infant fixation.”

  Infant fixation?

  It didn’t seem to mean anything.

  “But then,” said mummie’s voice, “if you really do advise a completely new [something].”

  “I do. Most emphatically. That dependence has got to be broken, for the boy’s own sake.”

  . question of expense,” was the next thing.