The Death of the Heart - Elizabeth Bowen [54]
Lilian's mother says her blue dress is too clinging, but Lilian does not agree that it is.
Tonight there is quite a fog.
Friday.
When I woke my window was like a brown stone, and I could hardly see the rest of the room. The whole house was just like that, it was not like night but like air being ill. While I was having breakfast, I could just see people holding our railings tight. Thomas has his breakfast after I have mine, but today he came and said, this must be your first fog. Then Anna sent down to say, would I rather not go to Miss Paullie's, but I said, oh, no I would rather go. She sent down another message to say Matchett had better go with me, then. Thomas said, she's quite right, you'll never see the traffic, you'll just have to push it back with your hand. And of course Matchett's hand is stronger than mine.
The walk there was just like an adventure. Outside the park gate there were fires burning, Matchett said they were flares. She made me wrap my mouth up and not speak, or I should swallow the fog. Half way there we took a taxi, and Matchett sat straight up as if she was driving the taxi herself. She still made me not speak. When we got to Miss Paullie's, half the girls had not got there at all. We had the lights on all day, and it felt more like a holiday. At the end of it there was not so much fog left, but all the same Matchett came to fetch me home.
We were to have had a lecture on the Appreciation of Mozart, but because of the fog we had a Debate on Consistency being the Hobgoblin of Small Minds. We also wrote essays on Metternich's policy.
Tonight Anna and Thomas stayed at home for dinner.
She said that whenever there was a fog she always felt it was something that she had done, but she did not seem to mean this seriously. Thomas said he supposed most people felt the same and Anna said she was certain they did not. Then we sat in the drawingroom, and they wished I was not there.
Tomorrow is Saturday, but nothing will happen.
Saturday.
I was quite right in saying nothing would happen, even the fog had gone, though it has left a brown stain. Thomas and Anna went away for the week-end, but this time by a train. I sat in the drawingroom and started "Great Expectations". Matchett was busy with Anna's clothes. I went down to her for tea, she said, well, you're quite a ghost. But really it is this house that is like that. Phyllis invited me in to hear the kitchen gramophone. They can only play that when Anna is away.
Until I went out with Eddie I did not feel like this, unless I felt like this without knowing.
Sunday.
This time this day last week.
This morning I went for a walk in the park. It was rather empty. Dogs kept running round till they got lost and people whistled, and everything smelt of clay. I looked at the places we like best, but they were not the same. Some Sundays are very sad. In the afternoon Matchett took me on a bus to afternoon service at St. Paul's Cathedral. They sang Abide With Me. On the way home Matchett said, did I know Thomas and Anna were going away in April? She said, they're set on going abroad. This was a surprise. She said, the way I was always one to notice, she wondered I hadn't picked anything up. She said, no doubt you'll be told in their good time. I said, shall I stay here? and she said, you can't do that, I'll be spring cleaning the house. I said, well I do wonder, but she just shut her mouth. The streets outside the bus looked much darker, because of all the shops being shut.
I wish someone liked me so much that they would come to the door when I was out and leave surprises for me on the hall table, to find when I came in.
When we got back from St. Paul's, Matchett went in at the basement, but she made me go in at the front door with my key.
After supper, I sat on our rug in front of Thomas' fire. I thought some of the things that Eddie had told me on this rug.
His father is a builder.
When he was a child he knew pieces of the Bible straight off by heart.