The Empire Trilogy - J. G. Farrell [119]
Edward had paused, holding his tightly clenched fist under the oil lamp. Curious, the Major went over. Edward slowly opened his fingers—a tuft of red hair lay in his palm.
“That’s not much help,” he laughed. “I must know two dozen men with hair that colour around here.” Now that he was standing near to the light the Major could see that he was very pale. But he continued in a strong and cheerful tone: “Must have wrenched this from the beggar’s scalp. Didn’t realize I had it in my hand till I was back here.”
Far from getting better as time went on, the situation was plainly getting worse. Hardly a day passed now without some fresh instance of disagreeable behaviour on the part of the local population: a tradesman deliberately ignoring you in his shop, a child putting out its tongue at you without being scolded by its parents, a door that nobody thought of holding open for you, a seat that nobody offered you while you were waiting to be served...Trivial things, perhaps, but when one thought of how obliging the people of Kilnalough used to be! In short, it became wearing for the nerves. Who could blame Miss Staveley for delivering a long, rambling rebuke to the sniggering shop-girls of Finnegan’s?
The ladies from the Majestic no longer ventured into Kilnalough alone these days; one was too vulnerable to insult. If anything was needed, a few ounces of wool or a jar of peppermints, perhaps, or something from the chemist’s—smelling-salts or senna pods or lavender water—the problem was discussed over the whist-tables and an expedition was mounted. Six eyes, of course, all sharply on the look-out, proved far better than two for spotting insults while in the drapery or the tea-rooms, three tongues far better than one for putting someone back in his place.
In no time at all the ladies developed a remarkable skill for discerning traces of insulting behaviour in the townspeople. A lack of respect would be detected (in a turned back, in a “saucy” smile, in a cheeky “Good day!”) and quick as a flash it would be dealt with. Miss Johnston rapidly established herself as the champion in both detection and retribution and accordingly became the most sought-after person to accompany shopping expeditions. Miss Bagley and Miss Staveley were also reliable performers. Miss Archer and Miss Porteous however, were frankly not much good; the latter was particularly erratic in detection and tended to become incoherent with rage once she was aroused. As for poor Mrs Rice, she was completely hopeless.
“She wouldn’t notice if someone called her an old aitch...ee...en to her face,” sighed Miss Johnston. “We shall simply have to make sure she isn’t left alone.”
One afternoon the Major happened to accompany an expedition which included Miss Devere, Miss Johnston and Mrs Rice, all of whom had some business to conduct at the post office. He was astonished by the speed with which battle was joined. Half-way across the bustling market square, without a moment’s hesitation, Miss Johnston locked antlers with a craggy-faced old farmer whom she had observed spitting on the ground some twenty yards away with obvious reference, she said, to herself and her companions.
“Oh really!” protested the Major. But Miss Johnston was already berating the surprised farmer and even waving her umbrella in his face in a threatening manner. Later there was more trouble when a clerk at the post office spoke to her with his hands in his pockets.
It didn’t take long for the Major to perceive that the ladies found these expeditions a source of rare excitement. Almost every afternoon a party was formed to go and buy something in Kilnalough. Those left at the whist-tables would await the return of the shoppers with eager anticipation, and rare were the afternoons when the returning ladies had no encounters to report. The Major was dubious about most of