The Garden Party and Other Stories

with reddish grass beyond them; there was nothing to mark which was beach and where was the sea. A heavy dew had fallen. The grass was blue. Big drops hung on the bushes and just did not fall; the silvery, fluffy toi-toi was limp on its long stalks, and all the marigolds and the pinks in the bungalow gardens were bowed to the earth with wetness. D

the smooth stones, gushing into ferny basins and out again; and there was the splashing of big drops on large leaves, and something e

ng that sounded mournful and tender. The old dog cut an ancient caper or two and then drew up sharp, ashamed of his levity, and walked a few dignified paces by his master’s side. The sheep ran forward in little pattering rushes; they began to bleat, and ghostly flocks and herds answered them from under the sea. “Baa! Baaa!” For a time they seemed to be always on the same piece of ground. There ahead was stretched the sandy road with shallow puddles; the same soaking bushes showed on either side and the same shadowy palings. Then something immense came into view; an enormous shock-haired giant with his arms stretched out. It was the big gum-tree outside Mrs. Stubbs’ shop, and as they passed by there was a strong whiff of eucalyptus. And now big spots of light gleamed in the mist. The shepherd stopped whistling; he rubbed his red nose and wet beard on his wet s

olly lambs of sleep. Then the first inhabitant appeared; it was the Burnells’ cat Florrie, sitting on the gatepost, far too early as usual, looking for their milk-girl. When she saw the old sheep-dog she sprang up quickly, arched her back, drew in her tabby head, and seemed

harred-looking little whare where Leila the milk-girl lived with her old Gran. The sheep strayed over a yellow swamp and Wag, the sheep-dog, padded after, rounded them up and headed them for the steeper, narrower rocky pass that led out of Crescent Bay and towards Daylight Cove. “Baa! Baa!” Faint the cry came as they rocked along the fast-drying road.

I

into the hollow, staggered up the sandy hillock, and raced for dear life over the big porous stones, over the cold, wet pebbles, on to the hard sand that gleamed like oil. Splish–Splosh

Mighty One!” A velvety bass voi

ark head bobbing far out and an arm lifted. It was Jonathan

should he come barging over to this exact spot? Stanley gave a kick, a lunge and struck out, swimming overar

inary dream last n

t hold of, or some rot he’d been reading. Stanley turned over on his back and kicked with his legs till he was a living waterspout. But even then . . . “I dreamed I was hanging over a terrifica

— or pretended to be — that he sank under

to — to fool about. I want to get this over. I’m

water with scarcely a ripple . . . But curse the fellow! He’d ruined Stanley’s bathe. What an unpractical idiot the man

to make a job of everything. You couldn’t help feeling he’d be caught out one day, and then what an almighty cropper he’d come! At that moment an immense wave lifted Jonathan, rode past him, and broke along the beach with a joyful sound. What a beauty! And now there came another. That was the way to live — carelessly, recklessly, spending oneself. He got on to his feet and began

as as though some one was wringing the blood out of him. And stalking up the beach, shi

I

collar and a spotted tie. He looked almost uncannily clean and brushed; he was going to tow

s,” he said. “You might go and se

aid Beryl. She sat down at the

llo!” he said in an astonished vo

s. What did this mean? As Stanley helped himself his blue eyes widened; they

e?” he asked carelessly

nt; she turned her

hen she too looked up, and smiled

as far as I know. I thou

ey were dressed alike in blue jerseys and knickers; their brown legs were bare, and each had her hair

the very greatest care. They loved being allowed to ca

ed themselves on the bench

y!” Old Mrs. Fairfiel

other! How’

the garden. The sea sounded. Through the wide-open window streamed the sun on to the yellow varnished walls and bare floor. Everything on the table flashe

anley. “I’ve only twelve and a half minutes before the co

or you.” Mrs. Fairfie

such a messy child!” c

river down the middle of her porridge, filled it, and was eating the banks away

properly like Isabel and Lott

kes a floating island

nkle mine with sugar and put on the milk and

d back his ch

down to the gate and stop the coach. Run in to your mother, Isabel, and ask her where

fat

istinctly putting it in this corner. Now, who’s had it? Ther

to the chase. “You haven’t been using it t

“Most extraordinary thing. I can’t keep a single poss

on these occasions could not be real, Stanl

ley!” Beryl’s voice

time to say good-bye!” he cried. And

gate, was laughing up at somebody or other just as if nothing had happened. The heartlessness of women! The way they took it for granted it was your j

idle, shading her eyes with her hand. The worst of it was Stanley had to shout good-bye too, for the sake of

gone!” Linda cried from her room: “Beryl! Has Stanley gone?” Old Mr

on

on

unded warm and loving and as if they shared a secret. Beryl went over to the table. “Have another cup of tea, mother. It’s still hot.” She wan

e tossed the boy up and said “a-goos-a-goos-a-ga!” to him meant that she felt

in the kitchen, caught the infection and used the

bowl and held it under the water even after it had stopped bubb

V

Isa-bel! Kezia

wobble; she grasped the post. Then you had to put one leg over. But which leg? She never could decide. And when she did finally put one leg over with a sort of stamp of des

tugged Kezia’s jersey. “You can use my bucket if you come with me,” she said kindly. “It’s bigger than yours.” But Kezia c

other foot ove

he

at Kezia as if from

and is.” Kezia p

ottie gave a deep sigh and

round and sit down a

g to sit down on, K

once it was over she shook

at climbing over sti

s a very ho

top they paused to decide where to go and to have a good stare at who was there already. Seen from behind, sta

black crabs into the boys’ pockets. So Mrs. S. J. and the poor lady-help drew up what she called a “brogramme” every morning to keep them “abused and out of bischief.” It was all competitions or races or round games. Everything began with a piercing blast of the lady-help’s whistle and ended with another. There were even prizes — large, rather dirty paper parcels which the lady-help with a s

A big washhand basin of very brown fruit-salad, buns cut into four and a washhand jug full of something the lady-help called “Limonadear.” And you went away in the evening with half t

e was digging, the other pattered in and out of the water, filling a small bucket. They were the Trout boys, Pip and Rags. Bu

d.” And he showed them an old wet, squashed

going to do with

Pip was very scornfu

w that. All t

,” explained Pip. “They get chucked up fro

e to keep on pouring w

aid Pip, “to make the work a

nd down, pouring in the water

ay?” said Pip mysteriously, and he stuck his

pro

my heart str

le girls

ed it a long time on the front of his jers

round!”

urned

same way! Ke

e light something that flashed, that

ral,” said P

Pip?” Even Isab

unt Beryl had a nemeral in a ring, but it was a very small

then the children were unbuttoned. The beach was strewn with little heaps of clothes and shoes; the big summer hats, with stones on them to keep them from blowing away, looked like immense shells. It was strange that even the sea seemed to sound differently when all those leaping, laughing figures ran into the waves. Old Mrs. Fairf

nly followed on the strict understanding they were not to be splashed. As for Lottie, she didn’t follow at all. She liked to be left to go in her own way, please. And that way was to sit down at the edge of the water, her legs straight, her knees pressed toget

keep those fo

ld chain were dropped i

aren’t you going

ue. “I’m undressing farther along. I’m

’s lips set. She disapproved of

over the stones. Poor old mother! Old! Oh, w

y Kember. She sat hunched up on the sto

day,” said Beryl,

understand why it did not fall. When she was not playing bridge — she played bridge every day of her life — she spent her time lying in the full glare of the sun. She could stand any amount of it; she never had enough. All the same, it did not seem to warm her. Parched, withered, cold, she lay stretched on the stones like a piece of tossed-up driftwood. The women at the Bay thought she was very, very fast. Her lack of vanity, her slang, the way she treated men as though she was one of them, and the fact that she didn’t care twopence about her house and calle

er was like a man walking in his sleep. Men couldn’t stand him, they couldn’t get a word out of the chap; he ignored his wife just as she ignored him. How did he live? Of course there were stories, but such stories! They simply couldn’t be told. The women he’d been seen with, the places he’d been seen in . . . but nothing was

er blouse. And Beryl stepped out of her skirt and shed her jersey, and stood up

. Harry Kember, “what a

rawing off one stocking and then t

lue cotton knickers and a linen bodice that reminded one somehow of a pillow-case . . . “And you don’t wear stays,

e,” sighed Mrs. Kembe

s of some one who is trying to take off her clothes and

I shan’t eat you. I shan’t be shocked like those other ninnies.” And

Why be shy indeed! She glanced quickly at her friend standing so boldly in her torn chemise and lighting a fresh cigarette; and a quick, bold, evil feeli

down the beach together. “Really, it’s a sin for you to we

ou kicked with your toes there rose a little puff of gold-dust. Now the waves just reached her breast. Beryl stood, her arms outstretc

ly, like a rat. Then she flicked round and began swimming back. She was going to say something else. Beryl felt that she was being poisoned by this cold woman, but she longed to hear. But oh, how strange, ho

I

s, if you held one of those flowers on the palm of your hand and looked at it closely, it was an exquisite small thing. Each pale yellow petal shone as if each was the careful work of a loving hand. The tiny tongue in the centre gave it the shape of a bell. And when you turned it over the outside was a dee

ike a shadow than like real hair, but his ear was a bright, deep coral. Linda clasped her hands above her head and crossed her feet. It was very pleasant to

ime to get over the sense of novelty and strangeness, time to know them! But as soon as one paused to part the petals, to discover the under-side of the leaf, along came Life and one was swept away.

gh, Linny, we’ll cut off somewhere, we’ll escape. Two boys together. I have a fancy I’d like to sail up a river in China.” Linda saw that river,

, pa

lked slowly past their house, and slowly, solemnly even, uncove

beau,” he

being married to

ho longed to be good. Stanley was simple. If he believed in people — as he believed in her, for instance — it was with his whole heart. He could not be disloyal; he could not tell a lie. And how terribly he suffere

but all the rest of the time it was like living in a house that couldn’t be cured of the habit of catching on fire, on a ship that got wrecked every day. And it was always Stanley who was in the thic

e, for one, could prove that wrong. She was broken, made weak, her courage was gone, through child-bearing. And what made it doubly hard to bear was, she did not love her children. It was useless pretending. Even if she had had the strength she never would have nursed and played with the little girls. No, it was as though a cold breath

ue, baby eyes were open; he looked as though he was peeping at his mother. And sudde

smile seemed to say.

t smile that Linda smiled herself. But she checked her

t believe her. “Don’t like me?” He w

off her chair

said severely. “If you knew what I

yly, and rolled his head on the pill

about that!”

hat was not what she felt; it was something far different, it was something so new, so . . .

front of him. He made a grab at it and it immediately disappeared. But when he lay back, another, like th

I

and blue and black and white-veined pebbles. It sucked up the little drop of water that lay in the hollow of the curved shells; it bleached the pink

ue houses clustered on the shores; and oh! the vast mountainous country behind those houses — the ravines, the passes, the dangerous creeks and fearful tracks that led to the water’s edge. Underneath waved the sea-forest — pink thread-like trees, velvet anemones, and orange berry-spotted weeds. Now a stone on the bottom moved, rocked, and t

ave a pair of sand-shoes on the sill and some lumps of rock or a bucket or a collection of pawa shells. The bush quivered in a haze of heat; the sandy road was empty except for the Trouts’ dog Snooker, who lay stretched in the ver

ndma? Why do you keep stopping a

her lap. This room that they shared, like the other rooms of the bungalow, was of light varnished wood and the floor was bare. The furniture was of the shabbiest, the simplest. The dressing-table, for instance, was a packing-case in a sprigged muslin petticoat, and the mirror above was very strange; it was as though a little piece

grandma,”

twice round her thumb, and drew the b

r Uncle William, darli

e William?” said Ke

of c

e I nev

was th

Kezia knew perfectly well, b

got a sunstroke there and di

ain . . . a little man fallen over like a t

nk about him, grandma?” She

o stare down the years, as Kezia had seen her doing. To look after them as a woman

Kez

rm and began to draw things in the air. “Why

stitches in threes. “It just happe

y have to die?

rybo

unded fearfull

ay, my

ft leg and waggled the toes. They

again and drew a long

e said sadly. “It happens to

It meant she would have to leave here, leave everywhere, f

e said in a s

, my

die.” Kezia w

up and smiled and shook her he

ouldn’t not be there.” This was awful. “Promise

man went o

me! Say

er grandma

pt on to her grandma’s knees, clasped her hands round the old woman’s throat a

e gasped between the kisses. And then she began,

say never, say never,” gurgled Kezia, while they lay there laughing in each other’s arms. “Come, that’s enough, my

orgotten what the

I

for her afternoon out. She wore a white cotton dress with such large red spots on it and so many that they made you shudder, white shoes and a leghorn turned up under the brim with popp

picture would have been complete. And where did a girl like that go to in a place like this? The heart-shaped Fijian fan beat scornfully at that lovely bright mane. She supposed Alice

ite” by the little boy who called for orders. She had taken ever such a liking to Mrs. S

d to her side. “I never seen anyone so eaten.

weak in the spine. She couldn’t believe that some one wasn’t watching her. And yet it was silly to turn round; it gave you away.

wo big windows for eyes, a broad veranda for a hat, and the sign on the roof,

ate at least fifty. Even then it was the rarest thing to find the left that belonged to the right. So many people had lost patience and gone off with one shoe that fitted and one that was a little too big . . . Mrs. Stubbs prided herself on keeping something of everything. The two windows, arra

OCH SOLID GOLD ON OR N

hand, she looked like a friendly brigand. Alice was welcomed so warmly that she found it quite difficult to keep up her “manners.” They consisted of persiste

omebody’s baking-powder. But the Primus stove roared so loudly that it was useless to try to talk above it. Alice sat down on the edge of a basket-

my dear,” she shouted cheerfully to A

tissue back from the first one. Life! How many there were! Ther

be. For though the arm-chair stood on a carpet, to the left of it, miraculously skirting the carpet-border, there was a dashing water-fall. On

screamed “Sweetly” when the roaring of the Primus stove died down, fizzl

the tea, “but I don’t care about the size. I’m having an enlargemint. All very well for Christmas cards, but I never

e saw what

the creeps. And, strange as it may seem, my dear”— here Mrs. Stubbs creaked and seemed to expand herself at the memory —“it was dropsy tha

t was that was drawn from him. She

th her eyes and replied meanin

m the word like a cat and cam

rly man with a dead white rose in the buttonhole of his coat that made you think of a curl of cold mutti

a fine face,” sa

plump neck. What a neck she had! It was bright pink where it began and then it changed

reedom’s best!” Her soft, fat chuckle sounded like

felt awkward. Her mind flew back to her own kitchin

X

ke as much noise as they liked, and nobody ever interrupted. It was a small tin shed standing apart from the bungalow. Against the wall there was a deep trough and in the corner a copper with a basket of clothes-pegs on top of it. The little window, spu

ezia. A bee’s not an a

A tiny bee, all yellow-furry, with striped legs. She drew her le

she said stoutly. “It makes a

ve such a tremendous bellow — how did he make

tle Rags. “A whole lot of s

o you

ike the little lamb that trots behi

el. With her red cheeks and brigh

d she sat there smiling, waiting for them

as Kezia’s suggestion. “Hee

ie solemnly. “When d

ll listen!” And he waited for them. “Look here, Lottie.” He turned up a card. “It’s got two spots on it — see? Now, if y

e was round-e

ee? Just while we’re playing.” T

a little silly,” sa

others glanced at one another like conspirators. All of them knew what that meant. She would go away and be discov

tie. It’s quite e

ctly like a grown-up, “Watch me

e you the first one. It’s mine, really, but I’ll give it to you.

in another difficulty. “I haven’t got a

very wet-looking one, knotted together. “Be very careful,” he warned her. “Only use th

— you’re not to look at your cards. You’ve got to

s too quick for them. It was very exciting, sitting there in the washhouse; it was all t

ttie, yo

card off her pack, had a good look at it — it was

You mustn’t look first. You mu

ll see it the same tim

bull was terrible. He charged over th

said t

od up in her excitement and

s and Lottie put down the one they called the

you call ou

hat I am,” said t

Be a dog inst

a one Kezia waited on purpose. The others made signs to Lottie and pointed. Lotti

ick of it when the bull stopped them, holding

t do you mean?”

ouse-still. “I thought I heard a —

ike?” asked th

ans

we shut the door for?” she said softly

he sand-hills, up the paddock. You were frightened to look in the corners of the washhouse, and yet you had to look with all your might. And

l, “if a spider was to fall from the

n’t fall fr

seen a spider as big as a saucer, wit

jerked up; all the little bodies

dy come and call us

ut of cups! They’d forgotten about them. No, not really forgotten. That was w

ll of them jumped off the forms, all of them screa

d against the window was a pale

Mother!

r one another, before it opened for Uncle Jona

off a dead pink or give a top-heavy carnation something to lean against, or to take a deep breath of something, and then walking

ed off his shabby panama, pressed it against his br

tial Peach Blossom!” boomed the bass voice

her’s giving the boy his bath . . .

ut of things and sending across to

le love, a little kindness;” and he

h other well. The voices of children cried from the other gardens. A fisherman’s light cart shook along the sandy road, and from far away they heard a dog barking; it wa

e office on Monday, do yo

gs to upon the victim for another eleve

e. “It must be awfu

gh, my fair sister? W

onathan’s way of talking tha

ely, “one gets used to it.

boom from underneath the ground. “I wonder how it’

He was passionately fond of music; every spare penny he had went on books. He was always full of new ideas, schemes, plans. But nothing came of it all. The new fire blazed in Jonathan; you almost heard it roaring softly as he explained, described and dilated on the new thing; but a moment later it had falle

nary prisoner. The only difference I can see is that I put myself in jail and nobody’s ever going to let me out. That’s a more intolerable situation than the other. For if I’d been — pushed in, against my will — kicking, even — once the door was locked, or at any rate in five years or so, I might have accepted the fact and begun to take an interest in the flight of flies or counting the warder’s steps along the passage with particular attention to variations of tread and

like that, why —”

g, mysterious question. Why don’t I fly out again? There’s the window or the door or whatever it was I came in by. It’s not

eave the office? Why don’t I seriously consider, this moment, for instance, what it is that prevents me leaving? It’s not as though I’m tremendously tied. I’ve two boys to provide for, but, after all, they’re boys. I could cut off to sea, or

ye hear

nfolds its

y were

times when those beams of light show in the sky they are very awful. They remind you that up there sits Jehovah, the jealous God, the Almighty, Whose eye is upon you, ever watchful, never weary. You remember that at His coming the whole earth will shake into one ruined graveyard; the cold, bright angels will drive you

Jonathan. “It’s not the scene, it’s not the setting for . .

ever change, but she said,

assed his hand over his head. “Look!” His black hair was speckle

tretched, she saw him, for the first time, not resolute, not gallant, not careless, but touched already wi

d again and kis

e,” he murmured. “I must go seek those heir

I

marigolds. Florrie, the cat, came out on to the veranda, and sat on the top step, her white paws close t

id Florrie. “Thank goodness, the long d

’s whip. It came near enough for one to hear the voices of the men

he path before he saw Lin

Stan

zed her in his arms. She was enfolded

mmered Stanley, and he put his hand un

miled Linda. “Bu

se all day. I’ve had the hell of a day. I made up my mind to dash out and telegraph, and

d Linda, “what must

g good-bye to you this morning? I can’t imagine how I can have done such a thing. My confounded temper, o

n your hand?” asked Linda

wearing some in the coach this morning, so, as I was passing the shop, I dashed in and

ng,” said Linda, “I thi

er own fingers and looked at her hand, turnin

hole time I bought them.” It was true, but for some

I

re slowly, almost with every breath, waking up into a new, wonderful, far more thrilling and exciting world than the daylight one. And what is this queer sensation that you’re a conspirator? Lightly,

down on the side of your bed, change your shoes and dash out again. A dive down to the glass, two pins in your hair, powder your nose and of

y own f

Their l

ttle beauty!” She jumped off her bed, ran over to the window and kneeled on the window-seat, with her elbows on the sill. But the beautiful night, the garden, every bush, every leaf, even the white palings, even the stars, were conspirators too. So bright wa

t the bush, it seemed t

n the night, imploring we know no

at excitement and so on has a way of suddenly leaving you, and it’s as though, in the

e. I’m Beryl.

er

me

hem; but that’s not what she means. She wants some one who will find the Beryl they

us live our life, all new, all ours, from the very beginning. Let us make

s almost, “Save me

f while you’re young. That’s my advice.” And a high rush of si

just be rude. And you’ve always this horror of seeming inexperienced and stuffy like the other ninnies

hy doesn’t “

e, thought Beryl, any

s coming at all?” mocked

, perhaps, but not she. It wasn’t possible to think that B

ember Beryl

I saw her. She was standing on the beach in a blue”— no, pink —“muslin froc

y as ever, more

eir palings as if he was coming straight towards her. Her heart beat. Who was it? Who could it be? It couldn’t be a burglar, certainly not a

iss Beryl,” said

even

for a little w

of night! “I couldn’t. Everybod

moke reached her. “What does everybody matter? Do co

ready something stirred in h

ghtened?” It mocked,

weak thing within her seemed to uncoil, to gro

od by the other, the voice said, gentl

ossed the veranda, ran down the grass

and it teased, “You’re not frighte

her everything was different. The moonlight stared and glitt

” she said lightly

led gently, tugg

ming any farthe

e her. “Come along! We’ll just go as

over the fence in a shower. There w

don’t want to

e came close to her, turned to her, smiled and

mile froze her with horror. What was she doing? How had she got here? the stern garden asked he

old little devil!” sa

g. She slipped, duc

ile, vile,

ame did you come?” s

answe

I

e sea sounded deep, troubled. Then the cloud sailed away, and the sound of the