FALSE SPRING

New Zealand Listener, Volume 17, Issue 425, 15 August 1947, Page 20

FALSE SPRING

| Written for "The Listener" |

by

E.M.

L.

S soon as Mrs, Bill Edgar opened her eyes she knew "Spring was in and a good month too early. By moving over in the rumpled double bed she could see the pink sky behind the plum tree, and in the plum tree four blackbirds’ preening under their wings, and with contortions down their backs. Hidden along the slim twittery twigs were incipient buds, and Mrs, Edgar thought of sap and roots and the general upsurge of Spring. Then and there she decided that she would leave everything for the day and go into the garden. Everything meant housework. and cooking. Gardening too was work, but work with a difference. It was actually’ creation and an escape into the Unknown. Gardening was full of joy and horrible disappointments like couch grass and mildew and grass grubs, but it seemed more full of hope than any other occupation. If it failed one season, there would soon be another. And having so thought, Mrs. Edgar eased herself over the side of the bed and put on her sandals. She reaily had to look for her gardening clothes, the khaki drill ‘suit with the bib she had made herself and which was most uncomfortable .. . perhaps the shoulder straps were_a_ bit short becausé certainly one couldn’t bend with ease. On-top of the suit she pulled an old sweater ‘and then’ was ready for breakfast. Mr. Edgar had left the house before his wife had made the momentous dis; covery. about Spring, and the crumby remains of his breakfast and empty eggshells. greeted her in the kitchen. She tidied--up a space for herself at the table and .made fresh tea: Breakfast over, Mrs. Edgar laid a firm hand upon herself and went right out without even washing up. The spade was in the tool shed with dried earth thick upon it. She began to dig. When digging became too strenuous, she raked dead grass and leaves under the trees and exposed the pale pointed sheaths of daffodils. She softened round the roots of the flowering cherry trees and noticed, with the joy of a child undoing its birthday parcels, the tiny reddening buds swelling on the graceful branches. Refreshed with ‘that, she went back to digging. So, alternating her hard and easy jobs, she flashed through the early hours with a happy heart. ‘ 1% Mm oR ; F course it would be the morning for her serial in the For My Lady session, but she would have a cup of tea while. she listened and be fresh again. She ran indoors, dropping mud from her heavy gardening boots, just in time to hear the benediction from the Devotional Service, and then it was the serial. It was about Sam Smith and his family and for such a nice family they got themselves into some dreadful messes, but of course that was the story and that’s why you listened to see how they got out of their troubles. Although sometimes she wondered why she bothered. The sun seemed quite hot when she went out again and what with that and

digging, it was unbearable. She pulled off the sweater and hung it on a currant bush'and unhooked the bib of her denims. The next time she ran inside it was to cook Mr,! Edgar’s dinner, but it was 12.30 and sitmply too late for anything but sausages. Thank goodness there were sausages and they cooked quickly. Anyhow, what a shame to stay inside cooking 6n a day like this when she could cook a good dinner late. in the afternoon when she couldn’t be outside. The sausages were barely cooked when Mr, Edgar walked in. "What you been up to Lil, your face is pretty red." "Been gardening," said Lil, holding out the sides of her suit as proof, "Ha," said Mr. Edgar, "pretty fit, eh Lil?" "I’m that sorry dear," said Mrs. Edgar, "but I just didn’t seem to get in in time to cook real dinner, -but I'll make you something extra special to-night." — "Aw, that’s all right. What's wrong with a sausage I’d like to know?" Mrs. Edgar agreed quickly that there certainly was nothing wrong with a good sausage. They ate their sausages with tomato sauce and had bread and butter and tea, and then Mrs, Edgar remembered she might have some pikelets left over from the day before, not stale yet. They chatted amiably of this and that and Mr. Edgar remarked that his wife would probably not remember where her jersey was, but that he could see it from the window, hanging on a bush. Mrs. Edgar knew it was there and would be out again this afternoon in the garden. "Making a day of it, old girl," said Mr.. Edgar. "Well, you know ... " said Mrs, Edgar. Mr. Edgar went to the small mirror behind the kitchen sink and looked at his teeth very seriously. THe drew his top lip right up. under his nose. "You won't forget to cook a big pot of spuds for the hens?" he said. Mr, Edgar had grown sick to death of egg shoftages and had bought 25 hens at auction and turned his old motor bike shed into a hen house, Z "Oh, Lord no, I’ll put on right away," said Mrs. Edgar. bag bd ok HEN Mr, Edgar left for work again, his wife thought she would sweep and tidy the sitting room... . just in case... . but she went right outside with the to sweep some soil off the path first. Then she started to ‘weed, and left the broom resting in a japonica tree. Really, the rununculuy were — ing up wonderfully. well. Ry Much leter, she head the gate ‘click and saw her old friend ne ‘coming in. Miss Fry of ‘all r. Edgar called her Miss Pry. low aris was coming up the path darting her head from ‘side to side in case she missed anything. (continued on next page)

(continued from previous page) "Well, this is a pleasant surprise," said Mrs. Edgar, brushing her knees, "and such a lovely day." "That’s why I came," said Miss Fry. "Too lovely to stay inside... . I just said to Father .... Father I said...." Mrs. Edgar was wondering how she could keep Miss Fry out of the kitchen, and if the sitting room was as messy as she thought it was. Miss Fry was busy unwrapping a huge newspaper parcel and disclosed four minute lupin plants. "Beautiful, beautiful," said Mrs. Edgar, and without a moment’s hesitation knew exactly where they would look best. They had to walk round the garden and see everything. Mrs. Edgar pointed out the daffodils just poking through, but Miss Fry saw the moss in the lawn. She was like that. She saw the lemon trees were frosted and would die, and that the grubs were eating the winter roses. She even swept far enough afield to see that the clothes \post had almost rotted off at the ground and

soon Mrs. Edgar’s wash would fall in the mud. She ran her eyes all over the place and made it feel shabby. "You must be tired," said Mrs. Edgar, "Do come right in and I'll light the fire and make some tea." Miss Fry wasn’t cold and she hadn't really come for tea, but it did get chilly after a walk and a fire was always so friendly, and she always thought tea was really morg of a social habit than a need. Mrs. Edgar furtively pushed as many sheets of newspaper as she could under the sofa, and swept up the worst mess in the hearth while coaxing the-fire to burn. Miss Fry stayed on talking about her family, her neighbours, the tradespeople, the rationing and the cost of everything, until it was really time she must go. Mrs. Edgar said she would just tidy herself and come along for a walk too, as she had to change her books at the Regent. While Mrs. Edgar was tidying, Miss Fry saw all the things she had to miss whilst talking. The brass tray hadn’t been polished for months by the look of it. "Ready, dear?" she asked brightly. They walked along the streets, looking over fences at gardens and remembering how the trees flowered so well

last Spring. When they parted at Miss Fry’s gate it was on the cry of "Do come again soon," and "Oh, but it’s your turn next time." x Bs v RS. EDGAR almost san home in her anxiety to think up something extra special for dinner, and it was so late. Without taking off her hat or coat, she hurried up a scratch dinner and just had it cooked by 6.30. Then she took off her outdoor things, fluffed -up her hair and relaxed with a copy of Modern Masterpieces and a cigarette. She heard Mr. Edgar upon the path and put a nice bright look on her face. The door opened and Mr. Edgar came in. "You've let the fire go out," he said. "Oh, so I have. I really lit it this afternoon for my visitor and it went out while I was taking her home." "So you had a visitor?" "Yes, just Miss Fry." "Miss Fry . ... when’d she come?" "It’s a wonder you didn’t meet her on the street. Just after you left."

"Well, you needn’t have let the fire out." "And it’s just a wonder there’s any dinner for you. I had such a rush last thing . . ... walking home with Miss pn aes "Did you have to?" "You know how nervous she is." "I never knew she had any nerves . . nerves be blowed." "That’s what makes her so irritating." "Do I smell those brussels sprouts again for dinner .... you know I hate the things." "Oh, Bill, you don’t really, you just feel in a bad mood." "I’ve said before I don’t like them and I don’t. You could surely have put a log on and kept the fire going." "Come on, let’s have dinner and you'll feel better," said Mrs. Edgar brightly, going into the kitchen. Mr. Edgar followed and lifted a lid off a pot and peered in. "Not blancmange." : "Well I had a few prunes over from yesterday and thought it would be nice to go with them." "Of all things, blancmange ... . blancmange. . . ." "Well, I think the ham is nice." (continued on next page)

SHORT STORY

(continued from .previous page) "Miss Fry have any gossip?" "Nothing much. Family, doctors, relations mostly." "And you mean to say you sat all afternoon talking about that and then walked her home?" x * % ‘THEY ate their meal in silence and Mr. Edgar left his sprouts built into a pyramid on his ‘plate. "I was going to say to you," said Mrs. Edgar, "that we'd take that book back to the Clements to-night, but I won't ask you tow when you are in that mood." "Me in a bad mood. It’s the other way about." "Ever since you came in," said Mrs. Edgar. "Did you cook the spuds for the hens?" "Goodness, no. I told you Miss Fry came in as soon gs you'd gone and I never had a chance with her about." "Did you feed the hens at all then," Mr. Edgar almost shouted. "Of course, Two tins of wheat before I left with Miss Fry." "It's a wonder. It’s just a wonder, And how many eggs?" Mr. Edgar pulled out his pocket diary where he kept the egg tally. He wanted to see if hen-keeping paid. "I forgot»to gather them," said Mrs. Edgar. "It’s all you’ve got to do, Lil, and then you can't." : "IT like that," said Mrs. Edgar -stiffly. % ‘* i RS. EDGAR washed up and tidied the kitchen. When she went to sweep ‘the floor she couldn't find the broom. That would give Bill something to growl about if he knew she’d lost the broom now. She lifted a shovel of embers from the range and carried them to the sitting room fire and soon has a blaze. Mr. Edgar stretched out on the sofa and opened his paper. "It’s very dark," said Mrs. Edgar, "but I am+going to Clements by myself and I'll just have to take the torch." "Do what you like, but I’m staying by Ahe fire to read the paper all evening, ‘that’s what I’m doing." "Of course I don’t suppose you realise that you are terribly selfish," said Mrs. Edgar. ‘Selfish, eh? Just because I won't go cahooting round all night with you after T've been out all day: You’d never be at home if you got half a chance. Why can’t you be’content like me. Sit and read." "You seem to forget I’m here all day by myself and what company are you at nights, reading your beastly old paper. You resent my visitors, but you never tell me anything yourself." "Now, Lil, don’t work yourself up. Course ' like you to have visitors and go out and have a good time." "Looks very like it," said Mrs. Edgar. "I know what I’d do with these strikers," said Mr. Edgar sternly, "I'd lock ’em all up. What they want is discipline. . . ." "You never bring home any news from work, you never tell me anything." "Never tell you anything. ... Good God, woman, aren’t I just telling you about these strikers."

"Oh, you just want a lot of sheep. No individuality or self-expression. I expect the bosses are just like you. Want everything your own way." "Gosh, Lil, they say taxation is now 9/- in the pound and in 1935... ." "Look, I don’t care if it’s 19/- in the pound," ' % Fa % MBS. EDGAR_ put on her coat again and wound a scarf carefully round her head, then she flicked the torch on and off to see if it worked. "The whole trouble with you women is that you aren’t interested in anything," said Mr. Edgar. Mrs. Edgar went out without saying good-bye and only hoped he would follow her and see how dark it was and be sorry. But he didn’t. Over at Clements they were all very bright and gay. "Where's Bill?" said Mr. Clements. "Bill didn’t just seem quite himself to-night," said. Mrs. Edgar thoughtfully, "Like he might be sickening for something. I thought he would be better by the fire." "Lot of it going about," said Clements. When: Mis. Edgar thought she ought to be getting back to see how Bill was, Mr, C!ements wouldn’t hear of her going alone, but took her right to the gate, although he wouldn’t come on in and see Bill. He said Mrs. Edgar must come over again soon, they'd had a jolly time. Mrs, Edgar said that ‘it had been a very jolly time and that she certainly would love to come again soon. It did one good to get about. Mr. Edgar was still reading the same paper when she went inside. "Well, how’d the visit go?" "Very nice indeed, thank you. Mr, Clements very kindly brought me home." "What, that old geezer," said Mr. Edgar. J "Yes, I had a very nice time," said Mrs. Edgar slowly. "Why didn’t you stay longer then," said Mr. Edgar. 5 % " a RS. EDGAR sat down away from the fire and picked up a weekly which she had already seen, and went carefully through it again looking at all the society wedding photos and wondering if they were all perfectly happy,-It took quite a time to look through it. Mr. Edgar moved to put another log on and she saw he had been sitting on The Listener and so she had forgotten to listen in to a play she had particularly wanted to hear. If he. hadn’t sat on The Listener on purpose she certainly would- have remembered to listen, That would give him something to laugh at, if he knew. Suddenly she felt quite tired and decided to go to bed. What a day. Spring too. She filled the hotty at the range and went off, banging the door with great finality. ' She lay on her side and saw the stars through the unblinded window. » They seemed to hang in the plum tree like Christmas decorations. Someday of course she would die. Her will was lying about somewhere. She must make a few new clauses or what did they call them, cod. .. . codicles or codicils. Like codas (continued on next page) ,

(continued from previous page) on the end of music. She would say that all her wedding presents must go back to the donors. And then she must write a letter to be opened if she died suddenly and it would be all the things Bill would have to do because she couldn’t possibly arrange things once she was dead. About what nighty. Bill wouldn’t know. He wouldn’t even know about flowers, One should be prepared ---it was only fair. She would never see the silver birch tree grow to the 30 feet the shopman had told her of, and never eat one of the walnuts off her own trees. One planted for posterity. She hoped someone would remember who planted them and whose garden it was. A plaque would be nice. But what would Bill do without her. Goodness® there was nothing worth getting annoyed about when you thought that some day they would all be dead. When Bill came to bed she would just put her arm round him and say, "How’d we start being mad tonight before dinner, darling?" and they’d both laugh. Be % * SHE heard the door close into the hall and Mr. Edgar was in the *bathroom and making such a hoise. Really, you'd never think there was anyone in the house trying to sleep. Some people had absolutely no consideration for others. Did he have to gargle too? When he came into the bedroom he switched on the light without a thought and the. very

bed shook with his heavy tread. Oh, really. When he jumped into bed he let all the cold outside air in with him and tried to pull the blankets away from the foot of the bed. Mrs. Edgar gave a small but prolonged moan. Contrary to her expectations, Mrs. Edgar must have slept, as she had a dreadful dream about income tax. She thought it was 9/- in the pound and she and Bill were in gaol because they had no money to pay it. But "it wasn’t really the dream that wakened her, it was Mr. Edgar who had pulled all the blankets off her as he leaned over the side of the bed in the half dark to see the time on the alarm clock. "I never knew anyone take so long to tell the time," thought Mrs. Edgar, as the clothes remained twisted tightly under Mr. Edgar’s rolling figure. "Well, it’s morning, Lil," said Mr. Edgar in a nice friendly voice. a | a really?" said Mrs. Edgar and thought how dry her throat was and that her head ached rather. Then she remembered everything-the lovely Spring day and the garden and Miss Fry and the hens and Bill. She had to make a quick decision. To be very polite and stiff and unforgiving and so heap up a misunderstanding for days, or... . She leaned over and took Mr. Edgar’s face between her two hands and kissed him warmly. His nose got in the way rather, and his chin pricked her.

"Precious," said Mr, Edgar, "Time to get up." ue v% at RS. EDGAR watched the sun turn the clouds crimson. . . "Red sky in the morning . .. warning. . ." The four birds arrived again for the morning toilet in the plum tree. She would make a very fruity steam pudding, boil it four hours, and stuff the steak for a nice change. It was good and peaceful lying stretched right across the bed with birds chirping outside and Bill chirping in the kitchen. Usually he had his breakfast end shouted good-bye and was off before Mrs. Edgar got up, but this morning he came through with a red tray. "Where on earth do you hide the tea, couldn’t find it anywhere." "Silly Bill, it’s a new packet’ just in the cupboard where it always is. I didn’t get time to refill the caddy yesterday." "Oh, well, I just made you a nice cup of cocoa and’ toast," This was an overture of the first magnitude in the parlance of matrimony where, if one were in the wrong, one never apologised. One performed some noble and loving act. It was a cup of cocoa. To start the morning with a heavy cup of cocoa with too\much sugar in it, when she already had a headache, was the demand reconciliation put upon Mrs. Edgar. She smiled brightly. "What a marvellous husband I’ve got," said Mrs. Edgar,

"Have a nice lie-in and then get up and go right out into the garden and leave everything," said Mr. Edgar, going the whole way. "Well, do you know, Bill, I think yesterday was just a false Spring," said Mrs, Edgar. .