Sparrows Part 93

CHAPTER THIRTY

THE "PERMANENT"

When Mavis regained a semblance of consciousness, something soft and warm lay on her heart. Jill was watching her with anxious eyes. A queer little female figure stood beside the bed.

"Better, dear?" asked this person.

"Where's Mrs Gowler?" whispered Mavis.

"She got tired of waiting, so I came in. I've been here a hour" (she p.r.o.nounced the aspirate).

"Who are you?" asked Mavis.

"I'm the 'permanent.'"

"The what?"

"The 'permanent': at least, that's what they call me here. But you mustn't talk. You've 'ad a bad time."

"Is it a boy or a girl?" asked Mavis.

"A boy. Don't say no more."

Mavis did not know if she were pleased or otherwise with the s.e.x of her child; she could only thankfully realise that she was free from torment. She lay back, enjoying to the full her delicious comparative ease, before lifting the bed clothes to press her lips against her baby's head. She held it closer to her heart as she realised that its father was the man she loved. Although the woman who had introduced herself as the "permanent" had told Mavis not to talk, she did not set the example of silence. While she busied herself about and in and out of the room, she talked incessantly, chiefly about herself. For a long time, Mavis was too occupied with her own thoughts to pay any attention to what she was saying. Before she listened to the woman's gossip, she was more intent on taking in the details of her appearance. Mavis could not make up her mind whether she was young, old, or middle-aged; she might so easily have been one of these. Her face was not unpleasant, although her largish dark eyes were quite close to her snub nose, over which the eyebrows met. Her expression was that of good-natured simplicity, while her movements and manner of speaking betrayed great self-consciousness, the result of an immense personal vanity. She was soon to be a mother.

"It's my eighth, and all by different fathers," she told Mavis, who wondered at the evident pride with which the admission was made, till the woman added: "When you have had eight, and all by different fathers, it proves how the gentlemen love you."

Mavis, for all her exhaustion, could not help smiling at the ingenuousness of the "permanent's" point of view. Seeing Mavis smile, the woman laughed also, but her hilarity was inspired by self-conscious pride.

"P'raps you wonder what's become of the little dears. Three's dead, two's 'dopted, an' two is paid for at five bob a week by the gentlemen," she informed Mavis. She then asked: "I'spose this is your first?"

Mavis nodded.

"My! You're a baby at it. I 'spect I'll have a dozen to your six."

Presently, she spoke of Mrs Gowler.

"I've had every kid here, all seven of 'em, before the one I'm 'spectin' on Sunday. That's why Piggy calls me the 'permanent.' Do you like Piggy?"

Mavis moved her head in a way that could either be interpreted as a nod or a negative shake.

"I don't care for her very much, though I must say that so long as you locks up yer things, and don't take notice of what she says or does when she's drunk, she's always quite the lady."

Mavis, for all her growing weariness, smiled.

"Do you know why I reely come here?" asked the "permanent." "'Cause I love Piggy's son, Oscar. Oh, he is that comic! He do make me laugh so, I never can see enough of him. Don't you love looking at Oscar?"

Mavis shook her head.

"Don't you think him comic?"

"No," whispered Mavis.

"Go h'on! But there, I nearly forgot!"

The "permanent" left the room, at which Mavis closed her eyes, thankful for a few moments' peace.

"Take this cornflour," said a voice at her elbow: the "permanent" had brought her a basinful of this food. "I made it meself, 'cause Piggy always burns it, an' Oscar puts his fingers in it."

"You're very kind," murmured Mavis.

"Hold yer jaw," remarked the "permanent" with mock roughness.

Mavis gratefully swallowed the stuff, to feel the better for it. When she had finished the last drop, she lay back to watch the "permanent,"

who arranged the room for the night. Candle, matches, and milk were put handy for Mavis to reach; an old skirt was put down for Jill; bed and pillows were made comfortable.

"If you want me, I'm in the left top front with Mrs Rabbidge."

"Not alone?" asked Mavis.

"Not me. Give me company when I 'ave kids. I'll bring yer tea in the morning."

Whatever misfortunes the fates had reserved for Mavis, they had endowed her with a magnificent const.i.tution; consequently, despite the indifferent nursing, the incompetent advice, the ill-cooked food, she quickly recovered strength. Hourly she felt better, although the nursing of her baby was a continuous tax upon her vitality. Following the "permanent's" advice, who was an old hand in such matters, Mavis kept quite still and did not exert herself more than she could possibly help. But although her body was still, her mind was active. She fretted because she had received no reply to her last little letter to Perigal.

Morning and evening, which was the time when she had been accustomed to get letters from Wales, she would wait in a fever of anxiety till the post arrived; when it brought no letter for her, she suffered acute distress of mind.

Upon the fifth evening after her baby was born, Mrs Gowler thrust an envelope beneath her door shortly after the postman had knocked. It was a yellow envelope, on which was printed "On His Majesty's Service."

Mavis tore it open, to find her own letter to Perigal enclosed, which was marked "Gone, no address." A glance told her that it had been correctly addressed.

When, an hour later, Mrs Gowler came up to see if she wanted anything, she saw that Mavis was far from well. She took her hand and found it hot and dry.

"Does yer 'ead ache?" she asked of Mavis, whose eyes were wide open and staring.

"It's awful."

"If you're no better in the morning, you'd better 'ave a shillingsworth of Baldock."

If anything, Mavis was worse on the morrow. She had pa.s.sed a restless night, which had been troubled with unpleasantly vivid dreams; moreover, the first post had brought no letter for her.

"Got a shillin'?" asked Mrs Gowler after she had made some pretence of examining her.

"What for?" asked Mavis.

"Doctor's fee. You'll be bad if you don't see 'im."