Chapter Four

At Home

 

Mrs Thursby, Roger’s widowed mother, was, she hoped, making a cake when Roger arrived home after his first day as a pupil.

‘Darling, how nice,’ she said. ‘You can give it a stir. I want to go and try on a new dress. Aunt Ethel sent it me. She’s only worn it once. Just keep on stirring. I’m sure it’ll be all right. Anyway, we can always give it to Mrs Rhodes. Oh, no, she doesn’t come any more. Let me see, who is it now–’

‘Mother, darling,’ said Roger, ‘I’ve had my first day in the Temple.’

‘Of course, darling, how silly of me. Did you enjoy it? I won’t be a moment. Just keep on stirring.’

And Mrs Thursby went to her bedroom. She was a young forty-eight. She had lost her husband soon after Roger was born. For some reason that neither she nor Roger, after he grew up, could understand, she had never married again. She was attractive and kind and plenty of men have no objection to butterfly minds. Roger’s father, who had been a man of the highest intelligence and intellectual capacity, had adored her. So did Roger.

He stirred the mixture in the pudding bowl and as he did so he went over in his mind all that had happened during the day. Now that he was safely home it gave him a considerable thrill to think he had actually spoken in Court. He must tell his mother, though she wouldn’t really take in the significance. But he must tell Sally and Joy. Which first? He stopped stirring and went to the telephone. It was Joy’s turn really, he supposed.

‘Joy – yes, it’s me. Are you free this evening? I’ve quite a lot to tell you. Oh – what a shame. Can’t you come and have a drink first? Yes, do, that’ll be lovely. Come straight over. See you in ten minutes.’

He went back to the kitchen.

‘Roger,’ called his mother, ‘do come and look.’

He went to her bedroom.

‘It’s lovely, isn’t it? And I did need one so badly. I can wear it for the Fotheringays. Don’t you like it?’

‘I do, darling. D’you know I spoke in Court today?’

‘Did you really, darling? How very nice. What exactly did you say? Don’t you like the way the skirt seems to come from nowhere?’

‘It suits you to a T.’

‘D’you really think so?’

‘Of course I do. I didn’t actually say very much.’

‘No, of course not. They couldn’t expect very much to begin with. I expect you’ll say more tomorrow.’

‘Joy’s coming round for a drink. You don’t mind?’

‘Of course not. I think she’s a sweet girl. It makes me look thinner, doesn’t it?’

At last Joy arrived and Roger was able to tell someone all about his first day.

‘I think you’re wonderful,’ said Joy. ‘I should love to come and hear you. When can I?’

‘Well, of course, I don’t know exactly when I shall be speaking again.’

‘Was it a murder case?’

‘Well – no, as a matter of fact.’

‘Breach of promise?’

‘As a matter of fact, it was a building dispute.’

‘It sounds terribly dull. Weren’t you bored?’

The one thing Roger had not been was bored.

‘You see, things which don’t sound of interest to the layman are very interesting to lawyers.’

‘I don’t think I should terribly care to hear a building dispute. All about houses and things. Still, I suppose you have to start somewhere. Must take time to work up to a murder case.’

‘Joy, dear, you don’t work up to a murder case.’

‘But surely, Roger, you’re wrong. I’ve always understood you start with silly things like debt collecting and business cases, like your building dispute, I suppose, and eventually work your way into real cases like murder and blackmail and divorce and so on. Anyway, what did you say? Did you make the jury cry? It must have been very clever of you if you did with a building dispute. But then you are so clever, Roger, that I wouldn’t put it past you.’

‘They don’t have juries with Official Referees.’

‘Sounds like football.’

‘Well, it isn’t. An Official Referee is a judge. You call him “Your Honour”. He’s very important. This one was called Sir Hugo Cramp.’

‘Well, what did you say to him?’

‘Well, among other things – I quoted a legal maxim to him. He thanked me very much.’

‘Did it win you your case?’

‘Well, it wasn’t exactly my case.’ He paused for a moment. Then very seriously he said: ‘Joy, d’you think I’ll ever be any good? I was terribly frightened.’

‘You frightened? I can’t believe it. You’re pulling my leg.’

‘I’m not. Really, Joy, I’m not.’

‘What’s frightening about it? You just get up and say what you want and then sit down.’

‘And suppose you don’t know what to say?’

‘Then don’t get up.’

‘But I had to.’

‘But I don’t see why. It’s a free country. Anyway, next time make certain what you want to say, get up and say it and sit down.’

‘You make it sound very simple.’

‘Well, Uncle Alfred’s a solicitor. Which reminds me – I suppose he might send you a brief one day. Would you like that, Roger?’

‘Oh, Joy, it would be wonderful.’

‘What would you do if I get Uncle Alfred to send you a brief?’

‘What would you like me to do?’

‘There’s something I’d like you not to do.’

‘What?’

‘Not see Sally.’

‘Oh,’ said Roger, unhappily. ‘D’you think that’s quite fair?’

‘It’s just as you like. I’m sure Uncle Alfred has got lots of young men to send briefs to. He’ll bear up.’

‘But, Joy dear, it’s so difficult. And it wouldn’t be fair to Sally.’

‘That’s right, dear – always the little unselfish one, thinking of other people. You’re too good for this world.’

‘Who are you going out with, anyway?’

‘A friend of mine.’

‘So I gathered. Do I know him?’

‘Who said it was a him?’

‘I did. Who is it?’

‘D’you want to know all that much?’

‘Not if you don’t want to tell me.’

‘Then why ask me?’

‘Oh, Joy – don’t let’s quarrel. It’s my first day at the Bar. And I want you to share it with me.’

‘I’d love to share it with you – but not with you and Sally.’

‘I rang you before her.’

‘You went out with her last night.’

‘How d’you know?’

‘Now I know you did. Oh, Roger, why can’t we just be married and live happily ever after?’

‘We’re so young, Joy. We don’t any of us know our minds yet. I’d marry you both if I could.’

‘Thanks very much. P’raps you’d like power to add to our number. It’s George Utterson as a matter of fact.’

‘That oaf.’

‘He’s not in the least an oaf. He’s going to be Prime Minister one of these days. He’s not frightened to talk in public. I heard him at a meeting the other day. He was grand. They applauded like anything.’ She stopped for a moment. Then much more softly she said, ‘Oh, Roger, if you’d give up Sally – I’d never see him again. I wouldn’t even see him tonight.’