Lottie stared out of the window of the waiting room in Dr Carson’s consultancy rooms in central Wellington, gazing down at the people passing in the street outside and wondering if she’d done the right thing. She felt tense and nervous but, above all she had, as Miss Carson had urged her, thought about her father, under forty and already an old man.
Even the prospect of coming to see the doctor had bucked him up. He had shaved, dressed carefully and neatly, though in a threadbare suit, and there was the suspicion of a spring in his step as he ventured outside and walked to the tram stop at the corner of the street. It was the longest journey he had made for some time. He had looked with interest out of the window of the tram, as though seeing things for the first time, and commented on how much the city had changed since he had last been there.
Yet she felt that once again they had put themselves in a position of dependency on the Carsons. After her interview with Miss Carson she had gone back to the school to take leave of other staff and her friends, an emotional time, and told Miss Carson that she would accept her offer to see her father and they were grateful for it. She also said that she would continue to accept money from her for the time being so long as it was understood that when she was in a position to do so she would pay it all back.
Soon after that had come the letter from Dr Carson, inviting her father for a consultation.
Her father had been in the consulting room for a long time and she was beginning to feel anxious when the door opened and the doctor’s receptionist beckoned to her, inviting Lottie to follow her, which she did down a long corridor and then into a large, sunlit room. Her father was sitting in front of his desk as Dr Carson got up to greet her, shaking hands politely and inviting her to sit down.
Then he returned to his chair and, joining his hands in front of him, looked first at her, then at her father. Dr Carson was a tall, pleasant, kindly-looking, grey-haired man of about fifty-five or so, not stern-faced and formidable as she had somehow expected from her limited knowledge of the medical profession. His daughters resembled him, but his son took after his mother.
‘Now, Miss O’Brien, thank you for bringing your father to see me. I am very glad you did.’
He looked kindly at Desmond who, appearing very relaxed, smiled back.
‘I have given him a very thorough examination and want him to have further tests at the hospital, but as far as I can ascertain there is nothing seriously amiss with Mr O’Brien – physically, that is.’
Dr Carson rose from his desk and began to pace about the room, one hand in his trouser pocket, another resting on his brow as if in thought, so that he could choose his words carefully. ‘During the war which, as we know, was a terrible one, the casualties were not only physical resulting in death and injury but mental, too. A lot of men suffered from what we came to know as neurasthenia or shell shock. That is the effect their experiences had on their minds.’ Now Dr Carson looked up as if he had resolved a problem and then sat down again. ‘From what your father has told me with some emotion, I hope he won’t mind me saying, I know that the war did have a very profound effect on him and he has been haunted by many of the dreadful sights he saw which he hasn’t been able to get out of his mind. isn’t that right, Mr O’Brien?’
Desmond nodded vigorously. ‘Indeed, sir, it is.’
‘He experienced many terrible things and remembers that he went all through the war with very little respite. I consider his behaviour, along with that of all his comrades, quite heroic. In fact, there are many men here in New Zealand who are similarly afflicted and what bears on their minds has an effect on their physical health, as it undoubtedly has on your father. But now we know that this can be treated by procedures which have been adopted in hospitals all over the world as well as here in New Zealand, and I am sure that when this is taken care of your father’s physical condition will improve enormously and he will be partly, if not fully, restored to health. Believe me, I am very familiar with this syndrome. I have been over to England and America to study it, where a lot of work has been done, and there are steps we can put in place immediately.’
He concluded with such a beaming and reassuring smile as he stood up that Lottie, noting how her father smiled back, felt she could have almost wept with relief, such was the great burden being lifted from her.
It felt strange to be returning to the school and yet no longer part of it. Strange and sad. But Lottie was nothing if not practical, and had become even more so since she had been in charge of running the house. Her decision had been inevitable and she knew she had no choice, but it was still a wrench as she waited outside her old classroom, hoping to catch Miss Carson before she picked up Bella, who now normally had to make her own way home from school.
Finally the school bell rang and a few minutes later the classroom door opened and the pupils poured out, many of them not noticing her in the scrum, some of them stopping to stare and a few to greet her warmly and ask if she was coming back.
‘No,’ she said, at last pushing past them and tentatively popping her head inside the classroom where Miss Carson sat in her usual place behind her high desk, a pile of exercise books in front of her.
‘Lottie!’ Miss Carson cried as she saw her and, stepping down from her chair, hurried towards her as she came into the room.
‘Hello,’ Lottie said shyly, not quite knowing how to greet her – a handshake, a kiss on the cheek now that their relationship had changed? Instead she did neither but went on: ‘I do hope you don’t mind me popping in. I just came to pick up Bella.’
‘Of course I don’t mind,’ Miss Carson said, drawing her to a chair in the usual place behind a desk in the front row and sitting alongside her. ‘I’m delighted to see you. I miss you. We all do.’ She leaned forward eagerly. ‘Now, tell me, how have you been?’
‘Fine.’ Lottie smiled reassuringly. ‘But the reason I am here is to thank you for asking your father to see Dad. I should have thanked you before, but it has been a busy time and I now have a job.’
‘Back at Kirkcaldies?’
‘Yes, still in the stockroom, but things may improve later on. If they don’t I’ll look for something else. The money you send is a big help.’ She looked at her gratefully but Miss Carson waved a hand dismissively.
‘And tell me, how is your father?’
‘The improvement to Dad in such a short time has been quite remarkable. He has been making his own way to hospital for these tests and the sessions he has with a psychiatrist which are shared by other ex-soldiers. He didn’t know they existed and he is beginning to make friends. They go to a club for veterans: the RSA, the Returned Veterans’ Association. At first it was not easy, but recently there has been more progress and he feels more confident. He used to sit in the same chair day after day, but is now more active and even does some shopping.’
‘That is very good news.’ Miss Carson studied her face searchingly for a few moments. ‘And you, Lottie? Are you happy?’
‘I am quite happy,’ Lottie said, not entirely truthfully. ‘I miss school, of course, but it was something I had to do so I don’t have any regrets.’
‘And you can keep on with your reading.’
‘I do when I have time. Not much, I’m afraid, but I like Katherine Mansfield.’
Miss Carson smiled with satisfaction. ‘I thought you would. Violet was going to come and see you, but she has been busy too with exams. I’m afraid she might not be cut out as a teacher, but she perseveres with lots of encouragement from me. Look, Lottie, now that your mother is no longer with you, wouldn’t it be all right for you to come and see us again? Violet especially would like it so much, and I think you are a good influence on her.’
‘Me?’ Lottie looked at her with astonishment.
‘Yes, in many ways. Your dedication to hard work. Your commitment and maturity. Violet is too fond of shopping and having a good time.’ Miss Carson shook her head regretfully.
For a moment Lottie looked thoughtful. Then, as if realizing that she was now free to do what she liked, said, ‘I don’t know about my influence on Violet, but I do like her and would like that very much.’
‘How about next Sunday? Would that be a good day for you?’
‘I think that would be lovely.’
‘One of us will come and get you.’
‘Don’t worry, I can find my own way. I can take a tram if need be.’
Reminded of Lottie’s defiantly independent streak, Miss Carson concurred.
‘About three?’
Lottie stood gazing out of Violet’s bedroom window at the bare-looking lawn without its deckchairs and the deserted tennis court, the net rolled up for the winter. Behind her Violet was riffling through her wardrobe and kept turning to Lottie and showing her various dresses which she wanted her to have. Lottie, though not ungrateful, felt rather apathetic about the whole thing. However well-intentioned she felt that the Carsons somehow couldn’t help demeaning her. They didn’t mean to, she was sure, but there it was and it jarred. She had avoided taking the tram and walked all the way to the house on a chilly winter’s day with, unusually, a light dusting of snow topping the distant hills, and when she had arrived an hour earlier a warm welcome had awaited her. The door was opened by a smiling Miss Carson, who gave her a quick embrace and then led her along the wide hall to the lounge where Mrs Carson hurried towards her and kissed her on the cheek and Violet hugged her.
Suddenly and unexpectedly, her apprehension had vanished and she felt that it was nice to be back, almost as one of the family.
This, after all, was the house and the family of the miracle man who had put her father on the road to recovery.
They had had tea round the fire, just the four of them. Hugh, Mrs Carson explained, was away continuing his studies at the medical school in Dunedin. The atmosphere was cosy and relaxed and the chat was normal and everyday about the weather and the fact that broadcasting had recently started in New Zealand. The Carsons were hoping to be among the few people to acquire a wireless set, still a rarity. Her husband, Mrs Carson said, needed one for his work. Lottie then told them how grateful she was to Dr Carson for doing so much for her father and what an improvement there had already been in his health.
After tea Violet invited her to come upstairs, saying rather mysteriously that she had something to show her and when they were in her bedroom explained how she had too many clothes and wondered if Lottie would be interested? ‘Not cast-offs,’ Violet added quickly. ‘Some of them I’ve hardly worn.’
Lottie smiled, thinking of the times she had seen Violet leaving the store laden with parcels, and recalled her one good dress, which was still all she had. But, with it, the doubt returned, the suspicion that once again she was being patronized, and she had gone to the window and gazed broodingly out over the lawn, the scene of so much in the summer. She mentally visualized the vigorous activity on the tennis court, but more importantly, something that lingered in her mind: Miss Carson and the captain kissing so passionately by the pool, which had introduced her in an immediate and unexpected way to the meaning of carnal love that, in the hostility of her parents’ marriage, she had not witnessed before.
Violet turned from the wardrobe, a dress in her hand and, crossing the room, held it against Lottie. ‘This will suit you very well.’
It was the latest fashion: mid-calf, dropped waist with short sleeves and a round neckline in a soft, floral-patterned fabric.
Lottie gasped. ‘Me? Wherever would I wear it?’
‘Oh, you know, to a party. Try it on. We’re all having our hair cut now.’ She patted her neat bob.
‘I never go to parties,’ Lottie said, but to be polite she tried the dress on and, indeed, it suited her perfectly as she turned and swirled in front of the mirror.
‘It’s you,’ Violet said firmly. ‘And the first party to wear it to might well be Madeleine and Andy’s wedding. They’re sure to invite you.’
Lottie looked surprised. ‘Is it soon?’
‘Maybe. Date not quite decided but Andy might be posted abroad and she would like to go with him.’
Lottie took off the dress and put it on the bed. ‘Well, if you’re sure, yes, I’d like it very much.’
Violet perched on the bed. ‘How are things with you, Lottie? I mean, really? Madeleine did tell us that your mother left home. Has it been very difficult for you, or is that a silly thing to ask?’
Lottie sat on the bed beside her. ‘It has been difficult, of course. Everything for a time was upside down. We always relied on Mum. I hadn’t realized how much. So I had to leave school and find work. Kirkcaldies have let me stay on at my old job which is fine for the time being. They say economically things are very difficult.’
‘We’re protected from it all,’ Violet said, sighing. ‘Sometimes I feel unduly privileged, Daddy having a good job and not threatened with unemployment like so many people. I am not madly keen on teaching, to be honest. I’m afraid Madeleine is worried that I might be an idler and is insisting I take my exams.’
‘I think she’s right,’ Lottie said. ‘Then whatever happens you’ll be set up in a profession. I should go. With only Bella and Dad at home I have to look after them.’ She glanced down at the dress. ‘If you’re sure?’
‘Sure.’ Violet also stood. ‘I’ll take you home.’
‘There’s no need, thanks.’
‘Please,’ Violet began, but suddenly Lottie snapped, weary of so many well-meaning attempts by the Carsons to improve her life: inviting her to their affluent home, offering her clothes, the help of their father. Unable to stop herself – and to her subsequent regret – she sprang up from the bed on which they were sitting and turned on an astonished Violet.
‘Don’t patronize me, please, Violet. I got here by myself and I can get home by myself. I know you don’t mean to but you do, you all do, and by the way,’ she looked down at the garment still lying on the bed, ‘I don’t really want that dress. I shall never wear it and, frankly, I don’t think it is me. I think it’s you.’
She crossed the room and, opening the door, went swiftly down the stairs, bumping into Mrs Carson, who had just come out of the sitting room.
‘Oh, there you are, Lottie. Did you girls have a nice chat?’
‘Very nice, thank you, Mrs Carson,’ Lottie said, reaching for her coat lying on a chair. ‘But I really must go now. Dad and Bella are waiting for their tea.’
‘But Lottie, we’ve hardly seen you.’
‘I’ve enjoyed it, I really have.’ There was an air of urgency about her, as if she feared someone would try and stop her leaving the house, and she edged towards the front door, still speaking. ‘But really, I must go now. Thank Miss Carson for me.’
And just as Madeleine appeared at the door of the sitting room Lottie, ignoring her, let herself out and ran down the steps towards the gate.
Madeleine looked with astonishment at her mother. ‘What on earth has happened?’
Mrs Carson was too surprised to speak as they both looked towards the stairs and at Violet, slowly descending.
‘Violet,’ her mother said sharply, ‘did something happen upstairs to upset Lottie?’
Violet, still shaken, shook her head as they walked back into the warmth of the sitting room. ‘I offered her one of my dresses. I said it wasn’t a cast-off and that I never wore it. She tried it on and it looked great on her. At first she said she’d take it and then suddenly she changed her mind and became quite agitated.’ Violet sank dejectedly into a chair. ‘She said she had to go and get tea for the family and I offered to drive her home. Suddenly she turned on me and said she didn’t want a lift, didn’t want the dress and felt patronized by us. It was quite an outburst, which shocked me. Then she ran to the door and that was that. She really is a very odd girl, interesting but odd. Difficult to fathom, really.’
For a moment there was silence as the other women digested what had happened. After a moment Madeleine walked to the window and stood looking out the way Lottie had gone. ‘Perhaps she’s right.’ She turned and faced her mother and sister with an air of resignation. ‘Perhaps we have patronized her. Perhaps the gulf separating us was too big and we didn’t realize just how big and how it affected Lottie, who is essentially a very proud and independent person, much older than her years. I don’t expect now that we shall ever see her again.’
‘I told you that you should be careful with her,’ Mrs Carson said a little primly, ‘long ago, and that you might regret it. Lottie is a dear, don’t misunderstand me, but after all, people like that aren’t quite like us, are they, dear, however much we might wish it?’
Lottie knew she had behaved badly, irrationally and that she had probably destroyed a friendship with Miss Carson and her family, who surely had only the best intentions? But the fact was that, with all chances of higher education abandoned, she was less like them than ever, regardless of what had happened since her last visit in the summer. There was a degree of familiarity that should have been there, but was still not. In fact, in a way it made it worse. It was when Violet sat down on the bed and asked her how things were that she realized that of course they knew all about her – how her mother had deserted them and she had had to leave school and go to work. Why, after all, did they want to be so nice to her? Why, for instance, had Miss Carson even singled her out from her other less well off pupils? She was grateful, but uncomfortable about feeling like an object of charity rather than an equal, one to whom they did good maybe to ease their conscience about their own very different circumstances. They had a big house, each had a motor car which still was very rare in Wellington, and Violet had so many dresses that she felt she had to give some away – to the deserving poor, perhaps? To her? Once again she had wished she hadn’t gone, and with it had come a violent need to flee. So she’d fled out of the house and down the steps and walked very quickly all the way home.
She didn’t imagine she would hear from the Carsons ever again after a display of such ingratitude, considering all that Dr Carson had done for her father.
After all, she had few friends. Her family had been her life and she had never liked to ask people to her home to see her depressed father, bad-tempered mother and the general state of poverty they lived in. She had withdrawn from most forms of social intercourse and the Carsons, who had offered her friendship, who had tried to envelope her in their life, had been rudely and severely rebuffed.
But what was done was done and, being a practical girl, Lottie tried to put all speculation about the Carsons and their inevitable reaction to her behaviour to one side. She had briefly toyed with the idea of writing to Miss Carson to apologize, but that would mean, she knew, they would make every effort to see her and the whole process would begin all over yet again.
To Miss Carson’s credit, the weekly envelope still continued to come through the letterbox with Lottie vowing even more to repay it as soon as she could.
So life settled down to a routine that was not unpleasant, that had for Lottie few highs but none of the terrible lows they had had with their mother. Gradually the memory of her as a person almost faded and they still had no idea where she and Jack had gone. Even Jack wasn’t missed as much as she had thought he would be. He was a dear boy, and she would always love him, but being so much younger he was peripheral to her life.
One day her father came home, appearing if anything even more cheerful and pleased with himself than he had been. There had been such a change in him in a relatively short time that the household was really much happier and a more pleasant place to be. In the evening when she got home after work her father was not slumped in his corner, having gone to his veterans’ club where he seemed to spend most of the day after the hospital.
Bella, too, had settled down, having seemingly abandoned the idea of leaving school early, and applied herself to her studies. Now that the atmosphere at home was much calmer and more conducive to work she was making rapid strides and had moved from near the bottom to the middle of the class, with the prospect of proceeding even further upwards.
Lottie was putting the tea on the table as her father appeared, shutting the door and standing there for a moment, looking at her. ‘Hello, Dad,’ she said cheerfully, ‘you look pleased with yourself. Had a good day?’
‘Very good,’ her father said, taking off his coat and hat, rubbing his hands and blowing on them. ‘I’ll be glad when this winter is over, but Lottie, I have some very good news to banish the winter blues.’
‘Oh?’ Lottie sat down opposite him, elbow on the table.
‘I saw Doctor Carson today,’ her father went on, ‘and he had all my medical reports and told me how pleased he was with my progress. My chest is almost clear now that I don’t smoke – they have forbidden it – and the psychiatrist thinks I am much improved, too, and I am.’
‘You are. That’s splendid news, Dad.’ Impulsively Lottie got up from her chair and kissed him on the cheek. For a moment he held her tightly against his chest, and she could feel the steady beat of his heart.
‘I do love you, Lottie,’ her father said, his voice cracking with emotion. ‘You have done so much for me and I have a lot to thank you and your friends the Carsons for. I hope you will tell them how grateful I am.’
Lottie didn’t reply as she returned to her chair. She had not told her father about her last visit, now some weeks ago, or mentioned them again. Nor would she if she could help it. ‘How about some tea?’
‘There is better news. Doctor Carson thinks he has a job for me. A friend of his, a supreme court judge, wants a chauffeur and, knowing about my past experience, Doctor Carson has suggested me. Isn’t that great? I am to see this eminent gentleman, Sir Eustace Frobisher, tomorrow. Have you heard of Sir Eustace, Lottie? Did your friends ever mention him?’
‘No, Dad. But that is really good news.’
‘What’s more,’ her father went on eagerly, ‘I’ll be able to help out financially, provide for my family as a father should. Regain my self-respect. That means a lot to me.’ Lottie went over and, eyes shining, embraced her father, who held her tightly in his arms.
‘I love you, Lottie.’
‘And I you, Dad. And I have never, ever lost my respect for you.’ Momentarily they clung to each other. Then, freeing herself, fearful of breaking down, she said briskly, ‘Let’s have tea,’ and went to the bottom of the stairs to call Bella. ‘Now we have even more to celebrate.’
Yet despite her overwhelming pleasure at the news, mainly for the effect it would have on her father if it happened, there was a sneaking regret that now there was yet another reason to be grateful to the Carsons. She knew how her mother would have reacted and for once she experienced a moment of sympathy for her. Somehow this family seemed to possess hers and she wondered if they would ever be free of their influence, however benign and well meant?