the garden party(园会)-第5章
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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 had chilled her through and
through on each of those awful journeys； she had no warmth left to give
them。 As to the boy well； thank Heaven； mother had taken him； he was
mother's； or Beryl's； or anybody's who wanted him。 She had hardly held
him in her arms。 She was so indifferent about him that as he lay
there。。。Linda glanced down。
The boy had turned over。 He lay facing her； and he was no longer
asleep。 His dark…blue； baby eyes were open； he looked as though he was
peeping at his mother。 And suddenly his face dimpled； it broke into a
wide； toothless smile； a perfect beam； no less。
〃I'm here！〃 that happy smile seemed to say。 〃Why don't you like
me？〃
There was something so quaint； so unexpected about that smile that
Linda smiled herself。 But she checked herself and said to the boy coldly；
〃I don't like babies。〃
〃Don't like babies？〃 The boy couldn't believe her。 〃Don't like me？
〃 He waved his arms foolishly at his mother。
Linda dropped off her chair on to the grass。
〃Why do you keep on smiling？〃 she said severely。 〃If you knew
what I was thinking about； you wouldn't。〃
But he only squeezed up his eyes； slyly； and rolled his head on the
pillow。 He didn't believe a word she said。
〃We know all about that！〃 smiled the boy。
Linda was so astonished at the confidence of this little creature。。。Ah no；
be sincere。 That was not what she felt； it was something far different； it
was something so new； so。。。The tears danced in her eyes； she breathed in a
small whisper to the boy； 〃Hallo； my funny！〃
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But by now the boy had forgotten his mother。 He was serious again。
Something pink； something soft waved in front of him。 He made a grab
at it and it immediately disappeared。 But when he lay back； another； like
the first； appeared。 This time he determined to catch it。 He made a
tremendous effort and rolled right over。
Chapter 1。VII。
The tide was out； the beach was deserted； lazily flopped the warm sea。
The sun beat down； beat down hot and fiery on the fine sand； baking the
grey 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 convolvulus that threaded through and through the sand…hills。
Nothing seemed to move but the small sand…hoppers。 Pit…pit…pit！ They
were never still。
Over there on the weed…hung rocks that looked at low tide like shaggy
beasts come down to the water to drink； the sunlight seemed to spin like a
silver coin dropped into each of the small rock pools。 They danced； they
quivered； and minute ripples laved the porous shores。 Looking down；
bending over； each pool was like a lake with pink and blue houses
clustered on the shores； and oh！ the vast mountainous country behind
those housesthe 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 there was a glimpse of a
black feeler； now a thread…like creature wavered by and was lost。
Something was happening to the pink； waving trees； they were changing
to a cold moonlight blue。 And now there sounded the faintest 〃plop。〃
Who made that sound？ What was going on down there？ And how
strong； how damp the seaweed smelt in the hot sun。。。
The green blinds were drawn in the bungalows of the summer colony。
Over the verandas； prone on the paddock； flung over the fences； there
were exhausted…looking bathing…dresses and rough striped towels。 Each
back window seemed to have a pair of sand…shoes on the sill and some
lumps of rock or a bucket or a collection of pawa shells。 The bush
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quivered in a haze of heat； the sandy road was empty except for the Trouts'
dog Snooker； who lay stretched in the very middle of it。 His blue eye
was turned up； his legs stuck out stiffly； and he gave an occasional
desperate…sounding puff； as much as to say he had decided to make an end
of it and was only waiting for some kind cart to come along。
〃What are you looking at； my grandma？ Why do you keep stopping
and sort of staring at the wall？〃
Kezia and her grandmother were taking their siesta together。 The
little girl； wearing only her short drawers and her under…bodice； her arms
and legs bare； lay on one of the puffed…up pillows of her grandma's bed；
and the old woman； in a white ruffled dressing…gown； sat in a rocker at the
window； with a long piece of pink knitting in 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 of forked lightning was imprisoned in it。 On the
table there stood a jar of sea…pinks； pressed so tightly together they looked
more like a velvet pincushion； and a special shell which Kezia had given
her grandma for a pin…tray； and another even more special which she had
thought would make a very nice place for a watch to curl up in。
〃Tell me； grandma；〃 said Kezia。
The old woman sighed； whipped the wool twice round her thumb； and
drew the bone needle through。 She was casting on。
〃I was thinking of your Uncle William； darling；〃 she said quietly。
〃My Australian Uncle William？〃 said Kezia。 She had another。
〃Yes； of course。〃
〃The one I never saw？〃
〃That was the one。〃
〃Well； what happened to him？〃 Kezia knew perfectly well； but she
wanted to be told again。
〃He went to the mines； and he got a sunstroke there and died；〃 said old
Mrs。 Fairfield。
Kezia blinked and considered the picture again。。。a little man fallen
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over like a tin soldier by the side of a big black hole。
〃Does it make you sad to think about him； grandma？〃 She hated her
grandma to be sad。
It was the old woman's turn to consider。 Did it make her sad？ To
look back； back。 To stare down the years； as Kezia had seen her doing。
To look after them as a woman does； long after they were out of sight。
Did it make her sad？ No； life was like that。
〃No； Kezia。〃
〃But why？〃 asked Kezia。 She lifted one bare arm and began to draw
things in the air。 〃Why did Uncle William have to die？ He wasn't old。〃
Mrs。 Fairfield began counting the stitches in threes。 〃It just
happened；〃 she said in an absorbed voice。
〃Does everybody have to die？〃 asked Kezia。
〃Everybody！〃
〃Me？〃 Kezia sounded fearfully incredulous。
〃Some day； my darling。〃
〃But； grandma。〃 Kezia waved her left leg and waggled the toes。
They felt sandy。 〃What if I just won't？〃
The old woman sighed again and drew a long thread from the ball。
〃We're not asked； Kezia；〃 she said sadly。 〃It happens to all of us
sooner or later。〃
Kezia lay still thinking this over。 She didn't want to die。 It meant
she would have to leave here； leave everywhere； for ever； leaveleave her
grandma。 She rolled over quickly。
〃Grandma；〃 she said in a startled voice。
〃What； my pet！〃
〃You're not to die。〃 Kezia was very decided。
〃Ah； Kezia〃her grandma looked up and smiled and shook her head
〃don't let's talk about it。〃
〃But you're not to。 You couldn't leave me。 You couldn't not be
there。〃 This was awful。 〃Promise me you won't ever do it； grandma；〃
pleaded Kezia。
The old woman went on knitting。
〃Promise me！ Say never！〃
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But still her grandma was silent。
Kezia rolled off her bed； she couldn't bear it any longer； and lightly she
leapt on to her grandma's knees； clasped her hands round the old woman's
throat and began kissing her； under the chin； behind the ear； and blowing
down her neck。
〃Say never。。。say never。。。say never〃 She gasped between the kisses。
And then she began； very softly and lightly； to tickle her grandma。
〃Kezia！〃 The old woman dropped her knitting。 She swung back in
the rocker。 She began to tickle Kezia。 〃Say never； say never； say
never；〃 gurgled Kezia； while they lay there laughing in each other's arms。
〃Come； that's enough； my squirrel！ That's enough； my wild pony！〃 said
old Mrs。 Fairfield； setting her cap straight。 〃Pick up my knitting。〃
Both of them had forgotten what the 〃never〃 was about。
Chapter 1。VIII。
The sun was still full on the garden when the back door of the
Burnells' shut with a ba
