THE MEANING OF LIFE
The boy threaded his way among the tables, until he came to where the
Currey party sat.
“_Madame, s’il vous plaît, on vous demande au téléphone de l’Angleterre._”
“_Moi?_” ejaculated Claudia, in surprise.
“_Mais oui, Madame._”
Claudia rose and hurried to the telephone, hardly having time to wonder
who it could be. Then she heard Jack’s voice on the other end.
“Claudia, is that you? Oh, for God’s sake, old girl, come back. I have
blurted out the truth to Fay. She cornered me, and I confessed to her
there wasn’t any chance.... It’s dreadful ... she wants you ... we can’t
do anything with her. If you don’t come, I shall blow my brains out. I
can’t stand it. Pat’s there, isn’t she? You can come, can’t you?”
Claudia thought rapidly. “Yes, I’ll come, Jack. By to-night’s boat. All
right, you meet me at Charing Cross.”
She heard a sort of sob of relief from the other end, and he commenced to
blab broken words of gratitude, but she cut him short. “No good talking
on the telephone, old boy. It was rather cruel of you ... you shouldn’t
have let her corner you. Tell her I’m coming.”
She went back to the luncheon-table, but her appetite for lunch was gone.
She was half afraid Gilbert would make some objection to her going, but
except by a shrug of his shoulders and the raising of his thick eyebrows,
he put no obstacles in her way.
“Oh! poor little kid!” ejaculated Pat, her high spirits momentarily
sobered. “Fancy knowing that there is no hope. Ugh! it must be like those
torture-chambers of old, when the victims watched the walls gradually
close in on them. I hope I shall die quickly and suddenly when my time
comes.”
“And yet there must be thousands at this very minute, as we sit here,
who are knowingly being enclosed by those walls. I suppose we humans, on
the whole, are a poor lot, and yet sometimes I am struck with amazement
at the courage of men and women,” said Colin thoughtfully. “When I pass
through the crowded suburbs, I marvel at the amount of quiet, unnoticed
heroism those brick walls must contain. But Fay—You have a difficult task
before you, Claudia. You can’t travel alone. I will take you back to
London.”
Claudia was longing to accept the offer, but she shook her head. “Oh, no!
thank you, Colin. You needn’t coddle me. Pat came over alone.”
“Yes; but she came in the day-time, and you are travelling at night.
Can’t be done, madam. Pat will look after our patient.”
“I wish you wouldn’t fuss over me,” said Gilbert testily. “Of course I am
glad of your company, but I don’t need any kind of looking after. I’m not
a hysterical, nervy woman. A man who is taking a rest isn’t a patient of
anyone’s.”
“Gilbert, don’t be grumpy,” said Pat, who was never in the least overawed
by Gilbert. “All men want looking after. If you are rude, I shall follow
you round the links with a tin of Brand’s Essence and a spoon.”
Colin’s presence on the journey was a great comfort, for he was quietly
thoughtful without being fussy, and she did not feel under any necessity
to talk to him, unless she had something to say. But she was pleasantly
conscious of his sympathy with her miserable errand. He took her to the
door of the flat and left her.
Claudia was startled when she saw her brother. She had never believed it
possible that anyone could go to pieces so badly in such a short time.
His young, unlined face was haggard, his eyes were sunken and dull.
“Claudia, if you hadn’t come, I should have put an end to myself. I can’t
stand seeing her suffer so. I wish I hadn’t told her, but she’s too cute
for me. She always was.”
“How did you come to blurt it out?”
“Why, we were sitting quietly together, and I was teaching her
double-dummy, when she said, ‘Jack, isn’t it too bad, I shall never get
better?’—quite quietly—just like I say it, and of course I—well, I gave
the show away. She’d been suspicious for a long time, it seems. She
remembers the case of a man in her profession that got hurt in the same
way years ago. She knows how miserably he died a year afterwards....
She’d never said anything about it before. Must have been thinking it
out. She raved it all out at me.” He shivered. “I shall never get over
this, Claudia.”
She was silent, as she took off her gloves.
“She cries and cries, and then suddenly she screams in abject fright....
I keep on hearing those screams. I can’t sleep for them. Oh, God! it’s
too awful.”
The nurse had quietly entered. “I’m so glad you have come, Mrs. Currey.
You always had such an influence over her. Will you come in? She’s been
listening for your arrival.”
It was something resembling a very young child that threw itself with
cries and sobs into her arms, when she went to the bedside. Claudia knelt
down and held her tightly and silently to her breast. What words could
she use to the poor, frightened soul, that did not sound puerile and
meaningless? Even if she had herself believed in the orthodox Heaven, Fay
was too fond of this world to have found any comfort in the visionary
prospect. If only the curtain had killed her outright on that fatal
night! That moment of surprise would have been her only pang, and now——
“I don’t want to die,” sobbed Fay. “I’m young. I’m only twenty-two. It’s
wicked, it’s wicked.... I won’t be resigned. Nurse says I ought to be.
But she isn’t going to die.”
“Fay, dear, I know it’s terribly hard.... I shan’t ask you to be
resigned. But will you listen to me for a few minutes?”
“Yes, I will—if you don’t want me to be resigned. Young people can’t be
resigned, can they?”
“No, but they can fight. Fay, have I ever told you how much I admire you
for the way you’ve risen in your profession?” The sobbing grew quieter.
“I’ve never had to do anything for my living, and I don’t suppose I can
imagine one tenth part of the difficulty with which people do earn their
living—the competition, the horrid spectres which people of my class
never see, the fear of breaking down, of not having enough at the end of
the week to pay the rent, to find food and clothing. You were earning a
splendid salary when—the accident happened, but you didn’t always, did
you?”
“Not much. The first few years after mother died I had precious little,
an engagement here and there, and a good many times I didn’t know where
the tin was coming from to pay the landlady.”
“I know. I guessed all that, because very few people ‘arrive’ without
making a big fight. I’m sure you made a splendid fight. You hung on to
the managers and agents till they gave you engagements, and you set your
teeth together and said to yourself, ‘I won’t be done,’ didn’t you?”
“Yes, but how did you know?” She lifted the distorted, tear-stained face
wonderingly.
“You were quite a child when you made that fight, at an age when I was
still in the schoolroom. And you fought fairly, and made lots of friends.
Look at the crowds of letters you get, asking how you are. Fay, go on
fighting. Don’t give in now.”
There was complete silence. The dark head was motionless. Claudia knew
she was taking in the idea, for whenever Fay wanted to reason with
herself, she always thought in silence. She always took a special
interval from life to do her thinking.
“But what am I to fight for?” she said at length.
“To keep your own respect and the respect and admiration of all who know
you. Poor Jack loves you very much in his way, and he is distracted. Help
to steady him, Fay. He is beginning to look at life more seriously. He
admires you immensely as an artist, make him admire you as a _woman_. You
told me once that you didn’t want to do him any harm by marrying him. You
can do him a great deal of good.”
“Poor old Jumbo! I scared him out of his life.” She gave a ghost of her
gay smile. “I knew I’d get it out of him. No one else would tell me.”
“He’s known all the time,” went on Claudia, stroking her hair, as she
would have a child’s. “It’s been a terrible burden, Fay. You can see from
his face how he has been brooding over it. Jack’s never had to bear any
kind of trouble in his life before. The world has been all rose-leaves
for him. I think he’s been putting up a bit of a fight, too, because he
hates trouble and illness, and all the uncomfortable things of life. He’s
come pretty regularly to see you, hasn’t he?”
“Yes, he has. I see what you’re driving at. But why should I have to
die? I swear to God I never did no one no harm that I know of. There
was a chap once I was awful fond of, and him of me. We used to keep on
meeting on the Stoll tour. One week his wife came along. She was a silly,
soppy piece of goods; he liked a bit of a devil, like me, but she was
dead stuck on him, and there was a baby coming. I sent him back to her,
straight, I did. I wouldn’t have no truck with him. He sent me an awful
nice letter when I got hurt. He’ll be sorry when—when he hears.”
“I’m sure he will.”
Fay was silent again, her blue eyes fixed on an absurd Teddy Bear on the
chest of drawers. Then she said with a queer jumble of ideas that left
Claudia speechless:
“I shan’t be able to do that American tour next year, and I shall never
have a baby. Some people think kids are a nuisance, but I’d like to have
had one. Babies are awful cute, aren’t they? Mabel Floyd’s got a kid of
four years old, and she does all her mother’s songs. Makes you die with
laughing. You should see her do the Bond Street strut, with her mother’s
monocle. She’ll make a hit on the halls one of these days. Got it in
her, you know, same as I had.” She looked at a framed photograph which
hung on one of the walls. “Mother died when she was thirty-two, but that
was because she got soaking wet one night, going to the theatre. But she
didn’t mind dying much. I remember that. She was dead tired, you know. My
father took his hook when I was four years old, and he had knocked all
the life out of her. I can remember her saying, ‘If it wasn’t for you,
I’d be glad to take a rest, Fay.’ But I don’t feel like that. I never
allowed any man to make my life a misery. If there was any misery going
about, the men got it. I wasn’t taking any. Take my tip, my dear, don’t
you let ’em squeeze everything out of you. Mother taught me that lesson.
She had a thin time, poor thing.” Suddenly she commenced to cry again,
but gently. “I’ve heard people say that those that are dead can look down
on us. Do you think mother can see me now?”
“Perhaps, Fay. We know very little about the spiritual world.”
After a minute Fay took her head off Claudia’s shoulder, and pushed her
away a little with one of her small, babyish hands. Her blue eyes, still
wet, searched her face with such acuteness that Claudia was glad she had
nothing to hide any longer.
“Claudia, did you think all this out—about the fighting—as you came to
see me? Did you make it all up?”
Claudia shook her head, and her eyes were dark with her own thoughts as
she replied:
“No, Fay. It wasn’t thought out at all. I’ll tell you the truth. I hadn’t
the least idea what I could say to you. I kept on asking myself, ‘What
shall I say? What shall I say?’ Then suddenly, as I came into your room
and saw you crying among the pillows, I knew what life must mean for you,
for me, for Jack, for everybody. A sudden light seemed to come to me. An
answer came to some questions I have lately been putting to myself. I
realized that it doesn’t matter whether you win or lose, whether you are
happy or unhappy, as long as you keep on fighting. I don’t understand
life any more than you do, dear. Sometimes it seems a pretty dreary
business. I’m hopelessly at sea. But—I see now—one must go on swimming.
You mustn’t just let your arms fall to your side and sink. Perhaps,
if you keep on swimming, a boat may pick you up, or you may find an
unsuspected island, and even if you don’t get rescued, I think one must
die—swimming.”
Fay’s eyes opened widely, and her arms stole again round her
sister-in-law’s neck.
“How sad your voice sounds,” she whispered. “Are you having a bad time?
Aren’t you happy, either?”
Her sister-in-law’s voice was a little unsteady as she said, in a low
voice, “Fay, shall I tell you a secret? Can you keep one?”
“Honour bright. May I be——”
“Listen, then.... No, I’m not happy.... I haven’t found anything
that I wanted in life. It’s all makeshifts. I’m very restless, very
dissatisfied, and just at the moment I don’t find life worth living.
Only yesterday I was talking like a beastly coward. I was telling a
friend that I was frightened of the future, that I could see only blank,
empty, joyless days, and that I was going to develop into a nasty,
soured, cold-hearted woman. Now I see how disgusting it was of me to say
things like that, especially when I was making him unhappy too. I know
I ought to brace up my muscles, and start swimming—like you. I don’t
feel like it, any more than you do.... You’ll keep my secret, won’t you,
Fay, and when I get tired, I’ll come to you and do a howl, and when you
get tired you shall do the howling. And then we’ll make another effort
and go on swimming again. We’ll help one another, won’t we? Somehow, I
fancy the strong people of this world are not those who always achieve
great things, but those who keep on fighting, who will not be downed by
circumstances.”
Fay kissed her passionately. “I love you. I’d do anything for you. And if
I can help you—I didn’t know you had any troubles—I should be so proud of
myself. I’ve always looked upon you as someone who didn’t want any help,
who always found it easy to do”—vaguely—“the right thing.”
“No! No!” cried Claudia, thinking of the humiliating scene in the studio,
“I don’t find it easy at all. I find everything horribly difficult and
confusing.... I haven’t even got any fixed principles now. I hardly know
what I believe or disbelieve. Sometimes I think I am only an artist, a
pagan, merely craving for the beautiful, the perfect; sometimes I feel
there is more in life and love than that ... there must be, there must
be ... the whole fabric of life could not have been built upon such an
insecure foundation. Passion is a big factor in life, but there must be a
bigger.”
She was talking to herself now, talking out her own doubts, but Fay lay
perfectly still, listening to the voice that she loved, and comprehending
only that this woman she had always thought so favoured, so lucky, so
above the storms that beset her own course, was in trouble, and that it
eased her mind to talk to her—The Girlie Girl of the music-halls. She,
Fay, had been entrusted with her secret, and her heart swelled with a
pride that made her for a few minutes forget her own tragedy. “Dead
common,” she called herself, she was Claudia’s confidante. If Claudia
wanted her to keep on fighting—well, it must be done, somehow or other.
“Life can’t be a joke of the gods,” went on Claudia. “It’s the fashion
nowadays to pretend that it is—but it can’t be. One can’t simply give way
to every temptation with the excuse that one is unhappy, that life has
cheated you. If nobody wants you to be loyal to them, you must be loyal
to yourself. Oh! how I wish I understood things better.”
There was a click of the door-handle and the nurse came in.
“Mrs. Currey, the cook has got some soup and cold chicken for you in the
dining-room. You must be tired after travelling. Won’t you take a little?”
“Yes,” said Fay, rubbing her fists in her eyes, “she must. She’s a duck
to come so quickly. Nurse, I’m going to be good after this; at least, I’m
going to make a try. It isn’t much in my line, but I’m not so old I can’t
learn a new song and dance.... Claudia, send old Jumbo to me.”
At that instant “old Jumbo” put his head dubiously round the door. He
was the weakest of husbands and men, but helped by Colin’s lecture, he
had almost overcome his repugnance to a sick-room. The last two days had
frightened him out of his very limited wits. He had not heard Fay sobbing
for the last quarter of an hour. Had Claudia got her asleep or——
“Hallo, Jumbo,” called out Fay. “Come over here and give me a kiss.”
His stupid, handsome face brightened, and some of the scared look
disappeared from the eyes.
“Cheer oh, Fay, old girl!” he said huskily. “I’m glad you’re better.”
Claudia and the nurse left the strange married couple together.
* * * * *
At that same moment Colin was tearing open a telegram which his man said
had arrived a couple of hours previously. It was from Pat at Le Touquet,
and Colin quickly mastered the disquieting contents.
“_Come back quickly and bring Neeburg if possible. Gilbert has had a
seizure. Would play eighteen holes. Tried to stop him. Don’t alarm
Claudia. No immediate danger._”