Free Running to Paradise by Virginia Budd Page B

in Bagland Wood. Char and I to pick them tomorrow to decorate the church.
    Renton House, Beds — 2nd April 1910
    Such a happy day yesterday with Char. Perfect spring sunshine. We took a picnic to the woods, I driving old Snowball in the dog cart. The wild flowers quite lovely. I did some sketching and Char played in and out of the trees. We saw a red squirrel and Char shouted: ‘Look, look, Aunt Beth, there’s Squirrel Nutkin.’ She’s such an original child: no beauty, but there’s something there.
    Long letter from Con. The doctors don’t seem to know what is wrong with her. A return to England and good, plain food should do the trick! Gallivanting about the continent won’t help to patch up her and Dick’s differences. Tried to talk to Char about her behaviour with the govs, but all she would say was, ‘Aunt Beth, they were all so stupid.’ Can she be right? Con does sometimes choose some rather odd people. This evening I set the child a little essay, ‘A Day in the Woods’. She ran straight upstairs to the school room to write it and stayed there until bedtime.
    Dear Baby — I must remember now to call her Rosie — is walking everywhere, such a lovely child, always so happy.
    Renton House, Beds — 4th April 1910
    A wire last night — Con and Dick home tomorrow. The boat train arrives at Victoria four o’clock, then straight down here in time for a late dinner. I must remember to tell Cook. Everyone frantically busy getting ready — Char rather quiet. ‘Ma will be so angry,’ she keeps saying, ‘and it wasn’t all my fault, not this time.’ I told her not to be absurd: if she gave her mother the truth and apologised properly for any worry she’d caused, I know she would understand. The trouble is, I’m not sure if I’m right to say this to her. Con can be so difficult and after being ill and Dick leaving her in the hotel in Rome while he went cavorting off to Sienna...I shall just have to plead the child’s case I suppose. No one else will. Such a beautiful little essay she wrote — really quite poetic. I wonder if school would be the answer?
    Garden Court, Kensington — 6th April 1910
    Home again — such a relief — despite the troubles that beset us here. Roo has a bad cold and feels quite wretched with it. Mr Flinders escaped and simply vanished into thin air for three hours. He was returned to us by old Lady Manver’s footman. Apparently, the footman told Mabel, their Susy is in a ‘certain condition’ and every dog in the Borough is after her, including, it seems, our Mr Flinders!
    I departed from Renton under a cloud! Con looked very seedy. The trip seems to have done her no good at all. Dick just goes his own sweet way, as usual. Dick and I dined alone the night of their return; Con straight to bed. No present for poor little Char, such a disappointment for her: such a pretty embroidered dress for Rosie and a dear little music box.
    At breakfast I told Con I didn’t think the gov’s departure was entirely Char’s naughtiness; I had it from the servants the woman was difficult, but she wouldn’t allow it and said Char must be punished, so that was that. I’m afraid I became a little angry; it did no good, of course, it never does. Con simply informed me I was unmarried (an unnecessary piece of information under the circumstances!) and therefore knew nothing of how to bring up children. Dick just said: ‘Con’s right, Beth old thing, the child must be punished,’ and drifted off before I could reply. Typical! Char v. tight and angry when I left; said she didn’t care what anyone said, and if she had another governess who was ‘stoopid and bossy’, she’d ‘get rid of her too’, so there we stand. I plucked up courage to ask Con why she’d insisted on my dashing down to Renton to hold the fort and then refused to listen to anything I had to say on the situation I found there, but she simply looked wan and said she felt too seedy to discuss the matter further!
    Garden