Free Quartet in Autumn by Barbara Pym Page A

he entered the hall, a bleak room garishly decorated by members of the youth club, he heard the voice of an old woman raised in a protest about biscuits.
    'It is quite unnecessary to have biscuits with the coffee,' she said. 'A hot drink is all that anyone needs.'
    'I like to have something to nibble with my coffee,' protested a little furry woman in a grey coat. 'We all know that Mrs Pope is wonderful for her age but the elderly don't need much to eat If it had been known beforehand that the biscuit tin was empty something could have been done about it — it could have been replenished — biscuits could have been bought'
    Into the middle of this controversy Edwin inserted himself with what seemed like a brutal attack. 'I believe one of you ladies has a spare room,' he declared.
    There was silence, an awkward silence, Edwin felt, and both the women began to make excuses like the guests bidden to the marriage feast — the room was hardly more than a cupboard, it had all the things for the church bazaar in it, it might be needed for a relative. This last was the trump card but Edwin persevered. He had not thought out what he would do next, and he now realized that it might have been better if he had begun by describing Letty and outlining the nature of her problem, emphasizing her need for a room, so that consciences might be played upon and hearts touched. But how should he describe Letty? As a friend? She was hardly that and being a single woman might arouse gossip. A lady I know? That sounded too arch and coy. A woman who works in my office? Surely that would be best. The words woman, work, office, presented a reassuring picture of somebody of the preferred sex, who would be out all day and might even be a congenial companion on the occasions when she was in the house.
    So Edwin went on, adopting a confidential tone, 'You see, it's like this. A woman who works in my office is in a difficulty. The house where she lives has been sold with the tenants in it and the new landlord and his family aren't quite what she's been used to, rather noisy, in fact . '
    'Blacks?' asked Mrs Pope sharply.
    'That's about the size of it,' Edwin admitted in a genial way.
    'Mind you, Mr Olatunde is a very good man — a priest, in a manner of speaking.'
    'How can he be a priest in a manner of speaking?' asked Mrs Pope. 'He must be either a priest or not a priest. There can be no qualification.'
    'He is a priest of an African religious sect,' Edwin explained. 'And of course the services are not quite like ours — there's a lot of noisy singing and shouting.'
    'And this woman — lady — she is that, I assume?'
    'Oh, certainly. There would be no difficulty on that score,' said Edwin casually, feeling that Letty was in every way superior, if that was the criterion to be applied.
    'She finds the noise too much where she is living?'
    'Yes, she does, being a very quiet person herself.' That was something to be emphasized.
    'Of course there is my large back room, and it might be useful to have another person in the house.'
    Edwin recalled that Mrs Pope lived alone.
    'If one fell downstairs or tripped over a rug and was unable to get up…'
    'You might lie for hours before anyone came,' said the little furry woman eagerly.
    'One's bones are so brittle,' said Mrs Pope. 'A fracture could lead to serious complications.'
    Edwin felt that they were getting off the point. He wanted the business to be settled, with Letty in the room. Of course Mrs Pope was old, but she was active and independent and he was sure that Letty, being a woman, would be very helpful in case of illness or accident. Now he could see the whole pattern emerging, with Letty's life governed by the soothing rhythm of the Church's year. All Saints' today, then All Souls'; everybody could share in the commemoration of the saints and the departed. Then would come Advent followed closely — too closely, it often seemed — by Christmas. After Christmas came Boxing Day, the Feast of St