Free Childish Loves by Benjamin Markovits Page A

the remains of an English gentleman. As we are about the same height, I tried on a pair of his shoes, which fit snugly enough. But then, a fear of Mr Mealy prevailing upon me, I took them off again and looked in his study, to examine the books – of which he had only a few, and most of them novels.
    I half expected at any moment to see Lord Grey stalk in, in his riding boots. The study was windowless and the air inside it very close. In fact, it was little more than a dressing room. I suppose I fell asleep for when I woke again, I had the odd, childish feeling that Kitty was looking for me; and for a moment or two took a kind of pleasure in the idea that she wouldn’t find me. Then I remembered myself and went downstairs. Eventually I discovered Mr Mealy in the garden, attempting to untangle the nets of a currant bush; the crows had been tearing at it. The gardener was nowhere to be seen, he complained, so it was left to him to attend to every man’s job but his own. I asked him if Lord Grey intended to return soon.
    â€˜If I need something or want to know something,’ was all his answer, ‘I apply to Mr Hanson, who pays me.’
    â€˜Oh, we are all the servants of Mr Hanson. He is a great dispenser of moneys.’ And then: ‘I suppose Lord Grey must find it very dull here, if he is away so often.’
    â€˜I don’t know what he finds it.’
    Once the nets were restored, I told him, ‘In a few years, I mean to take the estates in hand myself.’
    What clouds there were hung low over the ground. The heat seemed too heavy to move in the long grasses, which wanted cutting. A great swathe ran from the hall to the lake, where they blended themselves among the water-reeds. The ground around the bushes looked purple and trampled. There were also raspberry bushes, gooseberry bushes, a potato bed and a low plum tree. I had tethered Mr Becher’s horse against this tree; the fruit was too green to tempt even a horse. But Mr Mealy stood watching her with an air of disapproval.
    â€˜Did you know the old Lord Byron?’ I said. ‘They say he drank very violently.’
    â€˜I did not, it was Mr Hanson that hired me.’ But then, relenting a little: ‘I worked for Mr Chaworth at Annesley Hall. You may imagine what opinion they held of him, or any of the Byrons, for that matter, at Annesley Hall.’
    â€˜You mean, because of the duel? It was all a great many years ago. I suppose you know Miss Chaworth. She is said to be very pretty. I met her when I was ten or so – she, a few years older – but I believe I have changed a good deal. It was a kind of joke that we would marry in time, like the Montagues and Capulets. Does Lord Grey often ride over? It isn’t far to Annesley.’
    â€˜Lord Grey often walks; he prefers it to any other exercise.’
    I coloured at this, but perhaps he intended no allusion. I told him I meant to bathe before returning to Southwell (the sun had become intolerably direct). But he should see to it that a bed was made up for me the next day, as I proposed to take up Lord Grey’s offer and use the house in his absence.
    â€˜It means more work for me,’ he complained. ‘I shall write to Mr Hanson.’
    There was nothing more to be said. I walked through the long grass to the edge of the lake, stripped off my clothes, and then slowly pushed my way through the reeds to the open water. After striking out briskly, I lay on my back and let the sunshine warm the water on my head. The light of noon was very strong; I closed my eyes and felt my heart beat against them steadily as waves. When I opened them again, Mr Mealy was still standing by the currant bush where I had left him, but after a minute or so he turned away.
    *
    Kitty has only reluctantly agreed to let me go. We had a scene tonight. I am so often at the Pigots in the evening that she has requested me, on coming home, always to look in on her, regardless of the