Under the Clock

by Arnold Bennett

　　

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IIt was one of those swift and violent marriages which occur when theinterested parties are so severely wounded by the arrow of love thatonly immediate and constant mutual nursing will save them from a fatalissue. (So they think.) Hence when Annie came from Sneyd to inhabit thehouse in Birches Street, Hanbridge, which William Henry Brachett hadfurnished for her, she really knew very little of William Henry savethat he was intensely lovable, and that she was intensely in love withhim. Their acquaintance extended over three months; And she knew equallylittle of the manners and customs of the Five Towns. For although Sneydlies but a few miles from the immense seat of pottery manufacture, it isnot as the Five Towns are. It is not feverish, grimy, rude, strenuous,Bacchic, and wicked. It is a model village, presided over by theCountess of Chell. The people of the Five Towns go there on Thursdayafternoons (eightpence, third class return), as if they were going toParadise. Thus, indeed, it was that William Henry had met Annie,daughter of a house over whose door were writ the inviting words, "Teaand Hot Water Provided."There were a hundred and forty-two residences in Birches Street,Hanbridge, all alike, differing only in the degree of cleanliness oftheir window-curtains. Two front doors together, and then twobow-windows, and then two front doors again, and so on all up the streetand all down the street. Life was monotonous, but on the wholerespectable. Annie came of an economical family, and, previous to thewedding, she had been afraid that William Henry's ideal of economymight fall short of her own. In this she was mistaken. In fact, she wasstartlingly mistaken. It was some slight shock to her to be informed byWilliam Henry that owing to slackness of work the honeymoon ought to bereduced to two days. Still, she agreed to the proposal with joy. (Forher life was going to be one long honeymoon.) When they returned fromthe brief honeymoon, William Henry took eight shillings from her, out ofthe money he had given her, and hurried off to pay it into the GoingAway Club, and there was scarcity for a few days. This happened inMarch. She had then only a vague idea of what the Going Away Club was.But from William Henry's air, and his fear lest he might be late, shegathered that the Going Away Club must be a very important institution.Brachett, for a living, painted blue Japanese roses on vases at Gimson &Nephews' works. He was nearly thirty years of age, and he had never doneanything else but paint blue Japanese roses on vases. When the demandfor blue Japanese roses on vases was keen, he could earn what is called"good money"--that is to say, quite fifty shillings a week. But thedemand for blue Japanese roses on vases was subject to the caprices ofmarkets--especially Colonial markets--and then William Henry hadundesired days of leisure, and brought home less than fifty shillings,sometimes considerably less. Still, the household over which Anniepresided was a superiorly respectable household and William Henry'sincome was, week in, week out, one of the princeliest in the street; andcertainly Annie's window-curtains, and her gilt-edged Bible andartificial flowers displayed on a small table between thewindow-curtains was not to be surpassed. Further, William was "steady,"and not quite raving mad about football matches; nor did he bet onhorses, dogs or pigeons.Nevertheless Annie--although, mind you, extraordinarily happy--foundthat her new existence, besides being monotonous, was somewhat hard,narrow and lacking in spectacular delights. Whenever there was anysuggestion of spending more money than usual, William Henry's fiercechin would stick out in a formidable way, and his voice would becomeharsh, and in the result more money than usual was not spent. Hisnotion of an excursion, of a wild and costly escapade, was a walk inHanbridge Municipal Park and two shandy-gaffs at the CorporationRefreshment House therein. Now, although the Hanbridge Park is awonderful triumph of grass-seed and terra-cotta over cinder-heaps andshard-rucks, although it is a famous exemplar to other boroughs, it isnot precisely the Vale of Llangollen, nor the Lake District. It is theleast bit in the world tedious, and by the sarcastic has been likened toa cemetery. And it seemed to symbolize Annie's life for her, in itscramped and pruned and smoky regularity. She began to look upon the FiveTowns as a sort of prison from which she could never, never escape.I say she was extraordinarily happy; and yet she was unhappy too. In aword, she resembled all the rest of us--she had "somehow expectedsomething different" from what life actually gave her. She wasastonished that her William Henry seemed to be so content with things asthey were. Far, now, from any apprehension of his extravagance, shewished secretly that he would be a little more dashing. He did not seemto feel the truth that, though prudence is all very well, you can onlylive your life once, and that when you are dead you are dead. He did notseem to understand the value of pleasure. Few people in the Five Townsdid seem to understand the value of pleasure. He had no distractionsexcept his pipe. Existence was a harsh and industrious struggle, aseries of undisturbed daily habits. No change, no gaiety, no freak!Grim, changeless monotony!And once, in July, William Henry abandoned even his pipe for ten days.Work, and therefore pay, had been irregular, but that was not in itselfa reason sufficient for cutting off a luxury that cost only a shilling aweek. It was the Going Away Club that swallowed up the tobacco money.Nothing would induce William Henry to get into arrears with his paymentsto that mysterious Club. He would have sacrificed not merely his pipe,but his dinner--nay, he would have sacrificed his wife's dinner--to thegreedy maw of that Club. Annie hated the Club nearly as passionately asshe loved William Henry.Then on the first of August (a Tuesday) William Henry came into thehouse and put down twenty sovereigns in a row on the kitchen table. Hedid not say much, being (to Annie's mild regret) of a secretivedisposition.Annie had never seen so much money in a row before."What's that?" she said weakly."That?" said William Henry. "That's th' going away money."IIA flat barrow at the door, a tin trunk and two bags on the barrow, and asomewhat ragged boy between the handles of the barrow! The curtainsremoved from the windows, and the blinds drawn! A double turn of the keyin the portal! And away they went, the ragged boy having previously spiton his hands in order to get a grip of the barrow. Thus they arrived atHanbridge Railway Station, which was a tempest of traffic that Saturdaybefore Bank Holiday. The whole of the Five Towns appeared to be goingaway. The first thing that startled Annie was that William Henry gavethe ragged boy a shilling, quite as much as the youth could have earnedin a couple of days in a regular occupation. William Henry was alsolavish with a porter. When they arrived, after a journey of ten minutes,at Knype, where they had to change for Liverpool, he was again lavishwith a porter. And the same thing happened at Crewe, where they had tochange once more for Liverpool. They had time at Crewe for an expensivecoloured drink. On the long seething platform William Henry gave Annieall his money to keep."Here, lass!" he said. "This'll be safer with you than with me."She was flattered.When it came in, the Liverpool train was crammed to the doors. And twohundred people pumped themselves into it, as air is forced into apneumatic tyre. The entire world seemed to be going to Liverpool. It wasuncomfortable, but it was magnificent. It was joy, it was life. Thechimneys and kilns of the Five Towns were far away. And Annie, though ina cold perspiration lest she might never see her tin trunk again, wasfeverishly happy. At Liverpool William Henry demanded silver coins fromher. She had a glimpse of her trunk. Then they rattled and jolted andwhizzed in an omnibus to Prince's Landing Stage. And William Henrydemanded more coins from her. A great ship awaited them. Need it be saidthat Douglas was their destination? The deck of the great ship was likea market-place. Annie had never seen such a thing. They climbed up intothe market-place among the shouting, gesticulating crowd. There was areal shop, at which William Henry commanded her to buy a hat-guard. Thehat-guard cost sixpence. At home sixpence was sixpence, and would buyseven pounds of fine mealy potatoes; but here sixpence wasnothing--certainly it was not more than a halfpenny. They wandered andfound other shops. Annie could not believe that all those solid shopsand the whole market-place could move. And she was not surprised, alittle later, to see Prince's Landing Stage sliding away from the ship,instead of the ship sliding away from Prince's Landing Stage. Then theywent underground, beneath the market-place, and Annie found marblehalls, colossal staircases, bookshops, trinket shops, highly-decoratedrestaurants, glittering bars, and cushioned drawing-rooms. They had themost exciting meal in the restaurant that Annie had ever had; also themost expensive; the price of it indeed staggered her; still, WilliamHenry did not appear to mind that one meal should exceed the cost of twodays living in Birches Street. Then they went up into the market-placeagain, and lo! the market-place had somehow of itself got into themiddle of the sea!Before the end of the voyage they had tea at threepence a cup. Anniereflected that the best "Home and Colonial" tea cost eighteenpence apound, and that a pound would make two hundred and twenty cups.Similarly with the bread and butter which they ate, and the jam! But itwas glorious. Not the jam (which Annie could have bettered), but life!Particularly as the sea was smooth! Presently she descried a piece ofchalk sticking up against the horizon, and it was Douglas lighthouse.IIIThere followed six days of delirium, six days of the largest conceivableexistence. The holiday-makers stopped in a superb boarding-house on thepromenade, one of about a thousand superb boarding-houses. The day'sproceedings began at nine o'clock with a regal breakfast, partaken of ata very long table which ran into a bow window. At nine o'clock, in allthe thousand boarding-houses, a crowd of hungry and excited men andwomen sat down thus to a very long table, and consumed the same dishes,that is to say, Manx herrings, and bacon and eggs, and jams. Everybodyate as much as he could. William Henry was never content with less thantwo herrings, two eggs, about four ounces of bacon, and as much jam aswould render a whole Board school sticky. And in four hours after thathe was ready for an enormous dinner, and so was she; and in five hoursafter that they neither of them had the slightest disinclination for atruly high and complex tea. Of course, the cost was fabulous.Thirty-five shillings per week each. Annie would calculate that, withthirty boarders and extras, the boarding-house was taking in money atthe rate of over forty pounds a week. She would also calculate thatabout a hundred thousand herrings and ten million little bones wereswallowed in Douglas each day.But the cost of the boarding-house was as naught. It was the flowing outof coins between meals that deprived Annie of breath. They were alwaysdoing something. Sailing in a boat! Rowing in a boat! Bathing! The Pier!Sand minstrels! Excursions by brake, tram and train to Laxey, Ramsey,Sulby Glen, Port Erin, Snaefell! Morning shows! Afternoon shows! Eveningshows! Circuses, music-halls, theatres, concerts! And then the publicballs, with those delicious tables in corners, lighted by Chineselanterns, where you sat down and drew strange liquids up straws. And itall meant money. There were even places in Douglas where you couldn'toccupy a common chair for half a minute without paying for it. Eachnight Annie went to bed exhausted with joy. On the second night shecounted the money in her bag, and said to William Henry:"How much money do you think we've spent already? Just--""Don't tell me, lass!" he interrupted her curtly. "When I want to know,I'll ask ye."And on the fifth evening of this heaven he asked her:"What'n ye got left?"She informed him that she had five pounds and twopence left, of whichthe boarding-house and tips would absorb four pounds."H'm!" he replied. "It's going to be a bit close."On the seventh day they set sail. The dream was not quite over, but itwas nearly over. On the ship, when the porter had been discharged, shehad two and twopence, and William Henry had the return tickets. Still,this poverty did not prevent William Henry from sitting down andordering a fine lunch for two (the sea being again smooth). Havingordered it, he calmly told his wife that he had a sovereign in hiswaistcoat pocket. A sovereign was endless riches. But it came to an endduring a long wait for the Five Towns train at Crewe. William Henry hadapparently decided to finish the holiday as he had begun it. And the twoand twopence also came to an end, as William Henry, suddenly rememberingthe children of his brother, was determined to buy gifts for them onCrewe platform. At Hanbridge man and wife had sixpence between them. Andthe boy with the barrow, who had been summoned by a postcard, was notvisible. However, a cab was visible. William Henry took that cab."But, Will--""Shut up, lass!" he stopped her.They plunged into the smoke and squalor of the Five Towns, and reachedBirches Street with pomp, while Annie wondered how William Henry wouldcontrive to get credit from a cabman. The entire street would certainlygather round if there should be a scene."Just help us in with this trunk, wilt?" said William Henry to thecabman. This, with sixpence in his pocket!Then turning to his wife, he whispered:"Lass, look under th' clock on th' mantelpiece in th' parlour. Ye'llfind six bob."He explained to her later that prudent members of Going Away Clubsalways left money concealed behind them, as this was the sole way ofproviding against a calamitous return. The pair existed on the remainderof the six shillings and on credit for a week. William Henry became hishard self again. The prison life was resumed. But Annie did not mind,for she had lived for a week at the rate of a thousand a year. And in afortnight William Henry began grimly to pay his subscriptions to thenext year's Going Away Club.

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