A
Special Occasion
by Joyce Cary
The
nursery door opened and Nurse's voice said in the
surgery tone which she used to little girl guests, "Here you are, darling, and Tommy will show you all his toys."
A little brown-haired girl, in a silk party frock sticking
out all round her legs like a lampshade, came in at the door, stopped, and stared at her
host. Tom, a dark little boy, aged five, also in a party suit, blue linen knickers, and a
silk shirt, stared back at the girl. Nurse had gone into the night nursery, next door, on
her private affairs.
Tom, having stared at the girl for a long time as one would
study a curiosity, rare and valuable, but extremely surprising, put his feet together,
made three jumps forward and said, "Hullo."
The little girl turned her head over
one shoulder and slowly revolved on one heel, as if trying to examine the back of her own
frock. She then stooped suddenly, brushed the hem with her hand, and said, "Hullo."
Tom made another jump, turned round,
pointed out of the window, and said in a loud voice something like "twanky tweedle." Both knew
that neither the gesture nor the phrase was meant to convey a meaning. They simply
expressed the fact that for Tom this was an important and exciting, very special occasion.
The little girl took a step forward, caught her frock in both hands
as if about to make a curtsy, rose upon her toes, and said in a prim voice, "I bed your pardon."
They
both gazed at each other for some minutes with sparkling eyes. Neither smiled, but it
seemed that both were about to smile.
Tom then gave another incomprehensible shout, ran round the table,
sat down on the floor and began to play with a clockwork engine on a circular track. The
little girl climbed on a tricycle and pedalled round the floor. "I can ride your bike," she
said.
Tom
paid no attention. He was trying how fast the engine could go without falling off the
track.
The
little girl took a picture book, sat down under the table with her back to Tom, and
slowly, carefully, examined each page. "It's got a crooked wheel," Tom
said, "that's
what it is." The little girl made no answer. She
was staring at the book with round eyes and a small pursed mouth!the expression of a nervous child at the zoo where the lions are
just going to roar. Slowly and carefully she turned the next page. As it opened, her eyes
became larger, her mouth more tightly pursed, as if she expected some creature to jump out
at her.
"Tom." Nurse, having
completed her private business, came bustling in with the air of one restored to life
after a dangerous illness. "Tom, you naughty |
boy, is
this the way you entertain your guests? Poor little Jenny, all by herself under the table."
The nurse was plump and middle-aged; an old-fashioned nanny.
"She's not by herself,"
Tom said.
"Oh Tom, that really is naughty of you. Where are all your nice
manners? Get up, my dear, and play with her like a good boy."
"I am playing with her," Tom
said, in a surly tone, and he gave Nurse a sidelong glance of anger.
"Now Tom, if you go on telling such stories, I shall know you are
trying to be naughty. Get up now when I ask you." She
stooped, took Tom by the arm, and lifted him up. "Come
now, you must be polite, after you've asked her
yourself and pestered for her all the week."
At this public disclosure, Tom
instantly lost his temper and yelled, "I didn't!I didn't!I won¨t!I won't."
"Then I'll have to take poor little Jenny downstairs again to her
mummy."
"No!no!no."
"Will you play with her, then?"
"No, I hate her!I never wanted
her."
At this the little girl rose and
said, in precise indignant tones, "He is naughty,
isn't he?"
Tom flew at her, and seized her by
the hair; the little girl at once uttered a loud scream, kicked him on the leg, and bit
his arm. She was carried screaming to the door by Nurse, who, from there, issued sentence
on Tom, "I'm
going straight to your father, as soon as he comes in." Then she went out, banging the door.
Tom
ran at the door and kicked it, rushed at the engine, picked it up and flung it against the
wall. Then he howled at the top of his voice for five minutes. He intended to howl all
day. He was suffering from a large and complicated grievance.
All at once the door opened and the little girl walked in. She had
an air of immense self-satisfaction as if she had just done something very clever. She
said in a tone demanding congratulation, "I've come back."
Tom
gazed at her through his tears and gave a loud sob. Then he picked up the engine, sat down
by the track. But the engine fell off at the first push. He gave another sob, looked at
the wheels, and bent one of them straight.
The
little girl lifted her party frock behind in order not to rush it, sat down under the
table, and drew the book on to her knee.
Tom tried the engine at high speed.
His face was still set in the form of anger and bitterness, but he forgot to sob. He
exclaimed with surprise and pleased excitement, "It's the lines too!where I trod
on `em."
The
little girl did not reply. Slowly, carefully, she opened the book in the middle and gazed
at an elephant. Her eyes became immense, her lips minute. But suddenly, and, as it were,
accidentally, she gave an enormous sigh of relief, of very special happiness. |