Ingrates at the Abbey
Nov. 12th, 2007 07:49 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nineveh_ukEarlier this year, I read P.G. Wodehouse's first "Mike" book, about a cricket-mad boy at boarding school. It was pretty obvious it hadn't been written in 1968 when that edition was published, but even with the employment of a cricketing professional to teach the brothers in the holidays, I should have put its date of writing at any time between 1918 and 1950. 1909 was a bit of a surprise. However, it wasn't quite as much of a surprise as thinking that anyone could have written Maid of the Abbey in 1949, a book that makes the later Chalet School stories resemble up-to-the-minute tales of the swinging sixties. I picked it up at a booksale at the weekend, and it confirms that I am most definintely not an Elsie J. Oxenham fan.
There follows, therefore, fanfic.
“I’m awfully sorry,” said Primrose Peverell, “but I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“I don’t see how,” said Lady Quellyn. “You told Mary-Dorothy on the boat that the very last of your capital had been spent supporting your mother in Madeira, and that now you had to care for your kid sister - with no money for school fees - and hadn’t the least idea of where you were going to go when you reached England.”
“That’s quite true,” admitted Prim, “but I only meant that I hadn’t arranged any lodgings in advance, because I might have some business and wasn’t quite sure if I would have to go to London to see to it. As it happened, my solicitor had managed it perfectly well, and Mary-Dorothy was such a dear on the boat, and so down about being in the Abbey on her own, that it seemed a jolly good idea to come and stay for a month. But I never meant you to think that I needed to be helped, even when Joan did find out that we were cousins, and I certainly don’t need a post as the Countess’s secretary. I have my Oxford degree, and I taught for several years, you know, before I had to go and look after Mummy. I’ve got a residential post at a jolly good school, and Tibby gets a free place. We’ll do very well.”
“But,” Joy, Lady Quellyn frowned under her copper-coloured hair, “my dear Primrose, you don’t want to go and work for a living among strangers, surely? And what about Tibby’s health? Will they be able to watch her well enough in such a big school - and in the North, too!”
“Really, Lady Quellyn, my sister’s health is quite all right. She was a delicate infant, but these days she’s perfectly bouncing, and will be best off forgetting all about it. And it’s very kind of the Countess to offer, but I like teaching, and I don’t want to be a secretary.”
“But you wouldn’t really be an ordinary secretary,” said Lady Quellyn, coaxingly. “Why, Ros would look on you quite as a friend, I’m sure!”
Primrose, who had met the Countess’s previous secretary on their weekend stay at Kentisbury, knew exactly what it meant for the Countess to look on her staff as her friends. I’m never off-duty, the woman had signed, when Prim, anticipating the Countess’s offer, had sought it out to learn whether she ought to recommend her friend Anne to the post. The office stuff isn’t so bad - not exciting, but perfectly good in its way - but oh! I never feel my time’s my own, and as for her views on seeing young men! I had to pretend that Edward was my father’s ward, and that his health meant he could never marry. She had raised her eyebrows significantly and Primrose had laughed.
“Surely the Countess didn’t believe you?”
“Oh, but she did. She was all sorrowful, because he was such a nice man, and said that although I couldn’t fully understand it now, I should when I was married.”
“I’m surprised you stuck it as long as you did!”
“I shouldn’t have, except that it was convenient being close to Edward, and though the pay wasn’t marvellous, at least I could save most of it. But don’t send your friend to it.”
Primrose, whose momentarily abstracted look Lady Quellyn had taken as a hopeful sign of re-consideration, came back to the present with a little shake of her head.
“I’m sorry, but my mind is quite made up,” she said. “I understand that with staff so hard to get these days, it’s been useful having the two of us about to help with the Twins, but we must get on with our own lives. Besides,” she added, reckoning that her bags were all but packed, that Tibby’s limited patience would not bear another nursery meal with the Twins, and that with the exception of Mary-Dorothy she never wanted to see these women and their scrubby little school again and that they looked like the most dreadful sort of hangers-on “I don’t think the Twins are very good company for Tibby. She’s a clever girl, you know, and needs a proper education, not messing about with country dance and music and genteel stuff from the last century. Besides, all this Queens and Club business in grown women is positively Freudian and mother would never forgive me if I exposed Tibby to unwholesome influences.” A car sounded in the lane. “Ah,” she lied briskly, “that will be our taxi. Thank you for everything, Lady Quelleyn, it’s been awfully entertaining. By the way, I observed that Maidlin Robertson is pregnant. Do find a moment to explain the process to her, won’t you? From our conversation on the subject, I take it that she believes babies are found lying in the mother’s bed once she’s knitted enough white jackets, and she’s three concert engagements the week that it’s due.”
It was a long walk to the station, but worth every step.
“Do you know what I think?” said Tibby, swinging her suitcase with vigour. “I think we’ve had a very lucky escape.”
There follows, therefore, fanfic.
“I’m awfully sorry,” said Primrose Peverell, “but I think there’s been a misunderstanding.”
“I don’t see how,” said Lady Quellyn. “You told Mary-Dorothy on the boat that the very last of your capital had been spent supporting your mother in Madeira, and that now you had to care for your kid sister - with no money for school fees - and hadn’t the least idea of where you were going to go when you reached England.”
“That’s quite true,” admitted Prim, “but I only meant that I hadn’t arranged any lodgings in advance, because I might have some business and wasn’t quite sure if I would have to go to London to see to it. As it happened, my solicitor had managed it perfectly well, and Mary-Dorothy was such a dear on the boat, and so down about being in the Abbey on her own, that it seemed a jolly good idea to come and stay for a month. But I never meant you to think that I needed to be helped, even when Joan did find out that we were cousins, and I certainly don’t need a post as the Countess’s secretary. I have my Oxford degree, and I taught for several years, you know, before I had to go and look after Mummy. I’ve got a residential post at a jolly good school, and Tibby gets a free place. We’ll do very well.”
“But,” Joy, Lady Quellyn frowned under her copper-coloured hair, “my dear Primrose, you don’t want to go and work for a living among strangers, surely? And what about Tibby’s health? Will they be able to watch her well enough in such a big school - and in the North, too!”
“Really, Lady Quellyn, my sister’s health is quite all right. She was a delicate infant, but these days she’s perfectly bouncing, and will be best off forgetting all about it. And it’s very kind of the Countess to offer, but I like teaching, and I don’t want to be a secretary.”
“But you wouldn’t really be an ordinary secretary,” said Lady Quellyn, coaxingly. “Why, Ros would look on you quite as a friend, I’m sure!”
Primrose, who had met the Countess’s previous secretary on their weekend stay at Kentisbury, knew exactly what it meant for the Countess to look on her staff as her friends. I’m never off-duty, the woman had signed, when Prim, anticipating the Countess’s offer, had sought it out to learn whether she ought to recommend her friend Anne to the post. The office stuff isn’t so bad - not exciting, but perfectly good in its way - but oh! I never feel my time’s my own, and as for her views on seeing young men! I had to pretend that Edward was my father’s ward, and that his health meant he could never marry. She had raised her eyebrows significantly and Primrose had laughed.
“Surely the Countess didn’t believe you?”
“Oh, but she did. She was all sorrowful, because he was such a nice man, and said that although I couldn’t fully understand it now, I should when I was married.”
“I’m surprised you stuck it as long as you did!”
“I shouldn’t have, except that it was convenient being close to Edward, and though the pay wasn’t marvellous, at least I could save most of it. But don’t send your friend to it.”
Primrose, whose momentarily abstracted look Lady Quellyn had taken as a hopeful sign of re-consideration, came back to the present with a little shake of her head.
“I’m sorry, but my mind is quite made up,” she said. “I understand that with staff so hard to get these days, it’s been useful having the two of us about to help with the Twins, but we must get on with our own lives. Besides,” she added, reckoning that her bags were all but packed, that Tibby’s limited patience would not bear another nursery meal with the Twins, and that with the exception of Mary-Dorothy she never wanted to see these women and their scrubby little school again and that they looked like the most dreadful sort of hangers-on “I don’t think the Twins are very good company for Tibby. She’s a clever girl, you know, and needs a proper education, not messing about with country dance and music and genteel stuff from the last century. Besides, all this Queens and Club business in grown women is positively Freudian and mother would never forgive me if I exposed Tibby to unwholesome influences.” A car sounded in the lane. “Ah,” she lied briskly, “that will be our taxi. Thank you for everything, Lady Quelleyn, it’s been awfully entertaining. By the way, I observed that Maidlin Robertson is pregnant. Do find a moment to explain the process to her, won’t you? From our conversation on the subject, I take it that she believes babies are found lying in the mother’s bed once she’s knitted enough white jackets, and she’s three concert engagements the week that it’s due.”
It was a long walk to the station, but worth every step.
“Do you know what I think?” said Tibby, swinging her suitcase with vigour. “I think we’ve had a very lucky escape.”
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-12 08:29 pm (UTC)I have never read Elsie M Oxenham, and I don't think I'm going to start now. The fic, however, was very entertaining.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 09:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-12 09:28 pm (UTC)I particularly loved the stuff about the secretary - "looked on as a friend" indeed!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 09:09 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-12 09:45 pm (UTC)Primrose and Tibby were lovely.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 09:12 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-12 09:50 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 09:25 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-12 09:56 pm (UTC)I never could get into the Abbey books. I had a copy of The Abbey Girls (it was Mum's when she was young) but never had any desire to read the others. Attempts at reading others have proved that this was a wise decision...
Am still toying with a Bunter/Wimseylet fic, but struggling a little. Watch this space!
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 09:26 am (UTC)::watches space through powerful army device::
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-12 11:23 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 12:00 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-12 11:29 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 12:01 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 11:09 am (UTC)Because I'm insanely determined to read them all in order, I've ground to a halt just before Maid of the Abbey. Ignoring all the retrospectives with the hidden treasure/wills/long-lost heirs helps.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 12:04 pm (UTC)insanely determined to read them all in order
Some sort of wierd self-discipline, is it? If you want Maid of the Abbey and the bizarre retrospective I have somewhere (unless I ditched it) – Strangers at the Abbey? Joy and Joan are terrifically rude to a make-up wearing girl – you are welcome.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 08:47 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-13 03:12 pm (UTC)This made me giggle, though - it's so accurately what would have happened in the real world. And gosh, I'd forgotten how utterly mental Maidlin - not to mention a lot of the general setup of their lives - was.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-14 09:06 am (UTC)It is all completely mad and out of time - so much so I begin to think that the Doctor must be involved somewhere.
(no subject)
Date: 2007-11-14 10:10 am (UTC)