Chapter 6 5

(six) The next day, Mrs. Hubbard found that the way the day went was particularly irritating to her.She woke up feeling quite relaxed.Nervous doubts caused by some recent events have been relieved.A silly girl who does modern-day silly things is responsible for those things.From now on, everything will return to normal. With this comfortable confidence, Mrs. Hubbard went downstairs to breakfast, only to find her newfound comfort threatened.The students picked this particular morning to be particularly obnoxious, each in his or her individual way. Mr. Chandra Lal, who heard of the sabotage of Elizabeth's papers, became agitated and talkative: "Oppression," he said, "deliberate oppression of native peoples. Contempt and prejudice, color prejudice. It is A well-documented example."

"There, Mr. Lal," snapped Mrs. Hubbard. "You don't have to say that. No one knows who did it or why." "Oh, but I thought Celia went and confessed to you herself," said Jane Tomlinson. "I thought it was amazing that she did that. We all have to be nice to her." "A confession," said Nigel with a shudder. "What a disgusting statement." "I don't see what's wrong with saying that. It's used by Oxford groups, and..." "Oh, for God's sake, must we have the Oxford community for breakfast?" "What the hell is going on with all this? Mom, tell me, was Celia the one who stole those things? Is that why she didn't come down for breakfast?"

"I don't understand, please explain to me," said Mr. Akibombo. No one paid any attention to him, everyone was too eager to speak their words. "Poor kid," said Rain Bateson, "is she in a tight spot or something?" "I'm not actually surprised, you know," Sally said slowly --- "I've always had the idea..." "You mean Celia was the one who spilled the ink on my notebook?" Elizabeth Johnston looked in disbelief. "It seems surprising to me, almost unbelievable." "Celier didn't spill ink on your notebook," said Mrs. Hubbard, "and I wish you all would stop talking about it. I was going to tell you quietly at a later date, but... ..."

"But Jane was eavesdropping outside the door last night," said Valerie. "I didn't eavesdrop, I just happened to go to..." "Come on, Beth," said Nigel, "you know pretty well who spilled the ink. Me, bad Nigel, with my little green inkwell. I spilled the ink." "He didn't. He was just lying! Oh, Nigel, how can you be so stupid?" "I'm being honorable and defending you, Patricia. Who borrowed my inkwell yesterday morning? It was you." "I don't understand, please explain to me." Ajinbangbo said. "You don't want to know," Sally told him. "If I were you, I'd stay out of it."

Mr. Chandra Lal stood up. "You ask why Egypt resents the Suez Canal?" "Oh, fuck!" Nigel said excitedly, forcing the glass back on the saucer. "First the Oxford group, now politics! At breakfast! I'm leaving." "It's cold outside, you must put on your coat." Patricia hurried after him and said. "Heh, heh, heh," said Valerie curtly, "she'll be feathered soon, like a big hen." The French girl, Genevieve, whose English was not good enough to understand a quick conversation, had been listening carefully to Renée explaining to her softly in her ear.Now she's spewing out a string of French at a rapid pace.

Colin Macna had been trying to make himself heard, but his deep, languid words were drowned out by some high notes.Now he gave up his noble demeanor and clenched his fists and looked at the table with such a force that everyone fell silent in fright. "Shut up all of you and listen to me. I've never heard anything more rude, childish, heartless! Don't any of you know a little bit of psychology? It's not just the girl to blame, I To tell you. She is going through a serious emotional crisis and she needs to be treated with the utmost compassion and care - or she may continue to struggle with life. I warn you, the utmost care - this is what she needs."

"But, after all," Jane said in a clear, businesslike tone. "Even though we're pretty equally human—we're not supposed to condone that kind of thing, are we? Stealing, I mean." "Steal," said Colin. "It's not stealing. Pooh! You're disgusting to me--all of you." "Is she an interesting case?" Valerie said, grinning at him. "If you're interested in the workings of the mind, yes." "Of course she didn't take anything from me," Jane said, "but I really think..." "Yes, she didn't take anything from you," said Colin sadly. "If you knew a little bit of the meaning, you probably wouldn't be so happy."

"Really, I don't understand..." "Oh, come on, Jane," said Ryan Bateson, "let's stop nagging. I'm going to be late, and so are you." They walk out together. "Tell Celia to cheer up," he said over his shoulder. "I would like to file a formal protest," Mr Chandra Lal said. "The boron powder, which was so necessary for my irritated eyes, was taken away." "You'll be late too, Mr. Chandra Lal," said Mrs. Hubbard firmly. "My professor is often not punctual," said Mr. Chandra Lal despondently, but moved to the door nonetheless. "Also, he gets angry and unreasonable when I ask a lot of questions out of my research instinct—" Genevieve said in French.

"You've got to speak English, Genevieve—you'll never learn English if you speak French when you get excited. And you haven't paid for your dinner here this Sunday." "Ah, I don't have a purse with me now. Tonight—" the French came out again. "Please," said Mr. Akibombo with pleading eyes. "I do not understand." "Let's go together, Archimbumble," said Sally, "I'll tell you on the way." She asked Mrs. Hubbard to give her a reassuring nod, and then led the bewildered Akibombo out of the restaurant. "My God," said Mrs. Hubbard, taking a deep breath. "Why on earth should I take this job!"

The only one left, Valerie, grinned in a friendly manner. "Don't worry, Mom," she said. "It's always a good thing to find out! Everyone's on edge." "I must say I was very surprised." "Because it turned out to be Celia?" "Yes, wouldn't you?" Valerie said in a somewhat absent-minded voice: "It's kind of obvious, really, I should have thought of that." "Have you been thinking about it?" "Well, there's one or two things that strike me as odd. Anyway, she got Colin as she wanted."

"Yes, I can't help but feel that this is not right." "You can't get a man with a gun," Valerie laughed. "But pretend to be a bit of a kleptomaniac and get away with it? Don't worry, Ma, and, for God's sake, tell Celia to give her back Genevieve's compact, or we'll have to eat at dinner." There will never be peace." Mrs. Hubbard sighed and said: "Nigel cracked his saucer." "Damn morning, isn't it?" said Valerie.She walked out.Mrs. Hubbard heard her cheery voice say in the hall: "Morning, Celia. The timing is right. All is clear and all will be forgiven. As for Colin, he roars like a lion for you." Celia walked into the dining room.Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. "Oh, Mrs. Hubbard." "You're too late, Celia. The coffee's cold, and there's not much left to eat." "I don't want to meet other people." "That's what I suppose. But you're going to meet them sooner or later." "Oh, yes, I know. But I think—by this evening—it'll be easier. And of course I'm not staying here. I'm leaving this weekend. Mrs. Hubbard frowned. "I don't think it's necessary. You have to be prepared for some minor upsets - that's fair - but they're generally open-minded young people. Of course you have to make it up as much as you can." Celia interrupted her eagerly. "Oh yes, I brought the checkbook. That's one of the things I wanted to talk to you about." She was holding a checkbook and an envelope. "I wrote a letter just in case you weren't here when I came down to tell you how sorry I was. I was going to put a check in it and ask you to settle the account with them. —but my pen is out of water.” "We have to make a list." "I've listed it—as much as I can. But I don't know whether to buy a new one and return it or just pay it back." "I'll think about it, it's hard to say right away." "Oh, but do let me write you a check now. I'll feel better about it." Mrs. Hubbard, who was about to say forcefully "Really? Why should we make you feel better," thought that the whole thing would be easier since the students were always short of cash.And it would appease Genevieve, who might be in trouble with Mrs. Nicoletis. "Okay," she said, looking at her watch. "It's hard to say right away how much it's going to cost." Celia said eagerly: "You first give an approximate amount, and I'll give it to you, and then you go to ask them to refund more or make up for less." "Okay," said Mrs. Hubbard tentatively, an overestimated sum, and Celia immediately agreed.She opens the checkbook. "Oh, my pens are disgusting," she said, going to the shelf where the various students' sundries were kept, "there doesn't seem to be anything in here except Nigel's terrible green ink, oh, I'll use this ink, Nigel Jill won't care." She filled the fountain pen, walked back, and wrote the check. After giving the check to Mrs. Hubbard, she glanced at her watch. "I'm going to be late. I'd better skip breakfast." "You'd better eat a little, Celia—even a little bread and butter—it's not good to go out on an empty stomach. What's the matter?" The Italian valet Geronimo enters.making strong gestures. "Boss, she just came in and she wants to see you." He added, "She's very angry." Mrs. Hubbard leaves the dining room while Celia eagerly slices off a slice of bread. Mrs. Nicoletis walked about her room like a lion. "What did I hear?" she said immediately. "You called the police? Didn't you tell me first? Who do you think you are?" "I didn't call the police." "you're lying." "Mrs. Nicoletis, you can't say that about me." "Oh, no. I'm wrong, not you. I'm always wrong. Everything you do is perfect. The police come to my noble house." "It won't be the first time," said Mrs. Hubbard, recalling various unpleasant incidents. "There used to be a West Indian student wanted by the police for living on immoral earnings, and a young communist agitator who came to live here under a false name—and—" "Ah, what is your mother doing to gag me? Is it my fault that they came here with fake papers to lie to me, and the police told them to explain the murder? You blame me for my suffering." "I didn't mean that. I just called the police. It's not new to come here - maybe some complicated students live here, it's inevitable. But the fact is that the police were not called. A very A reputable private investigator happened to be here for dinner last night at my invitation. He gave a lecture on criminology to the students." "You're talking as if it's necessary to give some criminological talk to my students! They already know quite a bit. Enough to steal, sabotage, conspire as they please! And nobody figured out how to deal with—what No action was taken!" "I've taken some action." "Yes, you have told this friend of ours our most intimate affairs. It can be said to be an invasion of privacy." "Not at all. I run the place. I'm happy to tell you that it's cleared up now. One student admitted that she was responsible for most of this incident." "Throw her into the street." "She is going to leave here voluntarily, and she is making full compensation." "What good is it? My beautiful 'student home' is now in disrepute. No one will live here." Mrs. Nicoletis sat on the sofa, tears welling up. "Nobody thinks about how I feel, who cares if I die tomorrow?" Mrs. Hubbard wisely did not answer the question and went out the door. "May God grant me patience," she said to herself, and went downstairs to the kitchen to talk to Mariel. Mariel was not cooperative. The word "police" was avoided, but it lingered in the air. "It's me who will be sued. Me and Geronimo - what justice can you expect in a foreign land? No, I can't make a stew the way you suggest - they sent the wrong rice. I do Made spaghetti instead. "We had spaghetti last night." "It doesn't matter, in my country we eat macaroni every day - every day." "Yes, but you are in England now." "Well, then I'll make a stew. An English stew. You won't like it, but I'll make it anyway, and make it ghastly." Mariel spoke so menacingly that Mrs. Hubbard felt that she was listening to her account of a murder. At six o'clock that evening, Mrs. Hubbard resumed her usual efficiency.She left notes in all the students' rooms asking them to see her before dinner, and when they all complied, she explained what Celia wanted her to do for her.She thought they were all doing well.Even Genevieve, softened by the generous valuation of her compacts, was happy to say let the past go. Wren Bateson took Mrs. Hubbard aside as she came downstairs. "I'll wait for Celia in the hall outside," he said, "and bring her in. Just to let her know it's all right." When everyone was passing the soup, Ren's voice came from the hall. "Come in, all your friends are here." Nigel said maliciously: "He finally did a good thing today." However, besides that, he controlled his tongue and raised his hand to greet Ryan when he walked in with Celia's shoulders in his arms. All kinds of pleasant conversations erupted, and they talked to Celia one by one. Almost inevitably, this show of kindness fades into suspicious silence.Mr. Akibombo turned to Celia with a smile on his face: "They have told me everything I didn't understand at the time. You are very good at stealing things." Sally Finch said aloud, "Akimbumber, you're going to kill me," and the audience burst out laughing completely naturally. Colin Macna was late.He seemed reserved, less talkative than usual.Before the others had finished eating, he stood up and said in a vague, embarrassing voice: "Going out to see someone. Wanted to start by telling you all that Celia and I hope to get married next year when I finish my degree." Flushing and miserable, he accepted his friend's congratulations, cheers, and finally fled very timidly.Celia, on the other hand, was pink and poised. "There's a good man 'Gone West,'" sighed Rain Bateson. "I'm so happy, Celia," said Patricia, "I hope you will be very happy." "Everything is perfect now," Nigel said. "Why does our dear Jane look so heavy? Don't you approve of marriage, Jane?" "Of course not, Nigel." "I've always thought marriage was more fun than unbridled. It's better for the kids, their passports will look better." "But mothers shouldn't be too young," said Genevieve. "Talked about an example in our physiology class." "Really, dear," said Nigel, "you're not implying that Celia isn't 'age of consent'? She's unmarried, white, twenty-one." "That," said Mr. Chandra Lal, "is the most profane thing to say." "No, no, Mr. Chandra Lal," Patricia said. "It's just—an idiom. It doesn't mean much." "I don't understand," said Mr. Akibombo. "If a sentence doesn't mean anything, why say it?" said Elizabeth Johnston, suddenly raising her voice a little. "Sometimes words that don't seem to mean much mean a lot. No, I don't mean that American phrase you said, I mean something else." She looked around the table. "I'm talking about what happened yesterday." Valerie said suddenly: "What's the matter, Beth?" "Oh, please," Celia said. "I think--I really do--to-morrow it'll be all over. I mean it. The ink on your papers, and that knapsack thing. If--if that man was like me Confess it, and it will all be revealed." She spoke eagerly, her face flushed, and one or two people looked at her strangely. Valerie let out a short laugh and said: "And then we'll all live happily ever after." Then they all got up and went into the saloon.They kind of raced to coffee for Celia.Then the radio was turned on, some students left to keep appointments or do homework, and finally the inhabitants of 24 and 26 Hickory Road went to bed. It had been a long and tiring day, Mrs. Hubbard reflected, feeling grateful that the day was finally over, and slipped under the covers. "Thank goodness," she said to herself. "It's all over now."