He went to his mother’s house in Sloane Street, and asked for his old room.
XXIX
Mrs. Pollard was astonished and distressed when her son told her that he wanted to use his old room for a few weeks. She guessed, in spite of his carefully vague explanations, that something had gone wrong between him and Joyce.
His “explanation” left much to be explained. He suggested that Joyce was immensely upset by the proposed sale of Holme Ottery, and might stay down there a while to see the last of the old home. But that was no reason why he shouldn’t stay with her, or go back to the little house in Holland Street. He countered that by saying he hated loneliness, and as he had to keep close to town for his literary work, preferred to take up his old bachelor quarters. Besides, it would be good to see so much of his mother again.
“Aren’t you pleased, little mother?”
He had the humiliation of asking her to lend him some money, but to her it was a pleasure, and she wrote him a cheque for more than he could use in a twelve-month, and said, “With my love and blessing, dear!”
She knew he was concealing some secret from her. His face, which she could read like an open book—so much like her own!—told her that he was suffering a hidden wound, which hurt him horribly. He couldn’t hide much from a mother who lay awake at night listening to his footsteps pacing up and down in his room overhead—would he never go to sleep?—and who heard him groan now and then, like a tortured soul.
“I’m afraid you had a bad night, dear,” she would say in the morning, and wouldn’t believe him when he said, “Oh, no. I slept all right after thinking out a few things.”
She accepted all his explanations for her husband’s benefit. Michael, to whom she announced the news of his son’s home-coming, did not see any mystery underlying it, but only inconvenience to the servants who had been reduced in number since the break-up of the family. He had a respectful admiration for Joyce Bellairs as the daughter of the Earl of Ottery, and sympathised—he said—with her sentiment about the old house. Doubtless she would wish to stay there before it was bought by some American millionaire or some war-profiteer. Most natural and commendable. As for Bertram, he hoped the boy would spare him political altercations—they seemed to disagree on most subjects—and any reference to more painful episodes which he had entirely removed from his mind. By that, as Mrs. Pollard knew, he referred to his eldest daughter’s German marriage, and Susan’s Irish adventure.
Bertram “spared” him everything with regard to these forbidden subjects. He met his father only at breakfast, and exchanged a few commonplace remarks over the eggs and bacon. Their first greeting had been characteristic of the somewhat strained relations existing between them.