A Notable Woman. Jean Lucey Pratt
am home again. This term’s report is a simply amazing one. Miss Harris said to me when I was going, ‘Hope you have very jolly holidays Jean – you deserve them.’ My English has developed amazingly – that essay on ‘Night’ was rather a hit. I wonder if I could get Matric?7 It would be such a splendid triumph.
Last night at half past ten Leslie took me for an hour’s run in Pipsqueak.8 Somewhere out Edgware way. As we sped along some straight wide road Leslie murmured, ‘The road is a river of moonlight/Over the dusky moor.’
It was rather like that – all the flat uninteresting country on either side hidden by a misty darkness, only the moon and the white stars in a clear hard sky. The thrill of the hour, of speeding through places made totally unfamiliar by the night, passing alone with my brother at midnight. Such things are stored in gold in my memory.
Tuesday, 24 May
I said goodbye to Leslie over a week ago. We all got up very early, and Daddy and I went to see him off at Euston. I put on my holiday clothes to see him off. I wonder if he saw the tears in my eyes when I kissed him goodbye. He was standing at the back of the carriage in the shadow – silent – and the train slowly, heartlessly, took him away. All those golden weeks were over. Three whole years, and the most terrible time in front of me.
Saturday, 28 May
We played Luckley this afternoon – cricket 2nd XI. Theirs was more or less an A team. Anyway they won 80–74. I made 9 runs, caught one person out, and took one wicket.
Saturday, 11 June
Today I went home. There were cherries, strawberries, tall blue lupins, white foxgloves, geraniums, early roses. There was the newly painted kitchen, but Leslie’s room was empty and silent and a white dust sheet covered the bed. Things he had left behind – magazines, ashtrays, the fencing foils, an old coat – were scattered about my room waiting to be cleared away.
Then I came back to school again, and the Junior party was simply wonderful. They acted Peter Rabbit and Benjamin Bunny, then we made handkerchief animals, each form competing. Then we had light refreshments! There were scenes from Wind in the Willows, then hide and seek.
There is only one more week before the exams. French oral is on Weds.
Sunday, 12 June
I am in a most amusing and entertaining position at the moment. I think I may safely say that I have no attachments to particular people to consider. I stand a little apart, alone yet never really lonely. There are always plenty of people who are quite pleased to have me if I want to come: Laura, Phyllis Yeld, Rosemary G., Doreen Grove, Phyllis Stephenson and Betty Andrews. The latter I like most of all, yet I don’t feel pledged to her in any way.
Then there is Gwyneth and Dorothy. There is only one way to deal with Gwyneth. That is to elude her for a time. I am not strong enough to dominate her or to keep her as my friend. You have to make her run after you. It is a deadly mistake to run after Gwyneth. Gwyneth is an incorrigible gossip – you never know what she might be saying about you behind your back. Today we were in the garden and we could see Laura P. and Phyllis taking each other’s photos, and Gwyneth made some unwholesome remarks about them. They couldn’t possibly have heard from where they were, but after supper I was sitting with Yeld, Prideaux and Grissell, and during a discussion about people generally Gwyneth and Dorothy were mentioned. ‘I always feel,’ said Yeld to me, ‘that those two are watching us. When Laura and I were taking photos of each other in the garden I was sure they were talking of us.’ I chuckled inwardly.
Thursday, 23 June
The worst of them are over – finished. Arithmetic, History, Geometry, French, Algebra and English. I have washed them away in my bath tonight and now I am between clean sheets and in clean pyjamas.
I do not think I have got Matric. I wrote a fairly decent essay on Modern Communication. The Grammar I think I did fairly well on too, perhaps I have got Credit. The Set Books I am not so sure about. Algebra – of course that was unspeakable. I have obviously failed in that. The French was better than I expected. The Geom was better in comparison to the Algebra. History of course – well, I cannot say. Miss Stapley said I was her ‘hope’ just before I went in. One question we have all done wrong: the Civil War of 1649 we all took to be the First Civil War, 1642–46. The Arithmetic was amazingly easy – too easy I think. I have yet to pass in Drawing and Botany, which I think I shall do.
Although it has been a very long week, this week has been by far the nicest. The free half-hour in the garden before the exams, swinging high up level with the gym windows and the wind in your hair, the scent and colour of the herbaceous border, the thrill of being a candidate – the privileges and prestige! It is all over now and the days will never be the same.
Tuesday, 28 June
I had thought there was no heart left in me and I had killed that wayward passion for Miss Wilmott long ago. But tonight as I came in late from the garden at 8.45 she came in through the doors into the Back Hall. There was no one there but she and I and I was in a hurry, but as I dashed around the corner of the stairs I said ‘goodnight’ as she passed. The light was dim and the shadows long, but she turned her head and I think she may have smiled as she said ‘Goodnight Jean’ in the way she used to do two years ago. I knew in that moment I could have died for her and that I shall never be able to forget. ‘Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.’9 I believe that she may grow to care more than I have ever cared to hope. What can I do? She lives in a world of games and speed and swift thought – hard practical ideas – and straight, slim eager girls who love to do difficult and complicated things on ropes and bars and things and who scorn such lazy ones as I. She said, ‘So long as you try I will help you – I will help you for ever if only you’ll try.’
Monday, 25 July
It has come, that dreamed-of long-dreaded hour when I sit alone for the last time in my room at PHC.10 Miss Parker has made me an Old Girl. I shall be able to come back next term and see those who are not leaving. I cannot believe that it is all over. I have not been able to see or speak to A.W. But at least I can write.
Wednesday, 27 July
And now I am home again. It is half-past six in the morning and I am going to get up soon and make the tea. It is raining.
3.
Such a Long Way Down
Saturday, 13 August 1927
I just loathe Ethel when she begins making subtle remarks about my future prospects. I hate it. I don’t want to get married. She thinks she’ll get all the sugar when I’ve chosen a husband. She shan’t. I shall run away – anywhere. She shall have nothing to do with my babies if I ever have any. Mother had all the hard work, and Ethel will get all the ‘juicy bits’ of being a grandmother. There’ll be a bust-up one of these days, such a bust-up. They are both on the landing and Daddy tried the door just now. I am doing ‘very private work’.
Sunday, 14 August
I think I must tell you about my farewell to A.W. For the very last few days of term Miss Hawkes had been taking roll-call, but on Tuesday morning (the last day) she went with the Irish mail. I made a rapid calculation that it was 10–1 A.W. might be taking her place. When the 7.40 bell went I prayed it might be so I went to investigate. And she was there, standing just outside the Big Hall watching us drift downstairs. It was my one and only chance and I grabbed it.
‘You’ll be going directly after breakfast, won’t you Miss Wilmott,’ I said. ‘Well I don’t expect I shall see you so I’ll say goodbye now.’ She shook hands with me. There was a wonderful light in her eyes and she smiled and said goodbye and then waited … I believe she knew I might say something else. Then it was like