Their Exits and their Entrances: The New Chronicles of Barset: Book Two Read online

  THEIR EXITS AND THEIR ENTRANCES

  The New Chronicles of Barset:

  Book Two

  By Ilil Arbel

  Originally published by the Angela Thirkell Society of North America

  Copyright© 2010 by Ilil Arbel

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States; originally published by the Angela Thirkell Society of North America

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the author.

  Cover by Deborah Conn

  ALSO BY ILIL ARBEL

  The Lemon Tree

  Maimonides: A Spiritual Biography

  The Cinnabar Box

  Witchcraft: A History of Wicca

  Madame Koska and the Imperial Brooch

  Miss Glamora Tudor!

  On the Road to Ultimate Knowledge

  Anunnaki Ultimatum: End of Time

  The Cinnabar Box

  Chapter One

  “Lady Norton, I am devastated,” said Mr. Goldwasser. “I don’t know what to say, how to apologize.”

  “But why, Mr. Goldwasser?” said the Dreadful Dowager, wagging her tall hairdo graciously. “It’s of no consequence!”

  “No consequence? My dear Lady Norton, when I give my word, I don’t take it back. Now I am forced to do so!”

  “But you are not taking it back, Mr. Goldwasser. You are only postponing the filming by a few months, and I hope you will return soon enough.”

  “Of course, but you will have to put your house in order, and then rearrange it again for the filming. Such imposition!”

  “I will touch nothing, Mr. Goldwasser. Since the war, I do not entertain on a lavish scale. I will be perfectly comfortable leaving everything as you have arranged it, and waiting for your return.”

  “You are so gracious, Lady Norton. You really make me feel better,” said Mr. Goldwasser, for once feeling that the difficult lady was acting very kindly.

  “And don’t forget, Mr. Goldwasser, that your generosity in paying me half my fee in advance allows me to construct the cacti and succulents hothouse I have been longing for,” said Lady Norton enthusiastically.

  “With your extensive conservatories, do you really need to build a new construction?” asked Mr. Goldwasser, surprised.

  “Oh, yes. These plants require very specific conditions, and the hothouse I plan will be highly specialized. I will have to order much of the equipment in the United States. It will cost a great deal of money, but it will be worth it.”

  “Will you write a new book about the subject?” asked Mr. Goldwasser. He had no interest whatsoever in horticulture, and this was probably a sycophantic behaviour, but he felt he owed something to Lady Norton, be it such a small thing as showing an interest in her avocation.

  “Only if I can find a specimen or two of Echinocactus horizonthalonius var. nicholii,” said Lady Norton with the sudden wild, fanatic look of the plant enthusiast.

  “A what?” said Mr. Goldwasser, bewildered.

  “Allow me to show you,” said Lady Norton with the air of a monarch who was about to bestow a rare treat on a favourite subject. She took a folder from her desk, brought it Mr. Goldwasser, and opened it. Inside were pictures of something that Mr. Goldwasser could only describe as a nightmare. He knew it had to be some kind of a cactus, having seen so many in California, but other than that he could not tell what the ghastly thing was. In one of the pictures, the plant was growing out of a rock, which it had obviously split, and an elongated stalk-like protuberance was squeezed between the two halves of the rock, on which sat a grey-green globe, covered with a filthy yellowish wool-like substance and ferocious spines. As he stared at the picture, Mr. Goldwasser felt it was unthinkable that even Lady Norton would willingly submit herself to looking at the revolting object, let alone write a book about it.

  “Eh, how interesting, what is it?” he asked cautiously.

  “It is a rare variety of Echinocactus that grows only in Arizona,” said Lady Norton, gazing lovingly at some of the many pictures of the monster that she had in her file. “Its common relatives grow abundantly in Texas and Mexico, but not this treasure. It thrives only on alluvial fans composed of limestone-derived soils in the Waterman and Vekol Mountains.”

  “Would it grow in England?” asked Mr. Goldwasser, to whom the unrecognizable words “alluvial fans” suggested dinosaurs and primordial landscapes oozing with slime. He soon recollected that the oozing slime would not be suitable for the desert-like environments where the adored object was probably most happy to grow, slime being more in accordance with a primeval forest where large lizards lurked, so the whole thing was a mystery. However, he was determined not to ask for a detailed explanation.

  “Yes, I believe so, if I can prepare the proper hothouse for it. I plan to reproduce the exact conditions the plants enjoy in their natural environment; I will even attempt to import the limestone soil.”

  “Well, if I can be of help, just let me know,” said Mr. Goldwasser feebly, and perhaps rather rashly, considering Lady Norton’s straightforward approach when asking for favours.

  “Thank you, Mr. Goldwasser. How very kind.”

  “I should go and tell the crew that we have settled everything, Lady Norton; they will be pleased. Ever since I got the telegram from one of my partners, Joe Mammoth, I was really angry, and the whole crew was rather perplexed. I can’t believe he rearranged the filming schedule without consulting me first. Well, he will hear from me, you may be sure of that…”

  Lady Norton, who was secretly a little afraid of Mr. Goldwasser, felt that she would not want to be in Mr. Mammoth’s place and bear Mr. Goldwasser’s wrath.

  “And you would think Harry Guttenberg, my other partner at GMG, would have stopped him, right? I simply can’t understand it,” Mr. Goldwasser continued.

  “But what exactly did he do, what happened?” asked Lady Norton.

  “As you know, we were going to film the sequel to Send Me No Lilies, then go back to Hollywood and work on Mr. Clover’s play, Dance We Shall, converting it to a large-scale musical. Since Glam is starring in both films, they can’t be produced simultaneously. Joe knew all about it, and yet he made all the arrangements, the fool, setting up studio space, hiring people, contacting the script writers, etc., ordering everyone to be ready to start almost immediately. The musical is so big and expensive, that we simply can’t reverse his actions.”

  “Script writers? So Miss Robinson will not work on Dance We Shall?”

  “No, Maisie Robinson is strictly romantic films, not musicals… But I am thinking of letting Alcott do it; he will have a name after Send Me No Lilies is released. I think the boy has serious star quality. We’ll see. Of course, if he were allowed to do the sequel first, it would have been so much better. This change is so unexpected and stupid; what a mess. Ah, well, one must resign oneself to higher powers, as we say in Montana.”

  “Montana? Is Montana near Arizona?” asked Lady Norton.

  “No,” said Mr. Goldwasser. “They are at a considerable distance. Why do you ask?”

  “I thought perhaps, since you are from Montana, you knew some people in Arizona, where I am trying to obtain my cactus specimens.”

  “Actually, I was only joking, Lady Norton. I was born in Brooklyn. Montana is just a catch word with me, and then I generally do an imitation of John Wayne... it works well in meetings with some of my associates, but I will spare you
that. However, I do know people in Arizona; it borders California. When I get back to Hollywood I will ask Miss Brinton to get in touch with them and make sure to find a contact in a botanical garden. This should do the trick and get you seeds, at least. These, ah, things, have seeds, right?”

  “Oh, yes, seeds would be just as good as a specimen. Better perhaps, because the journey to England might damage such delicate plants. I am sure I could sprout them, and such a scientific experiment will add a significant scholarly touch to the book. Thank you so much for your interest, Mr. Goldwasser.”

  And as Mr. Goldwasser was returning to his crew, musing about the long, sharp thorns of the so-called fragile little cactus and its horrifying and brutal ability to split stone without any tools, Lady Norton left the house, and sailed majestically into the grounds, to search for an ideal situation for the new hothouse that would soon protect and cherish the ugliest collection of plants in England.

  “Glam, have you ever heard the words ‘alluvial fans’ mentioned in polite conversation?” asked Mr. Goldwasser pensively.

  “No, it sounds horrible,” said Glamora. “Like something out of the science fiction films we used to make, with giant lizards and things. What is it?”

  “I have no idea. Lady Norton wants some.”

  “Why?” asked Glamora.

  “She needs the stuff to raise some awful plants. I am stuck with it, since I am supposed to get in touch with a botanical expert in Arizona for her.”

  “Jake, you did not have to promise her that. You always get yourself into these situations, above and beyond, really.”

  “I guess I felt guilty because of the trouble we are giving her with the change of plans, and after all, I do know Professor Erasmus van der Vere Hamilton from the botanical gardens in Arizona, where this monstrous cactus she is infatuated with lives. She looked at its pictures with love light in her eyes. Glam, the thing broke a rock out of which it grew… it’s scary.”

  “Well, I suppose getting the two plant fanatics together will do no harm. But how did she take the change in plans?”

  “Very well, I must say. I’m beginning to almost like the old horse,” said Mr. Goldwasser with complete lack of chivalry.

  “That is one obstacle removed, Jake. But now you must speak to Mr. Clover and Mrs. Rivers.”

  “I am not worried about Clover. We will work something out; he is the most reasonable man I could ever hope to work with, and he understands my business as well as I do. Sometimes I have a strange feeling that he almost turns into a film producer when we talk. But Mrs. Rivers… I think the only way to appease her would be to invite her to come with us. She has this great desire to study Hollywood from close up.”

  “Heaven help us, Jake; she will want to stay with us…” said Glamora resignedly. “Well, when we must, we must.”

  “I simply can’t go, Mr. Goldwasser,” said Aubrey. “I am committed to the current play.”

  “Of course, I am fully aware of that. I would not expect you to throw your play away and rush to Hollywood. I am not sure how to proceed, but we will work something out. I thought you might have an idea, you usually do.”

  “As a matter of fact, I do indeed have an idea, Mr. Goldwasser,” said Aubrey, turning into Talleyrand, the man behind the throne who, at a whim, could create and ruin empires. “I would like to send Edmond as my substitute playwright. He is ready. In addition, he studied all my plays and he knows them by heart. Rather flattering.”

  “Now that is a brilliant idea. And when needed, we will send long telegrams, and place trunk calls, as you call long-distance conversations here. We will manage.”

  “Edmond will do very well, I am sure, Mr. Goldwasser. He can turn a phrase as well as I do, as long as it is funny. The boy is a complete flop with drama, but a genius with comedy.”

  “Would you allow me to invite little Emma to come with us? Could she take a break from her studies?”

  “Yes, she could. She is apprenticing, not attending classes, so everything can be easily rearranged. How very generous and kind of you to invite her, Mr. Goldwasser. But don’t you think she may be a nuisance, when all of you are working and she has nothing to do? What will she do with herself?”

  “Run around with Glam to all the couture houses and all the design departments,” said Mr. Goldwasser, laughing. “They will have a grand time. Glam will introduce her to very influential designers. Besides, Keith will be happier with his fiancée coming along for the ride.”

  Aubrey tried not to flinch from the horrible word “fiancée,” and decided not to hold it against Mr. Goldwasser, who was, after all, an American, and therefore, at least to some extent, spoke a foreign language.

  “Mr. Goldwasser! How delightful!”

  “So you don’t mind the postponement of the sequel, Mrs. Rivers?”

  “Of course not! Not when you invite me to go with you to Hollywood! I have been longing for an opportunity to study it.”

  “As a backup for the book about the famous middle-aged actress, who is secretly married, I suppose?” said Mr. Goldwasser with a smile. “There is no longer a single objection to the book. Just between you and me, Mrs. Rivers, I have already leaked a few rumours about Glam and me being married, to one of the worst gossips in Hollywood. Now we just wait for the series of explosions.”

  And indeed a few hours later, as the Company was dismantling equipment, packing costumes, and generally getting ready, the first explosion came in the form of a very long telegram. “Darling Jake, I was shocked to hear how you and sweet Glamora have been deceiving us all these years! I have always suspected that you were living in sin, but had not a single proof. This is so much better, such a thrill for everyone, a secret marriage! Could anyone think of anything more romantic, even for people your age? All the papers are soon to be full of it… etc.”

  Glamora laughed when Mr. Goldwasser showed her the telegram. “Even for people your age… this witch will never lose an opportunity to insult me, bless her vicious little heart... Well, I am not insulted at all. I can now move officially to your house, Jake. What a relief this will be… let’s sell my house and become a nice old married couple, living in peace.”

  “Indeed, love. So much easier, you were so right. And I have some good news for you. Clover is sending Keith to substitute for him, and I invited Emma to come along for the ride.”

  “How delightful! We’ll have Hank and Emma, it will be such fun!” said Glamora, the large violet eyes shining with anticipation of a much better time than she had originally expected. “It reconciles me to entertaining Mrs. Rivers! Well, almost…”

  Emma, who was in a perpetual state of speechlessness and awe due to the excitement of the trip, sat in Lydia’s dining room and watched Palmer, who was engaged in setting up tea. The next day everyone was to meet in London, to board the aeroplane that would take them to America, and Emma could not believe that this was really happening. No one else came in for tea yet, and Emma began to notice, despite her own giddy mood, that Palmer’s silence had become extremely eloquent.

  “Is something wrong, Palmer?” she asked diffidently.

  “Well, Miss Emma, it’s not for me to say. I know my place.”

  “But I am the only one here, Palmer. Surely you could tell me?” said Emma, who clearly saw that Palmer was almost bursting with a burning desire to air her views.

  “I don’t like all this gallivanting,” said Palmer. “It worries me something dreadful, Miss Emma.”

  “Gallivanting? What do you mean?”

  “I read my Bible regular-like,” said Palmer. “And you know who he was that was always going to and fro in the earth, as he told the Good Lord.”

  “No, I am sorry, I do not know that,” said Emma uncomfortably.

  “It was Old Nick,” said Palmer darkly. She did not like to mention Satan’s name and preferred the euphemism, just in case.

  “Did he really?” asked Emma, not quite sure how to proceed on these philosophical and religious lines.

  �
��Yes indeed, Miss Emma, also walking up and down in it, as is written in the Book of Job. No good can come from all this gadding about, and wandering the earth, and particularly flying in an aeroplane, which is an abomination.”

  “But so many people fly in aeroplanes these days, Palmer. How else should we go there and be in time for the filming?”

  “Filming!” said Palmer, who was extremely proud of the fact that she had never set foot in the Barchester Odeon, which was not entirely true, since she did attend one of Glamora Tudor’s films. But as she understood absolutely nothing, and was so outraged by Glamora’s daring costumes that she left the theatre in the middle of the film, she felt it did not count and her purity was unsullied. “And from what I hear about the goings-on in Hollywood, it’s no better than Sodom and Gomorrah. The girls in the kitchen showed me one of them Hollywood magazines once. I told them they ought to be ashamed of themselves, and did no one bring them up properly, to read such shameful things, and I wanted to throw it into the fire, but Cook tooked it. She said there was no harm in it. No harm, I ask you…”

  “When I was visiting the Towers, Cook and the housemaid read my tea leaves, and they saw an ocean voyage for me. But I suppose it had to be changed since everyone is in such a great hurry to get to Hollywood.”

  “An ocean trip is no better, Miss Emma. We was never meant to fly in the air or to swim in the water, and we was never intended to go so far. It is defying Providence to do so, it is,” said Palmer. “And all this hurrying and bustling is sinful, too. There is Time for Everything Under the Sun…” and Palmer left the room with the air of a Cassandra who did her painful duty by delivering a message from the gods, or better yet, a Biblical Prophetess, and had done so much against her will. Emma looked after her, amazed at the sudden godly airs Palmer adopted, and Noel came into the room.