Telltale

Telltale

Ellie loved her father, but had only contempt for her mother. This was, in her childish opinion, perfectly proper, for had not her father sacrificed himself' in some unspecified way ' for his country during the Great War, and did not her mother repay him by dallying shamelessly with other men? Ellie tried her best to inform her father, whose only fault was to trust too much, but somehow there was always an innocent explanation for her mother's behaviour. For instance, when Ellie had discovered her mother in rather earnest conversation with a tram conductor, it had turned out that she was planning a shopping expedition to the city on the morrow and needed to know the times of the morning trams. And another young man towards whom she was displaying a degree of improper familiarity was, she explained, the new assistant butcher, and did not Ellie appreciate the privilege of healthy, fresh meat which so many poorer children never got the opportunity to enjoy? Perhaps, her mother suggested, Ellie had too few interests to occupy her, as her father had very thoughtfully provided the girl with a private tutor so that she was protected from the coarseness of her peers and as a result she rarely ventured out of doors.

So it was with sheer exultation that Ellie, having crept downstairs late one evening when her father was away on business, discovered her mother in the arms of a stranger. And what a stranger; a man dressed in an old-fashioned style, completely in black, including a cape and a top hat. He also sported a full and florid black moustache ' a veritable vision of Mephistopheles! To one side of the moustache sat the unmistakeable evidence of impropriety ' the impression of two red lips, whose owner appeared excessively mussed and flustered.

Ellie drew herself up triumphantly and declared:

"I shall tell Papa!

Her mother gasped, and hid her face despairingly in her hands, but her paramour was made of sterner stuff:

"Let me handle this, Marjorie, he said sternly, and approached the girl with a fierce stare and a billowing of the black cape.

When her father returned the next day, Ellie was watching for him and ran sobbing into his arms:

"Oh, Papa, I fear I have some dreadful news to convey, she cried. And he gathered his wife and child together to hear the full story and deliver his patriarchal judgement.
Ellie then recounted how she had been thirsty in the night and desired a small drink of water, only to find her mother in the kitchen embracing a sinister black-garbed scoundrel.

"Oh, Ellie, you do tell some tales, her mother rebuked in a voice conveying sorrow rather than anger, "and I'm afraid they only bring grief to your poor father. The man had merely called to obtain directions to his lodgings!

"Then why were you kissing and flirting? cried Ellie angrily, and her mother rose to box her ears, but the father motioned them to both sit still.

"And what happened next? he asked sternly.

"He came over to me, took off his big hat and ¦ stammered Ellie.

"Yes?

"He ¦ pulled out ¦ a rabbit!

"Upon my word!

"And that's not all ¦ there were white doves, bunches of paper flowers ¦ he pulled an egg from my ear and a gold sovereign from Mama's nose ¦ then he swallowed a long cavalry sword and turned a white mouse into a hedgehog and ¦

But Ellie's father had heard enough, and had reached his decision. He rose, and grabbed Ellie by the wrist.

At once Ellie's mother ran and beseeched him to show mercy to their only child, the love of her life:

"The city life, it is not good for her, and the solitude induces fantasies of the most sordid kind. But it is not her fault; she needs wholesome country air, companions and schooling in ladylike ways and truthfulness. Sometimes, dear, it seems that our love for Ellie blinds us to her best needs!

Ellie's father considered this impassioned speech for a minute, then retook his seat.

"You may be right my dear. Do you know of any such establishment? he enquired.

"Indeed I do she said, "I have heard good stories of Hardacre Hall, a respectable boarding school on the North Yorkshire Moors where, although the staff are exceedingly strict in inducing a proper christian character, the girls' welfare is deemed second to none.

And the more that Ellie wept and pleaded her case, the more her father congratulated himself on having reached the correct and just decision. A telegram to the school was returned promptly with the assurance that a place would be found for Ellie at their earliest convenience.

So the very next day Ellie and her father boarded the Great Northern express train to York, thence a local train to Pickering and a bumpy ride in a horse-drawn buggy to the isolated school; Ellie's father stayed overnight in a local hostelry. Also that same evening, in Ellie's home city, the crowds at the Pavilion Theatre were enthralled by the performance of The Great Charismo, master illusionist and magician, as indeed was Ellie's mother later that evening, in the wide expanse of her husband's empty bed.