Read Online School for Love by Olivia Manning - Free Book Online

want to go home again?’
    ‘My dear child, how do I know?’ Talking about something other than the Lesznos, Miss Bohun seemed always to be discouraging. ‘I can only tell you what he told me. He got himself a little job in the passport office at the British Consulate. Very pleasant, I’m told. They used to spend the summer in Alexandria and the winter in Cairo. Well, he gets a small allowance from the Consulate; a ridiculous amount, really. I can tell you, if he were in England, he’d be in the workhouse. He must have outlived his usefulness in Cairo – anyway, when they evacuated the city they took the chance to get rid of him. He came up here. A lot of very odd people came here at that time – those who had money went to hotels and
pensions
, and the rest were packed into a barracks in Bethlehem. I’d never seen anything like it. I went down to distribute some tracts. I saw the poor old soul, he seemed lost among that mob – mostly foreigners they were. Well, we got talking, I felt it was my duty to offer him a home. I’ve always said we’re put into this world to help one another. And I had to get Nikky out of the house. I felt I owed it tomyself. I said to Mr Jewel: “This is an occasion when we can do each other a good turn. I want to let my attic, but it’s not everyone who’d take it; you need a home and you won’t be too particular – so, it’s mutual aid.” He was very grateful and I must say, on the whole, he’s been no trouble – but this Frau Wagner – it’s taking advantage.’
    ‘Yes,’ agreed Felix, indignant on Miss Bohun’s behalf.
    ‘Well, I don’t know,’ Miss Bohun muttered and sighed to herself, then raised her voice to include Felix, ‘perhaps the time has come to make a change.’
    When Felix went up to his room after tea he found his oil-stove already lit. For this he had to thank the new servant Maria, the Armenian woman. He wondered if she would light the bath-boiler for him, too, and make his bed properly. He had never really complained about this work, but he had at first mentioned to Miss Bohun that Frau Leszno threw the bedclothes back on his bed so carelessly that they always fell off during the night. ‘Oh dear,’ said Miss Bohun, ‘I must speak to Frau Leszno, but you know, Felix, with the cooking and so on, there
is
a lot to be done in this house; I don’t like to overwork servants, and I’m told that in England even the
best
people have to do their own chores these days.’
    Now, if Maria were going to do all these jobs, Felix could not help feeling, in a slightly guilty way that life would be much pleasanter. He had never been able to make his bed properly himself and when he awoke in the middle of the night to find the bedclothes on the floor and Faro crouching against him for warmth, he had felt a genuine hatred of the Lesznos while his sympathy with Miss Bohun became intense.
    Although Miss Bohun had kindly said: ‘Don’t forget,Felix, the sitting-room is as much yours as mine,’ Felix usually stayed in his own room when indoors. The sitting-room had a desolate air of shabby discomfort and, with the stairs leading into it and doors leading directly to garden and courtyard, it was very draughty. The single-bar electric fire was switched on, if at all, by Miss Bohun herself just before dinner began. Felix had been worried each evening by the sight of Mr Jewel’s very cold, old hands, until at last, he had run down one evening and switched the fire on at about six o’clock. It was no good; before he got back to the top of the stairs he heard Miss Bohun’s entry, her exasperated exclamation and then the ping of the fire being switched off.
    When Felix came down to dinner that evening he found Mr Jewel and Frau Wagner already seated at the table. The fly-blown, solitary bulb in its age-yellowed shade threw down a circle of light; the rim of this cut across their faces. Their shoulders were hunched forward with cold, but they communicated to Felix less a