Chapter 38: Chapter 38

On that Christmas day Gabriel had two single gents more or less under his patronage

at the boarding house. Mr. Gladman, and Henry. Henry was there first.

After some real doubts and close questioning by Mrs. Byers, he had been taken in and

lodged in the darkest and quietest of her rooms. Henry had slept twice in the

sixpenny shelter and did not want to stay there again. He could wash and get a

simple breakfast but even so, without his mother to make sure he dressed properly

and changed his linen, he was beginning to look seedy.

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Mrs. Byers made it clear that if he wished to stay he would patronise her laundress or

send his shirts home to be washed and pressed. She kept a boarding house devoted to

the reception of respectable people, generally office workers or shop assistants.

Henry's stated determination to be a builder or engineer meant that he might come

home dirty or dishevelled and this caused her some difficulty, but at last she agreed to

him being there for a trial period.

Mrs. Byers took him on Amy's recommendation, though no one else in Melbourne

would have persuaded her to do so. She liked Amy and would do nothing that might

upset her or her parents. She also said she would come to the church to see her

married and that Gabriel was barely good enough for her, though she would have said

that of any young man who courted Amy.

Then there was Harold. For the same reason Harold was allowed to stay in her house.

Any other boarder who 'drank' would have been out long since but she knew how

much Amy loved her brother, and was prepared to tolerate him for her sake, at least

for a while.

It was painful for Amy and her parents when Harold lost his employment but he

swore he would give up the drink and get another job. He did not argue but was

contrite, apologised for his conduct, and sat quietly with them for the rest of the

evening.

He even went so far as to volunteer to take a course of Dipsogone which was a

popular remedy to cure dipsomania, or persistent drunkeness, though no one had

suggested such a thing. Gabriel was uneasy about Harold. He had a limited

knowledge of drunks but suspected they were not cured of their addiction by a ten

minute lecture from a father or anyone else.

Mr Gladman was another problem. It was not clear to Mrs Byers as to what had

happened, and why he had left home on Christmas day, but Gabriel.offered to pay

three days board and lodging until Christmas was over and the banks opened so he

could make his own arrangements after that.

Amy was a bit miffed with Gabriel for having another adventure without her. She

would have been interested to see Mr Gladman ejected from his own home and the

impromptu street party afterwards and would have cheered and clapped with the

others when the exile toasted his wife with a glass of forbidden beer.

But she quickly forgave him when he pointed out that he had made a friendly visit to

the Gladmans with news of the foiled swindle and had not known he would set off a

crisis in the household.

Gabriel went with the Taylors to a Church of England service some distance from the

boarding house because their own church, St Paul's was being replaced by a cathedral

and the foundation stone would be laid early next year. They all went to the service

hoping that nothing more would happen to disturb he quiet of the day.

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But the peace was broken that afternoon when Mrs. Byers came back from the

Christmas service at the the Presbyterian church nearby, which she attended

regularly.

Gabriel had told her a little of Mr. Gladman's tumultuous departure from his home

and had asked her to send him the bill for his Christmas dinner.

The landlady had taken pity on him because he had eaten nothing , had not responded

to the conversation at the table, and had merely looked round vacantly as though

seeing nothing.

She took Mr. Gladman to the Presbyterian service because he was a churchgoer and

thought the service might cheer him up.

The Taylor family was chatting with Gabriel and Sir Thomas in the common room

when they heard steps approaching and a short, decisive tap at the door. Gabriel

opened it and there was Mrs. Byers dressed in Sunday black. from her polished,

tightly buttoned boots to a raffia hat adorned at the back by a stiffly erect fan of

funereally dyed feathers. Clasped in her gloved hands was a bead covered reticule

which she took to church every Sunday and which always contained exactly the same

amount, one and sixpence. That was a shilling for her to put in the plate and sixpence

for Josie, a maid working in her house. It was her custom to give Josie the sixpence

during the singing of the offertory hymn and watch closely out of the corner of her

eye to make sure it went into the plate.

Josie had been packed off to her room and Fox knew from Mrs. Byer's grim expression

that something had gone wrong. She refused to come in but remained erect and fierce

at the door.

"Has Mr. Gladman returned yet," she asked. "I would like to have a word with him.

No, he is not in his room; I tried there first."

They looked at her dismayed. Their landlady was the one person they did not want to

offend and the unfortunate Mr. Gladman had done something to bring her in anger to

their door.

"I thought it would be a Christian act," she said, "to take Mr. Gladman to my church.

He was troubled in spirit, I could see that and I always considered the best place to

find peace for the troubled, and rest for the weary, was in a Christian place of

worship. He found neither."

"Won't you come in and tell us about it?" asked Mr Taylor.

She shook her head. "They must be very noisy in the chapel of the Brethren. He sang

the hymns so loudly and off key that everyone in church was turning round to see

where the noise was coming from, The choir was put out because he quite spoiled the

effect of their music."

"Well, we're sorry to hear about that, Mrs. Byers, said Mr Taylor. I am sure I can speak

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to Mr Gladman about the matter. I will tell him he must sing more quietly in church."

She held up her hand. "That was not all, Mr. Taylor. Not by any manner of means."

They waited to hear the rest.

"He groaned several times loudly and in the most peculiar manner while the Minister

was talking about parish activities and when he was not groaning he kept calling out

'hallelujah'. It may be the custom among the Brethren, but I found it most mortifying. I

was never so ashamed in my life; to think that I introduced that man into our church!"

She looked at them all, willing them to be silent. "That was not all! Mr. Gladman

quietened down for a while but he started again even louder than before when the

Minister delivered his sermon. Our Minister is a very gentlemanly man and he found

it difficult to deliver his Christmas message, as we all did, particularly when Mr.

Gladman got down on his knees in the aisle and started to weep and pray, as well as

everything else."

Gabriel did not say anything in response to these revelations. He was struggling with

an unchristian desire to burst out laughing at the scene described by Mrs. Byers, and

could hear Sir Thomas making strangling noises, but he didn't dare look at him in case

they both exploded into laughter. To laugh at her story would have been the end; Mrs.

Byers would have instantly ordered the two of them to leave her house.

"Really," she said, observing them closely. "I have no quarrel with my lodgers here

present but you, Mr Fox, seem to attract some very strange persons to my house.

There was that dreadful, drunken labouring man who came up the stairs uninvited.

There is Master Henry Flanagan who has left the shelter of his parent's roof in very

doubtful circumstances, and now Mr. Gladman, who has also left his home for reasons

which are not clear to me. These are matters which will have to be explained to my

satisfaction if they are to remain in this establishment.

''This story of Mr. Gladman's behaviour will get about, you know. How will I face Mrs.

Tankard, who has a neighbouring house, or go back to my church next Sunday with a

scandal like that hanging over me?"

"It was just enthusiasm, Mrs. Byers, said the reverend gentleman If we tell him the

Presbyterians are different to the Brethren and don't shout or groan during the

services I am sure he will understand."

She said coldly, "I doubt that he will be coming back; I have not told you everything

that happened."

Fox suppressed his own desire to groan as well as laugh and kept his eyes averted

from Sir Thomas,.

"What did he do after that?"

"You may well ask, Mr Taylor.. He grew a little quieter during the sermon and then

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broke out again. He stood up in the pew and look round in the wildest manner. Some

of the ladies were quite frightened; they are not used to that sort of behaviour,

certainly not in a temple of Christian worship. Then he made a terrible noise walking

out of the church, right in the middle of the sermon; and he walked like a drunken

man and knocked over the table in the entrance with the prayer books on it and Elder

Vincent, who was on duty today, had to sit down to recover. He has a strained heart

you know, and I really feared for his life. It was the most shocking scene I have ever

witnessed in a church. How will I face the Minister or the Elders ever again after

introducing that man to the congregation?"

"And you haven't seen Mr. Gladman since?" asked Mr Taylor, shaking his head.

He looked in surprise at a tall, clean shaven stranger, about fifty, with greying hair

and a large bald patch who had appeared behind Mrs Byers, while she still stood in

the doorway. The man's face was familiar but he could not remember where they had

met before.

the newcomer approached self-consciously and Mrs. Byers turned to look, it was

puzzling to find this strange man in her house unannounced. Like Mr Taylor she felt

as though she should know who he was.

The man paused and grinned uncertainly, waiting for something to be said. They all

waited until they realized with a shock that this was George Gladman. Somehow, after

the episode in church, he had found the time and opportunity to shave off his

whiskers.

"I heard you knocking on my door," he said to Mrs. Byers. "Someone left a razor in the

cupboard in my room. I looked at it for a long time and I was thinking dreadful

thoughts but then I found myself shaving off my beard instead. I'm sorry, I was busy. I

didn't want to come to the door covered in soap and with only half a beard."

Mrs Byers came into the common room, and he followed.

They stared at him in astonishment. The dundreary whiskers that had been so

carefully cultivated over many years had gone after a hasty shave. In places a stubble

of hair had been left, in others his face had been scraped raw. It was a rough job but

an apparent ten years of age had gone with the solemn whiskers. He looked younger

and better for the exercise.

"Stay here and we'll talk it over," said Amy. She had been standing behind Gabriel's

shoulder while hearing about the troubled church service. "Don't go, Mrs. Byers. I'm

sure Mr. Gladman will be able to explain everything."

Mrs. Byers sniffed, but was determined to have an explanation. She waved away

Amy's offer to light the fire in their room and boil the kettle for tea. It was far too hot

for a fire and she would rather hear from Mr Gladman.

This done Mrs. Byers, though a woman of small stature, folded her arms and towered

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over Mr. Gladman who sat meekly in a chair under her gaze. Amy's brother Harold,

who had been sitting in the room listening to everything, sank back in his chair

hoping not to attract the lady's attention.

"You have had an eventful day, Mr. Gladman," she said. "First you left your wife of

many years and came here on the shortest possible notice under the patronage of Mr.

Fox; and I must say that if Miss Taylor had not made a plea on your behalf I would

have turned you from my door. You then disrupted a Christmas day service at my

church and held me up to ridicule before my friends and fellow parishioners. Now I

find that you have returned here and shaved off your beard. I might say that whether

or not a man wears a beard is a private matter for discussion only between himself

and his family, but your wife would know nothing of your extraordinary behaviour,

including this last episode, and I demand a satisfactory explanation. If you cannot give

a reasonable account of your actions you will have to remove yourself at the earliest

opportunity to another boarding house."

Everyone paused and waited for Mr. Gladman to respond to these remarks though at

first all he did was gasp and show signs of agitation. He attempted to clutch at his

beard in a familiar gesture but it was no longer there and he wrung his hands

together instead. "I remember going to church," he answered at last, "and I remember

coming back here. What else did I do?"

Mrs. Byers was astonished and frowned. "You must remember," she replied. "Your

behaviour was inexcusable. You sang off key in a very loud voice, you groaned and

shouted during the service so I didn't know which way to look. I have never been so

embarrassed. How can I return there next Sunday?"

"I can't remember any of that," replied Mr. Gladman glumly. "I must have thought the

preacher was denouncing Satan, and the Scarlet Woman, and the Pope. I tell you what

I do remember," he cried, and got to his feet showing an unexpected change to a

mixture of gladness and agitation. For the moment he had forgotten his

questionor. He strode up and down the room. "It knocked me all of a heap while the

preacher was talking; I said to myself, 'I'll never go to chapel again, not if I live to be a

hundred'. It suddenly came to me that I didn't have to stay another minute and listen

to him saying that the sinner. George Gladman, was not giving enough to the mission

to the Hindoos, and that money kept back from the mission and the chapel was

money stolen from The Lord, and the penalty for stealing from The Lord was

damnation and eternal hellfire."

"The Minister said no such thing!" cried Mrs. Byers. "Such a gentlemanly man and he

was delivering a nice Christmas message. There was not a word about Hindoos or

giving money to the church and I'm sure the reverend gentleman has never seen you

before, let alone know your name."

"Didn't he say anything about me?" asked Mr. Gladman, pausing in his restless

prowling up and down. "Didn't he say that the sinner George Gladman was an

abomination in the sight of the Lord for he dealt in the sinful trade of music and did

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not give all the fruits of his labours to the chapel?"

"Certainly not!" retorted Mrs. Byers. "If the Minister had anything of that nature to say

he would tell you privately, not in open church. All this is nonsense it just wasn't so."

"Then who was it sitting behind me that said, 'don't put up with this sort of rubbish,

George, walk out'?"

"Maybe it was the devil," said Harold Taylor, making his first contribution to the

discussion. He instantly regretted the interjection for Mrs. Byers turned her fierce

glance on him.

"Thank you, Mr Taylor," she said. "We can manage without remarks of that nature. If

you can do no better than make blasphemous statements I think we would prefer you

not to say anything at all." She continued to glare at him deeply offended at the

suggestion that the devil could be a member of the congregation at the Presbyterian

Christmas service.

Luckily for Harold there was an interruption. Josie tapped on the door and entered.

She was in a state of glee. "You should'a seen old Byer's face in church today. I thought

she was gunna have a fit --" She stopped awkwardly.

"That's quite enough from you Josie! You march straight downstairs to the kitchen

and see how the kettle's getting on. I put it on the grate as soon as I came in from

church and it should have boiled by now. Make tea in the big pot and bring it up on a

tray with cups and saucers and sugar and milk."

"There ain’t no milk," retorted Josie sullenly. "It's gone off."

"Yes there is! I told the milkman to call back so we would have enough for tonight; he

was to put it straight in the cool room; go and have a look and I will talk to you later

about manners and gratitude." She would have said more but Josie abruptly left the

room. She did not slam the door behind her but closed it very firmly.

Mrs. Byers shook her head at this departure and then turned her attention to Mr

Gladman.

"Very good, what happened then?"

"I came back here," continued Mr Gladman, "and locked myself in the room. Perhaps

the devil was at my elbow because I knew the razor was there and I looked at it for a

long time thinking all sorts of things. Then I took it in my hand, but the next thing I

knew I was soaping my face and shaving off the beard. I didn't know I was going to do

that!"

For the first time he looked straight at the landlady. "I'm sorry about the Christmas

service, Mrs. Byers, but I'm never going to set foot in a church again. I will apologise to

the Minister, I will stand outside the door next Sunday and apologise to the

congregation as they go in.

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''You'll do no such thing. What you are proposing will only make matters worse. I

don't want you anywhere near my church again.''

''That's good because I'll never set foot in a church again during the rest of my life

There were some biscuits on the mantelpiece in a flowered crockery container with a

lid. Amy was about to set them out on a plate when she was halted by this remarkable

statement. She turned and gazed, astonished at Mr Gladman.

"Not go back to church! cried Mrs Byers Whatever do you mean, not go back to

church? You don't have to go to mine, but there are plenty more. I am sure you will

find a nice church somewhere that will suit you."

He shook his head. "No, something happened while I was listening to the preacher. He

shouldn't have said all those thing about me; it wasn't fair. For twenty years I've put

up with being taken by my wife to hear sermons about how anything enjoyable is

damnable and for the first time in all those years someone sat in the pew behind me

and said, 'walk out George, walk out of the church and don't ever come back'."

Mrs. Byers turned her basilisk gaze on Harold Taylor to see if he had any comment to

make on this statement.

The unfortunate Harold sank further back into his chair and gazed straight ahead. He

was not about to be drawn into any theological discussions, particularly with the

landlady.

There was a short pause but no one came to Mr. Gladman's defence.

"Are you saying to us, Mr Gladman," enquired Mrs. Byers in a controlled voice, "Are

you saying to us that you have lost your faith and furthermore that you lost it in a

Presbyterian church, my church?"

Mr. Gladman was not to be stopped by danger signals. "Someone whispered to me

that if the Brethren are all going to heaven I wouldn't like it and I'd meet better

company in the other place."

He abruptly changed the subject. "Do you have any Roman Catholics lodging here."

"Certainly not!" retorted Mrs. Byers bridling at the thought. "I turn them from my

door. There is no shortage of accommodation in Melbourne for persons of that

persuasion, but not here."

"It's a pity," replied Mr. Gladman, "I've never really sat down and had a talk with a

Catholic though the preachers have told us so much about them. They can't be that

bad."

"We'll get back to the main point, Mr. Gladman; if you don't mind. I wish to

understand clearly whether your behaviour in church today has led you to give up

your Christian faith after all these years."

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A steel engraved still life picture hung on the wall it was of a number of shot birds

draped on a white tablecloth. The composition was completed by a bowl of fruit and a

glass of wine. Mr. Gladman appeared to be studying this picture intently though it is

probable he never even saw it or could have described it afterwards.

Mrs. Byers waited as judge and jury and the others deferred to her and remained

silent while Mr. Gladman studied the picture, then the embossed wallpaper and

decorated cornice. "Yes!" he answered at last. "I won't go back and no one can make

me."

Mrs. Byers picked up her reticule which she had laid on the mantelpiece for a while

and went to the door. She put her hand on the doorknob. "Any person may be an

atheist, Mr. Gladman. That is a private choice and we can only pray that they be

converted to the true faith along with the hindoos and all the other pagans. However,

while such a person is under my roof, I must take an interest in his religious beliefs.

For the credit of my house I cannot possibly have an atheist lodging here. I know you

are not able to remove yourself today, this being Christmas Day, nor tomorrow

perhaps, but I must ask you to make other arrangements as soon as possible."

"I don't want to upset you any further, Mrs. Byers," replied Mr. Gladman, "But I have

no luggage, nothing to keep me here. I will go at once. Perhaps you will be kind

enough to send the bill for Christmas dinner to my shop."

Everyone wanted to say something but they were interrupted by a noise as though of

a kick at the door. Mrs. Byers turned the knob and in marched Josie holding a heavy

tray in both hands.

"Where d'ja want it?"

Mrs. Byers nodded towards the sideboard. "Serve them please, Josie, then put the

kettle on again. I will take tea in my own room."

Josie nearly dropped the tray when Amy astonished them all by leaping from her

chair. "You can't leave now!" She cried to Mr. Gladman. "You haven't any money and

everything will be closed. Where will you go?"

"He can go to the sixpenny boarding house," said Harold. "Henry tells me they'll let

you in after four o'clock. He says it’s not bad, and you can get breakfast for another

sixpence."

Harold had said the wrong thing again and Mrs Byers froze him with a look, "If Mr.

Gladman prefers sixpenny lodgings to my establishment he is quite welcome to go,"

retorted Mrs. Byers, "But I will not order him out on Christmas Day. I am, I hope, a

Christian and though others may fall away I will not spurn them on that account. You

may stay, Mr. Gladman, until Boxing Day is over, then I will expect you to either

return to your proper home or seek another room elsewhere in the city."

"I'll go," replied the man, who was showing every sign of restlessness. He had paced

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up and down the living room ever since Mrs. Byers had reminded him of the episode

in church and the place seemed too small to contain his energy.

He turned on Gabriel What's the name of that hotel you stayed at during your first

week in Melbourne? I'll go there."

"You warned me against it! You said I had to move out as soon as possible because it

was a den of iniquity. You will be better off here instead of going to that place, and

Benno and his mates drink there, you might meet them."

"That's so, I might," said Mr. Gladman pausing in his nervous movements. It was that

drunken labourer that started all this by breaking my windows. I'd like to meet him

and say there are no hard feelings. Does the landlord live on the premises?"

"Yes, O'Hanlon, but you can't knock him up on Christmas Day. He may have gone to

the beach or down the bay."

"If he's there I will get him out and make him give me a room," retorted Mr Gladman,

The law in Victoria says that no publican may refuse to let a room no matter what day

of the year it is. Could I borrow a suitcase? An empty one will do. I will have to have

something that looks like luggage or he might be able to turn me away."

"Where's he going? What's happening, and what's he done with his beard?" enquired

Josie, staring wide eyed at the agitated Mr. Gladman. She too was excited when she

heard that he was not staying a single night in the boarding house. "That place you're

talking about only seven bob a week bed and breakfast" She said. "If I got a proper job

I could earn that much easy, then I could go where I liked without anyone to boss me

around. I could go out on Saturdee nights."

"If you think that you've got another think coming," stated Mrs. Byers ''This is a

respectable house, and I am your guardian until you turn twenty one.I'll have you

brought home by the police if you do anything so foolish as to run away. Imagine a

child of your age thinking she can go out into the world on her own, what nonsense!

Leave the tray where it is you're coming straight downstairs with me. It's about time

we had a good talk