Chapter 107:
Without Him
Robert strode casually into the nursery, expecting to see Mr. Punch with the baby. At first glance, however, the room appeared empty. Had it not been for Dog Toby’s tail, Robert might have left the room in search of his companion and their son.
The doctor had spied the terrier’s tail poking out from behind the screen at the farthest end of the nursery. Wagging slightly, the tail beckoned Robert toward the screen like a crooked finger.
“Punch?” Robert said softly as he approached the screen.
“Here, Chum!” Mr. Punch chirped. “We’re back here, we are.”
Robert peered around the screen to see Mr. Punch seated on the floor with Colin in his lap. Dog Toby sat nearby as did Mr. Punch’s two puppets (the one of himself and the one of Dog Toby). Well, technically, the puppets lie lifeless and slumped on the floor—their wooden faces angled toward the vaulted ceiling.
“Am I interrupting?” Robert smiled.
“No.” Punch shook his head. “We’re just havin’ a chat, we are.”
“You and Colin?”
“And Dog Toby and the puppets.” Mr. Punch nodded.
“What are you discussing?” Robert asked as he sat down on the floor next to them. He sat cross-legged with his back against the screen.
“What just happened with Gamilla.” Punch sighed.
“Ah.” Robert nodded.
“Did ya get her settled in?”
“Yes, we did.” Robert replied. “I think, actually, she’s already feeling better.”
“That were strange, Chum.” Mr. Punch continued. “Weren’t it?”
“Yes, I would concur.” Robert nodded. “However, it’s quite clear what happened.”
Mr. Punch squinted. “I s’pose. Only why did Gamilla say that Gerard gave her the whiskey?”
“I asked her about that when we carried her to her room. She said that she was confused and that, as she put it, ‘I ain’t confused no more, Dr. Halifax.’” Robert answered thoughtfully. “I imagine in her intoxicated state she was trying to tell us that she’s taken the drink from Gerard’s beaker.”
Mr. Punch sniffed. “I guess.” He studied Robert’s face. “Chum?”
“Yes, dear.”
“You drink whiskey and spirits and such.”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t they make you go all to sleep like it done Gamilla?”
“Well, dear Punch, I’m older than Gamilla and I’m a man. I’m used to spirits whereas Gamilla isn’t. By the time I was Gamilla’s age, I’d already been drinking spirits for almost ten years. Where Cecil and I come from, if a young man can’t hold his whiskey, he’s considered weak. So, I built up a tolerance.”
“Oh. Them mean streets of Wimbledon.” Punch nodded slowly.
“Not Wimbledon per se.” Robert laughed. “But, when my father was taken to prison and my mother…went away…you know, Cecil and I had to make so with no money. For a time, we relied on other families and…for a time we had no real home. We were forced to try to act ‘manly.’ Otherwise, people would take advantage of us—on our own as we were. One of the ways we had to do that was by drinking. We had to show we were men.”
Mr. Punch frowned. “I hate that you had to live that way. Ain’t right for a boy to have to fight like that.”
“Julian—and you—you had your own fights and struggles which were equally serious, if not more so.” Robert sighed. “We both had to be scrappy, didn’t we? Just in different surroundings. While your battles took place on marble floors between gilded walls, mine took place on cobblestones. But, they were battles none the less. I had Cecil and Julian had you, at least.”
“I s’pose.” Punch nodded. “Never thought of me-self like Julian’s brother, but in a way, I am. Like a brother in his mind, I ‘magine. But, you’re right. We all did have to fight. Least I could help Julian. Ain’t it funny? Julian never did drink spirits. You’d think he would have—just to escape a bit.”
“Julian’s upbringing was considerably different than mine.”
“Wealthy folk drink—quite a lot.” Punch chuckled. “The duchess alone could put away a bottle a day.”
“That was just out of pure meanness.”
“I reckon.” Punch sighed. “How much did you drink when you was a boy?”
“Not a bottle a day, certainly. But, from time to time, I did certainly swallow more than was good for me.”
“Did you ever get sick like Gamilla done?”
“Oh, yes. When I was about fourteen years of age, Cecil gave me far too much and…well, let’s just say that it wasn’t pretty.”
“So, it ain’t gonna make Gamilla sick for a long time?”
“No.” Robert shook her head. “In a couple of hours, she’ll be quite well. She’s resting now. Mrs. North is with her. Poor Gamilla, she’s so apologetic. Her main concern was that no one would be able to look after Colin.”
“We got ‘im.” Mr. Punch grinned. “It’s a treat, it is. He can spend the whole day with us and, then, later, we’ll go to the ball.” Punch squinted. “Gamilla will be able to go to the ball, yes?”
“Certainly,” Robert smiled. “She’ll be quite well by then. I assure you.”
“Good!” Punch cooed. “I’d hate for her to miss it. She does so much for us. Dunno what we’d do without her.”
“I trust we’ll never have to know. I think it’s rather sweet that you worry about her as you do.” Robert smiled. He looked affectionately at Mr. Punch. “I see you’ve already gotten dressed. You look quite handsome.”
“Thank you!” Mr. Punch nodded. “When I come up here to get Colin, Charles dressed me.”
“I suppose I should do the same.”
“Dunno.” Mr. Punch shrugged. “I rather like your dressin’ gown, I do.”
“Well, I think maybe I should change since the house is full of strangers today.” Robert winked.
“Maybe so.” Mr. Punch sighed. “Still, we oughta have one day where we just stay in our nightshirts all day. That’d be a lark, it would.”
Robert chuckled as he stood up. “We’ll have to plan for it.” He tousled Mr. Punch’s hair. “Now, I trust you’ll still be here by the time I’ve finished.”
“Sure,” Punch nodded. “When you’re ready, we can take Colin to go look at all the decorations and such and see how everyone’s doin’ to get ready for tonight.”
“Of course.” Robert nodded. “I’d like that.”
“After breakfast!” Punch added quickly. “Don’t forget, Mrs. Pepper’s makin’ up breakfast trays for us to take in here.”
“I’ve not forgotten.”
“I almost did. Coo!” Punch giggled. “I must be excited today.”
“You must be if you’ve forgotten a meal.” Robert winked. “I say, I do like that cravat.”
“You should. It’s yours.” Punch smiled.
“Ah…” Robert laughed.
“I’m bored with my own. I left a bunch in London and I’m tired of the ones I brought here.”
“I’ll have to charge you for the use of mine.” Robert joked.
“How much?” Mr. Punch’s eyes brightened.
“We can work something out.” Robert nodded.
Punch sighed. “Do you gotta get dressed? Maybe—maybe, you stay here, Chum. We can play with the puppets…”
“Tempting,” Robert smiled, petting Punch’s head again. “But, I’d best get dressed. I’ll be quick.”
“Fine.” Punch shrugged. “But, if breakfast comes before you get back, I’m eatin’ your beans.”
“You’re welcome to them.” Robert chuckled.
“And your eggs!” Punch joked as Robert walked out. “So, you best be quick.”
“I promise.” Robert said as he exited the nursery.
“Your Papa Robert,” Mr. Punch whispered to Colin. “I dunno…he’s a silly bloke, ain’t he? He loves us, he does. It’s a terrible shame his boyhood were so sad. Ours was, too, mine and…well, Julian’s. You don’t know Julian, I know. He looks like me. Or, I look like him. He knows you! I don’t think you’ll ever meet him though.”
Punch took a deep breath. “But, least we had wealth. Our Robert didn’t have nothin’. Yet, I don’t think he’s as worried ‘bout gettin’ ‘is meals as we are. Still,” Punch smiled at the baby. “We’re awful lucky to have ‘im.”
The baby looked up at Punch with loving eyes.
“Papa Robert an’ me—we’re gonna make sure your life ain’t sad like ours was. First off, you got two people what love ya. Me and Robert—we love ya a lot, an awful lot! And, we love each other, too. See…I understand now when folk say that another person is somehow part of ‘em. Robert’s part of me, he is. And, part of you. Were I not to have ‘im, well…it’s be like losin’ me arm.” Punch’s eyes widened. “That’s it. Our Robert is like me arm. Better still…he’s my heart. Without him, I’d die. You see?”
“Punch!” Colin muttered happily.
“Sure, that’s me. That’s the puppet, too. “Oh! I almost forgot ‘bout the puppets. We gotta tell ‘em all ‘bout the ball…”
Meanwhile, in his room, Robert had rung for Gerard. He set about washing his face while he waited for his valet. Having removed his dressing gown, Robert stood in his nightshirt—his bare feet on the cold stone floor. He bent over the washstand, splashing cold water on his face.
When the door to Robert’s room scraped open, Robert’s eyes were burning from the strong soap which Mrs. North had installed with each basin.
“I think I’ll wear my dove gray today.” Robert said, rubbing his eyes with a towel. “His Grace has borrowed my azure cravat so, let’s use the burgundy today.”
Removing the towel from his face, Robert looked up and smiled, expecting to see Gerard. Instead, however, he was greeted by the grinning visage of Finlay.
Robert’s smile faded. “Where’s Gerard?”
“He’s occupied, Sir.” Finlay responded. “I think he’s still with Gamilla.”
“No, he’s not.” Robert shook his head. “Gerard left Gamilla’s room when I did—just when Mrs. North arrived.”
“Well, Sir, all I know is that the bell rang for your room and Gerard wasn’t around. We didn’t think it would be right for you to have to wait.”
Robert frowned.
“Your gray, then, Sir?” Finlay smiled, going to the wardrobe.
“Finlay?” Robert said abruptly. “I…I think I can dress myself this morning.”
“Sir?”
“You may leave.”
“I don’t want to leave, Sir.” Finlay stepped forward. “And, I don’t think you really want me to leave either.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-106 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 108.
The doctor had spied the terrier’s tail poking out from behind the screen at the farthest end of the nursery. Wagging slightly, the tail beckoned Robert toward the screen like a crooked finger.
“Punch?” Robert said softly as he approached the screen.
“Here, Chum!” Mr. Punch chirped. “We’re back here, we are.”
Robert peered around the screen to see Mr. Punch seated on the floor with Colin in his lap. Dog Toby sat nearby as did Mr. Punch’s two puppets (the one of himself and the one of Dog Toby). Well, technically, the puppets lie lifeless and slumped on the floor—their wooden faces angled toward the vaulted ceiling.
“Am I interrupting?” Robert smiled.
“No.” Punch shook his head. “We’re just havin’ a chat, we are.”
“You and Colin?”
“And Dog Toby and the puppets.” Mr. Punch nodded.
“What are you discussing?” Robert asked as he sat down on the floor next to them. He sat cross-legged with his back against the screen.
“What just happened with Gamilla.” Punch sighed.
“Ah.” Robert nodded.
“Did ya get her settled in?”
“Yes, we did.” Robert replied. “I think, actually, she’s already feeling better.”
“That were strange, Chum.” Mr. Punch continued. “Weren’t it?”
“Yes, I would concur.” Robert nodded. “However, it’s quite clear what happened.”
Mr. Punch squinted. “I s’pose. Only why did Gamilla say that Gerard gave her the whiskey?”
“I asked her about that when we carried her to her room. She said that she was confused and that, as she put it, ‘I ain’t confused no more, Dr. Halifax.’” Robert answered thoughtfully. “I imagine in her intoxicated state she was trying to tell us that she’s taken the drink from Gerard’s beaker.”
Mr. Punch sniffed. “I guess.” He studied Robert’s face. “Chum?”
“Yes, dear.”
“You drink whiskey and spirits and such.”
“Yes.”
“Why don’t they make you go all to sleep like it done Gamilla?”
“Well, dear Punch, I’m older than Gamilla and I’m a man. I’m used to spirits whereas Gamilla isn’t. By the time I was Gamilla’s age, I’d already been drinking spirits for almost ten years. Where Cecil and I come from, if a young man can’t hold his whiskey, he’s considered weak. So, I built up a tolerance.”
“Oh. Them mean streets of Wimbledon.” Punch nodded slowly.
“Not Wimbledon per se.” Robert laughed. “But, when my father was taken to prison and my mother…went away…you know, Cecil and I had to make so with no money. For a time, we relied on other families and…for a time we had no real home. We were forced to try to act ‘manly.’ Otherwise, people would take advantage of us—on our own as we were. One of the ways we had to do that was by drinking. We had to show we were men.”
Mr. Punch frowned. “I hate that you had to live that way. Ain’t right for a boy to have to fight like that.”
“Julian—and you—you had your own fights and struggles which were equally serious, if not more so.” Robert sighed. “We both had to be scrappy, didn’t we? Just in different surroundings. While your battles took place on marble floors between gilded walls, mine took place on cobblestones. But, they were battles none the less. I had Cecil and Julian had you, at least.”
“I s’pose.” Punch nodded. “Never thought of me-self like Julian’s brother, but in a way, I am. Like a brother in his mind, I ‘magine. But, you’re right. We all did have to fight. Least I could help Julian. Ain’t it funny? Julian never did drink spirits. You’d think he would have—just to escape a bit.”
“Julian’s upbringing was considerably different than mine.”
“Wealthy folk drink—quite a lot.” Punch chuckled. “The duchess alone could put away a bottle a day.”
“That was just out of pure meanness.”
“I reckon.” Punch sighed. “How much did you drink when you was a boy?”
“Not a bottle a day, certainly. But, from time to time, I did certainly swallow more than was good for me.”
“Did you ever get sick like Gamilla done?”
“Oh, yes. When I was about fourteen years of age, Cecil gave me far too much and…well, let’s just say that it wasn’t pretty.”
“So, it ain’t gonna make Gamilla sick for a long time?”
“No.” Robert shook her head. “In a couple of hours, she’ll be quite well. She’s resting now. Mrs. North is with her. Poor Gamilla, she’s so apologetic. Her main concern was that no one would be able to look after Colin.”
“We got ‘im.” Mr. Punch grinned. “It’s a treat, it is. He can spend the whole day with us and, then, later, we’ll go to the ball.” Punch squinted. “Gamilla will be able to go to the ball, yes?”
“Certainly,” Robert smiled. “She’ll be quite well by then. I assure you.”
“Good!” Punch cooed. “I’d hate for her to miss it. She does so much for us. Dunno what we’d do without her.”
“I trust we’ll never have to know. I think it’s rather sweet that you worry about her as you do.” Robert smiled. He looked affectionately at Mr. Punch. “I see you’ve already gotten dressed. You look quite handsome.”
“Thank you!” Mr. Punch nodded. “When I come up here to get Colin, Charles dressed me.”
“I suppose I should do the same.”
“Dunno.” Mr. Punch shrugged. “I rather like your dressin’ gown, I do.”
“Well, I think maybe I should change since the house is full of strangers today.” Robert winked.
“Maybe so.” Mr. Punch sighed. “Still, we oughta have one day where we just stay in our nightshirts all day. That’d be a lark, it would.”
Robert chuckled as he stood up. “We’ll have to plan for it.” He tousled Mr. Punch’s hair. “Now, I trust you’ll still be here by the time I’ve finished.”
“Sure,” Punch nodded. “When you’re ready, we can take Colin to go look at all the decorations and such and see how everyone’s doin’ to get ready for tonight.”
“Of course.” Robert nodded. “I’d like that.”
“After breakfast!” Punch added quickly. “Don’t forget, Mrs. Pepper’s makin’ up breakfast trays for us to take in here.”
“I’ve not forgotten.”
“I almost did. Coo!” Punch giggled. “I must be excited today.”
“You must be if you’ve forgotten a meal.” Robert winked. “I say, I do like that cravat.”
“You should. It’s yours.” Punch smiled.
“Ah…” Robert laughed.
“I’m bored with my own. I left a bunch in London and I’m tired of the ones I brought here.”
“I’ll have to charge you for the use of mine.” Robert joked.
“How much?” Mr. Punch’s eyes brightened.
“We can work something out.” Robert nodded.
Punch sighed. “Do you gotta get dressed? Maybe—maybe, you stay here, Chum. We can play with the puppets…”
“Tempting,” Robert smiled, petting Punch’s head again. “But, I’d best get dressed. I’ll be quick.”
“Fine.” Punch shrugged. “But, if breakfast comes before you get back, I’m eatin’ your beans.”
“You’re welcome to them.” Robert chuckled.
“And your eggs!” Punch joked as Robert walked out. “So, you best be quick.”
“I promise.” Robert said as he exited the nursery.
“Your Papa Robert,” Mr. Punch whispered to Colin. “I dunno…he’s a silly bloke, ain’t he? He loves us, he does. It’s a terrible shame his boyhood were so sad. Ours was, too, mine and…well, Julian’s. You don’t know Julian, I know. He looks like me. Or, I look like him. He knows you! I don’t think you’ll ever meet him though.”
Punch took a deep breath. “But, least we had wealth. Our Robert didn’t have nothin’. Yet, I don’t think he’s as worried ‘bout gettin’ ‘is meals as we are. Still,” Punch smiled at the baby. “We’re awful lucky to have ‘im.”
The baby looked up at Punch with loving eyes.
“Papa Robert an’ me—we’re gonna make sure your life ain’t sad like ours was. First off, you got two people what love ya. Me and Robert—we love ya a lot, an awful lot! And, we love each other, too. See…I understand now when folk say that another person is somehow part of ‘em. Robert’s part of me, he is. And, part of you. Were I not to have ‘im, well…it’s be like losin’ me arm.” Punch’s eyes widened. “That’s it. Our Robert is like me arm. Better still…he’s my heart. Without him, I’d die. You see?”
“Punch!” Colin muttered happily.
“Sure, that’s me. That’s the puppet, too. “Oh! I almost forgot ‘bout the puppets. We gotta tell ‘em all ‘bout the ball…”
Meanwhile, in his room, Robert had rung for Gerard. He set about washing his face while he waited for his valet. Having removed his dressing gown, Robert stood in his nightshirt—his bare feet on the cold stone floor. He bent over the washstand, splashing cold water on his face.
When the door to Robert’s room scraped open, Robert’s eyes were burning from the strong soap which Mrs. North had installed with each basin.
“I think I’ll wear my dove gray today.” Robert said, rubbing his eyes with a towel. “His Grace has borrowed my azure cravat so, let’s use the burgundy today.”
Removing the towel from his face, Robert looked up and smiled, expecting to see Gerard. Instead, however, he was greeted by the grinning visage of Finlay.
Robert’s smile faded. “Where’s Gerard?”
“He’s occupied, Sir.” Finlay responded. “I think he’s still with Gamilla.”
“No, he’s not.” Robert shook his head. “Gerard left Gamilla’s room when I did—just when Mrs. North arrived.”
“Well, Sir, all I know is that the bell rang for your room and Gerard wasn’t around. We didn’t think it would be right for you to have to wait.”
Robert frowned.
“Your gray, then, Sir?” Finlay smiled, going to the wardrobe.
“Finlay?” Robert said abruptly. “I…I think I can dress myself this morning.”
“Sir?”
“You may leave.”
“I don’t want to leave, Sir.” Finlay stepped forward. “And, I don’t think you really want me to leave either.”
Did you miss Chapters 1-106 of Mr. Punch of Belgrave Square? If so, you can read them here. Come back tomorrow for Chapter 108.
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