Frank's Story

Back to Emma's Office

Frank Churchill stood in the room, rubbing his hands nervously. "So you see I’ve done some research, and the idea of a Hermit at the house isn’t so far fetched. A bit anachronistic perhaps, but really quite suitable. And I think I’d like it, for a while. I think I should be away from people you see. For a while. And they don’t seem to mind at all."

"Well it’s just that I hadn’t planned on having a Hermit at the house," Montgomery Hall said gently. "I mean if I had, I’d have considered you of course, but really I hadn’t given it much thought." Monty glanced up at Shirley Johnson, his housekeeper. "Would you like some tea? I always think a nice strong cup of tea helps."

Shirley was hovering and solicitous. "Lifts you up, doesn’t it?"

"Yes please. That would be lovely. Tea, hot tea. But I need a job, you see. And I thought of you and what I could do. And it’s not much. So I thought I could be a Hermit for you. Liven up the landscape for visitors. All the best houses had one."

"Yes, perhaps they did," sighed Monty. "It’s just that we don’t have many visitors these days. I’m afraid our days of grandeur are over." Frank nodded, his eyes fixed on the floor. Monty cleared his throat. "Perhaps you should rest for a while and we can discuss it. It really is quite an unusual request. I’m not sure I should know what to do with a Hermit." He rose from his chair and guided the troubled young man to the door.

"Yes, I’m feeling rather tired all of a sudden. Lie down, that’s good. A bit of quiet. Yes, yes I know, I’ll be careful. No, I didn’t say anything. Thank you, thank you very much."

Shirley showed him to a bedroom across the hall and told him to make himself comfortable. He slumped on the bed, slowly bending to untie his shoes. She shut the door softly, retracing her steps.

"Well the dear soul is off his rocker. Shame really, he was always such a pleasant boy, wasn’t he, Monty? Do we know why he resigned from his teaching job?" Shirley settled into one of the large chairs, cup in hand, in Monty’s sitting room. Outside in the bright spring sunshine, she could see her husband weeding a flower bed in the garden, while a little boy played in the dirt beside him.

"Something about a student, I think. All a bit hush hush." Her attention returned to the room, and the quiet old man within it.

"I didn’t know he had it in him. Anything sordid?"

"Shirley, I’m sure Frank would never do anything improper. He’s always been a very nice young man, if a little earnest."

"Well, it’s university isn’t it? Strange habits they pick up there. And the girls these days and the way they dress. It’s scandalous it is. And who was he talking to as he left the room? You know he’s got very odd. Seems like he was running a fever."

"Let’s talk to him after he’s rested and find out what went on." Monty rose and walked to the window. Outside, the boy turned to him, and waved.

"Oh tea, thank you." Frank seemed more settled, but his eyes still had a feverish glow as he sat upright in the worn leather chair.

"It was quite a difficult year. There was one class in particular, you see. Every lesson was a fight." As he spoke he talked past them, fixing his eyes on a spot on the wall. "In one of the first lessons there were peals of laughter and as I went to the back of the classroom there it was, a turd. Large as life and slightly shiny. It lay there, and my teaching career with it. I just looked at it, stunned, before I realised action was needed if I wasn’t to lose the class altogether. I decided it must be a joke. My foot moved towards it. If it had squelched, I think my future as a teacher would have ended then and there. Fortunately the thing slid en masse. Very gross and very plastic. I picked it up, to much amusement, marched to the front of the class and dropped it in the bin. But that’s how it was with them, always something. There were four girls in particular; I think the collective noun for fifteen-year-old girls must be coven."

"But also in the class was Sam. I hardly noticed her the first month or so. She was very much the loner, all dark hair and black clothes and soulful eyes. But her work was outstanding. She was really very talented. I want to say now that absolutely nothing happened with her and me. I mean, it’s not right, is it? Not with a student. But we did start to talk. After the lessons, sometimes she’d stay and ask about the book we were reading. She was contributing poetry to a college journal and had a piece published. She’d ask for my opinion and help. She wanted to be a writer. I mean I should have seen the signs, but teenagers are so intense and everything is so important, and she was very good."

Frank paused and sipped his tea. Monty waited patiently for him to continue, motioning for Shirley to do the same. "It was several months later. She had asked me to go to a bar. They were having a poetry reading at a ‘Free Mike’ night. I thought it was some kind of political event for a South African leader. The place was so noisy and people were drinking, and there was Sam at the microphone. Evidently people could just get up and say what they wanted to the room. I didn’t think British people did that! Anyway, she read a poem, so very sad and melancholy. People applauded and she came to my table and we talked about it. And then I went home."

"Well, evidently the coven had been teasing her. Or teasing is not right word, some of the things they said! I couldn’t believe they even knew such words. Generally their written vocabulary was a bit limited. They said that we were ‘doing’ it, that she’d stayed at my house. They said it in class. Things got quite out of hand and another teacher had to come in. It was awful. I should have managed it better, but all the girls were suspended, including Sam. And then a week later she tried to kill herself. Girl of sixteen, whole life ahead of her slashed her wrists. Didn't succeed, thank the Lord for small mercies. But it all came out. It seems she had been writing about me in her diary. Me! Some of it was fantasy, but I was called into to the headmaster’s office and I was asked about meeting her outside of school. The mother was outraged. I was just stunned. They moved Sam to another school and I was forbidden contact. Just like that. It was just bizarre, the whole thing was some terrible nightmare, people looking at me, whispering and I had done nothing. Confused, I asked if I should resign and they accepted. They accepted! I’d done nothing. All I had ever wanted to do was teach and it now it was over, finished."

Frank looked imploringly at Monty. "So I came back here because you were always so kind since the first time I visited. I always felt at home here for reasons I never understood. And I want to rest now, to be away from people. I’ve been seeing things, hearing things. I think it’s time to rest."

Monty sat quietly for a moment, and then nodded. "Well, we can do up the cottage in the grounds. Shirley will help you with you meals, but you can have as much privacy as you want. Stay as long as you want. If it turns into a couple of months, that’s fine. Just until you get yourself together again." The blanket on Monty’s lap slid to the floor as he stood up. "I don’t think your duties will be demanding, but I’m afraid we don’t have much to pay you either. Go and talk to Martin about what needs doing to the place." He waved toward the garden, where Martin and the boy piled weeds into a wheelbarrow.

After Frank left the room, Shirley and Monty stood for a while in silence before Monty spoke. "Well Shirley, as you and I both know, Frank belongs here. It was the least we could do."