I Become a gentleman

Chapter-5

I reached London in the afternoon. I visited Mr Jaggers’ office right away. He was busy with a client of his, so I had to wait. After finishing up with the client, he called me in. While he was having his lunch, he informed me about the arrangements he had done for my stay in London. I was to go to the rooms of Mr Herbert Pocket, Mr Matthew Pocket’s son. He would show me over London.
Mr Jaggers, then, informed me about my allowances. They were very liberal. He handed me the contacts of a few tradesmen with whom I would be dealing regarding my clothes and other things of need. Moreover, my bills would be reviewed on a continuous basis. If I was guilty, I would be pulled up by him. After the instructions, he introduced me to his clerk, Mr Wemmick, who took me to Herbert Pocket’s room. I was to stay with him over the weekend.
Mr Wemmick was a smaller thin man, with sharp eyes, who seemed to notice everything. I grew to feel safe in his company.
We reached at Herbert’s room in 30 minutes. He had his room in an old dirty building. Reaching there, he enquired about me, “Are you Mr. Pip?”
“Yes, Mr. Herbert,” I replied.
We shook hands and he welcomed me in.
“My father thought it would be good if we spent the weekend together so that I might show you London city,” said Herbert.
We went around his rooms. They were simple and unadorned.
“I am looking for work,” he told me and then continued, “This is our living room; this is the dining hall; this one is my bedroom and that’s yours. Both the bedrooms were rather bare but it was peaceful there.
“I hope you wouldn’t mind it?” he said.
“No, I wont and I like it too,” I replied.
Suddenly, he stopped, looking straight at me. For the first time, a look of astonishment came into his eyes and he exclaimed, “I know you. You are the one whom I met at Miss Havisham’s yard. We had a fight, do you remember?”
I thought for a moment. Then, the scene came to flashing back in front of me. “I remember,” I said.
I said to myself, ‘What a small world!’
Then, we laughed out a loud at each other. He seemed genuine. I liked Herbert.
“That was long ago,” he said, “Even before you had your luck, I was also there at Miss Havisham’s expecting my good luck too.”
“Are you serious?” I questioned in a surprised tone.
“Yes, I was expecting it. If Miss Havisham had liked me, I would have some hope marrying Estella. But she didn’t,” he added.
“Weren’t you disappointed?” I asked.
“No, not at all. Probably because Estella is harsh, rude and proud and if someone is to be blamed for it, it is Miss Havisham. She brought her up to be cruel to every man.
“But why?” I asked twice.
“Well, that’s a long story and I’ll tell you while having dinner,” he said.
Mr Jaggers arranged meal for us from a nearby restaurant.
“Is Estella Miss Havisham’s daughter?” I asked while waiting for the dinner to arrive at the dining table.

“No, no. She is in no relation to Miss Havisham. She was adopted by her,” he replied
“And what about Estella’s parents?”
“Nobody knows,” he answered back.
By that time, our dinner had also come. We ate it well, and it tasted delicious. We finished the food and Herbert began Miss Havisham’s story:
“Miss Havisham was a spoilt child. Her mother died when she was a child and her father denied her nothing. All her demands were fulfilled. Her father (Mr Havisham) was a country gentleman. He was a rich, famous and a proud person. So was his daughter.”
“Was she the only daughter?” I asked.
“No, she had a brother. But as he grew up, he became a barbarian. He started to behave rudely. So, his father disinherited him. As the evening of his life was approaching, he became slacker and left his son with a part of his property which, when compared to Miss Havisham’s was trifling. Miss Havisham, now became an heiress.”
“You may suppose, Pip,” he continued, “that would be a great match. Her brother was already a wild man. He lost most of his money in gambling and hated Miss Havisham, for she inherited most of her father’s property. Suddenly, there came a man from nowhere. He was devoted to Miss Havisham. He was a showy man, not the one who lived with a purpose.”
“This man wooed Miss Havisham and made her fall in love with him. There is no doubt that she, for her part, doted on him. She adored him so much that she didn’t see anything bad in him. He used to take huge sums of money from her on the grounds that he was going to be her husband and that he must manage her financial affairs.
Although he took them for genuine reasons yet never used them for such purposes.
Because she was so proud and arrogant, nobody maintained good relations with her, except my father who warned her against this man. But she didn’t listen to him. One day, she ordered my father out of her house, they never talked since then.”
With this we both drank our glasses of wine.
Then, Herbert continued, “Every arrangement was made, the wedding venue was decorated, the wedding dress was bought, the wedding cake was ready, wedding invitations were sent, all the guests arrived but someone was missing.”
“Who?” I asked impatiently.
“The bridegroom! What came was a letter,” said Herbert.
Listening to his words, the events came in front of my eyes in a series of flashbacks, the first day when I visited Miss Havisham, the dark house, the stopped clock and the sad Miss Havisham. Then, I shouted excitedly, “ She received me at twenty minutes to nine.”
“Yes, that hour and minute,” said Herbert nodding, “Afterwards Miss Havsiham stopped all the clocks of her house. She was broken pathetically. She fell ill and recovered months later. Since then she has not looked upon the light of day. You must have also noticed this thing.”
“I see,” I nodded. “Is this the whole story?” I asked.
“This is all I know, except that the man who cheated her was also involved with her brother in this conspiracy,” said Herbert.
I remained silent. Thereupon, Herbert asked, “What are you thinking?”
“I wonder if the man had married Miss Havisham, he would have anyway got the property. Then why did he ditch her,” I raised a question.
“Very true,” said Herbert, “except that he was already married.”
“And what happened to those wicked partners?” I asked.
“Their life got ruined. They were ashamed of themselves,” replied Herbert.
“Are they alive?” I asked again.
“I don’t know,” said Herbert.
“And what about Estella? You said she is in no relation to Miss Havisham. When did she adopt her?” I asked curiously.
“As far as I know, Estella has always been there. I’ve told you everything I knew,” said Herbert.
I believed in what he said. His honesty and genuineness made me respect him. We were friends, very good friends now. We began to talk casually about the life spent till now. I somehow started feeling safe with Herbert. There could be no competition between us.
We began discussing the life I would be living here in London.
I started understanding him. The more I understood him, the more I liked him. We gelled well with each other. We were happy together.
During the course of our conversation, I asked him the work he did to earn his living. He replied that he was the insurer of ships, and he worked in the city.
I had at that time great ideas of wealth for those indulged in insuring ships. So, I had respect for the work he did only. But somewhere down in my heart, a feeling came that Herbert would have a struggling life. Not only that, he won’t be successful, but he would lead a hard life. This feeling was an instinct, with no logic behind. But one thing was sure; he was ambitious. He had big plans in life. He wanted to buy shares of some life insurance and wanted to do something in the mining business. He even wanted to trade with the East Indies in silk, shawls, spices and precious stones.
“Is it profitable?” I asked him.
“Yes, there are huge profits,” he replied.
I wondered if his expectations were greater than my own.
“You will be requiring a large number of ships,” I said.
“Yes, a huge number of them,” he agreed.
“From where will you insure your ships?” I asked.
“I haven’t begun insuring as yet,” he replied.
His tone made it clear that he wasn’t earning yet and was maintaining himself as well as he could.
Irrespective of this fact, he was an optimist by nature. “Fortune favours everybody at some point in life; this is when you see a ray of hope and go out to achieve your dreams and you fulfill your needs,” I said to myself.
He had not changed much since I last saw him at Miss Havisham’s garden. He had learnt to take the ups and downs of life in his stride which was also evident by the way he had taken the blows I gave him when we had fought. He was simple and honest. We got along well and were comfortable in each others’ company. We went out for evening walks in the streets.

We went for movies together. Next day, we went to the church at Westminster Abbey.
It had been some months since I left my village, Joe and Biddy. I thought I could well have gone to see them on Saturday but it didn’t occur to me to go there.
London is such an amazing place and the life here attracts one so much that one doesn’t feel like going away and leaving this place.
Monday came and Herbert took me to his father’s house. Mr Matthew Pocket was glad to see me and hoped that I was glad too.
“I really am not an alarming person,” he said.
He looked young despite his grey hair. He had a manner that seemed to be quite natural. Mr Pocket took me to my room which was well furnished and pleasant that I could easily use to my comfort as my own private sitting room. He had other occupants living in this house to whom he introduced me. One of them was Drummel, an old looking young man and heavily built. The other one was Stantop, who was young, rather than studious and nice. I soon realized that Mr Pocket was not reasonably rich. Teaching boarding students was the only source of livelihood for him. He was proud but was different from Miss Havisham’s other relatives.
I was learning to be a gentleman under the guidance and mentorship of Mr Pocket. Wemmick helped me to know London. Although I officially lived with Mr Pocket yet I managed to keep my room at Herbert’s which ensured me that I could do anything at my comfort and will.
A few days later, I received a letter from Biddy informing me about Joe’s arrival at London next morning. He would come to Herbert’s place. I cleaned up my room thinking how changed Joe would look. And somewhere deep down my heart, I wished he would not come.
He came in the morning. I could hear the running of his thick boots that he wiped on the doormat.
“Hey! How are you?” he asked me.
“I am fine. How are you, Joe?” I raised a question back.
We hugged each other and it thus turned out to be an emotional moment.
“You have grown up, Pip,” said Joe.
“And you look amazing, Joe,” I replied.
“It is good to hear this,” said Joe, “Your sister is well and Biddy too is fine.
By that time, Herbert also came in and all three of us began talking. Herbert’s arrival made me conscious and I felt uneasy talking lest Joe should say the wrong thing seeing us comfortable. Herbert arose to leave.
“We are alone; I don’t have much time. I want to tell you something,” said Joe.
I grew impatient to hear what Joe wanted to say.
“One fine morning when I was working at the forge, Pumblechook came in and said that Miss Havisham wanted to speak to me,” Joe said.
“Does she want to speak to you, Joe?” I questioned confusingly.
“Yes. So, I went to see her and she asked whether I was in touch with you or not. I said ‘yes’ to her. So, she asked me to inform you that Estella had returned and wanted to see you,” said Joe.
I felt myself alone as Joe spoke. He must have understood why it was so. But he went on, “When I went home, I told Biddy about it and she said that you would be glad to hear this by word of mouth. So, I have come to see you and tell you about this. As I have delivered my message, I must leave,” said Joe.
“But you can’t go now,” I said in a crying voice.
“I have to,” said Joe firmly.
Joe became emotional and philosophical at the same time and said, “Dear Pip, life is made of so many paintings. There are different types of people in this world and people with the same genre should be seen together. I am a blacksmith and my clothes are the clothes of the forge. I am dull and slow but God will bless you, dear old Pip.”
I knew he was always a simple man of dignity. He touched me gently on the forehead and went out. I felt ashamed and was in tears as I looked at him out of the window.
Joe had gone.

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