Chapter 5. Transitions

The rest of the week became a flurry of packing and preparations, which Pip hardly noticed for Merry kept him fully occupied... or perhaps ‘twas the other way around. In any event, it did not seem to dawn upon the lad that his eldest sister was leaving until the eve of the departure. There was the added misery of saying “farewell” to Merry, with small comfort in the promise of a longer visit in the New Year.

 ‘Not Yule?’ Pippin said in outrage. ‘But we always go to Buckland for Yule!’

 ‘We’ll be at the Great Smials for Yuletide this year, love,’ Eglantine said as Paladin frowned. ‘We’ll go on to Brandy Hall after Yule this time.’

 ‘It’ll be great fun, Pip, you’ll see!’ Merry said in his most persuasive tone.

 ‘You are disrupting a fine supper, young hobbit, and if you do not take hold of yourself you will have to leave the table,’ Paladin said sternly. He was appalled at his son’s lack of manners.

With the wisdom—or lack of it—of his youth, Pip continued to argue, with the inevitable result of being sent to his room. The supper continued in his absence, though it was perhaps not quite as lively an affair as it might have been.

Pearl brought his plate to him after the children were excused from table to allow the adults more scope for conversation. Pervinca tagged along with Pearl, while Nell began the washing up in the kitchen and Merry offered to help. The boy’s room had the appearance of the aftermath of some disaster, and Pip was nowhere to be found until Vinca had the inspiration of dragging him from under the bed.

 ‘What were you doing under there?’ Pearl said, trying not to laugh.

 ‘Looking for spiders,’ Pip said defiantly, straightening his rumpled clothes.

 ‘We had better get this room put to rights before Da sees it,’ Pervinca warned. ‘You know what he’ll do.’

 ‘Water rations, ‘til it’s cleaned up, and that would spoil the Brandybucks’ departure,’ Pearl said.

 ‘Not to mention yours,’ Vinca said, her face suddenly screwing itself into a curious shape as she winked back tears.

 ‘What do you mean?’ Pip said, looking from one sister to the other.

 ‘Pip, you’re such a ninny!’ Vinca said sharply, winning the fight with sadness as annoyance took its place.

 ‘I just want to go to Brandy Hall for Yule as we always do!’ Pip shouted, to be shushed by his apprehensive sisters. They did not want their father’s temper stirred, for that would surely mar the evening.

 ‘You’d make Pearl spend Yule alone, without her family?’ Vinca added spitefully.

 ‘No, of course she’d come with us!’ Pip said.

 ‘No she couldn’t! She’ll be at the Smials,’ Vinca said, completely exasperated with this little brother who could be so thick at times.

All the fight went out of the lad as he stared from one sister to the other. ‘Why would she be at the Smials?’ he asked.

 ‘Pip, you—’

 ‘Don’t call names!’ Pearl said sharply. She put a gentle hand on her brother’s shoulder and softened her tone. ‘Pip, I’m going to the Great Smials, you know that.’

 ‘For a visit!’ the lad insisted. ‘A week, or two at most.’

 ‘A year,’ Pearl corrected. ‘Two at the most.’

Pippin stared at her in horror, then suddenly flung himself at her, throwing his arms about her and hugging her as if he’d never leave hold. ‘No,’ he choked, voice muffled by her skirts.

Pearl put her arms around him and hugged him tightly. ‘Vinca,’ she whispered. ‘Go and help Nell.’

The next morning the Tooks put on their cheeriest demeanour and sang and waved the travellers on their way, all but young Pip, that is. He stood mute, eyes enormous in his pale face, staring sorrowfully after the coach that bore away the best friend he’d ever had and the sister he loved most.

It took the lad more than a week to get back to himself. He dragged through his chores with a tragic face (dragging was nothing new, Vinca observed, it was merely that he was sorrowful rather than distracted) and hardly ate a thing until his mother, alarmed, thought he might be sickening with something. She forced down him a dose of the most objectionable tonic in the sick-box. Pippin perked up at once, causing her to congratulate herself on her healing skills, though of course, anyone, even a dying old gaffer, would have perked up after a dose of that horrid stuff. 

In any event, life went back to the way it always was at the farm, with a large hole of course, left by Pearl’s absence. Pimpernel filled it as best she could, for Pearl had solemnly charged her with the responsibility that last evening after Pip finally fell asleep. Pervinca did her part, distracting the lad with more than usual disagreeableness. October continued as it always did, in celebration of the harvest, and soon it would be November with its Remembering Day feast, and then the preparations for Yuletide would begin. Though Pip never would concede that life went on as usual, it did anyhow.

***

 ‘Mistress Lalia will undoubtedly chafe at the delay,’ Esmeralda said as the coach slowed with a subtle jerk as the ponies threw their weight against their collars for the haul up the Hill.

 ‘Then Ferumbras ought to put a road between Bywater and Tuckborough,’ Saradoc said. It was an old complaint. The Green Hills loomed ever larger as one proceeded westwards from Woody End, growing so great that it was impractical to travel from Tuckborough to Tookbank unless one went afoot or by sure-footed pony. Less than mountains, they were still large enough to preclude the building of a road. Only fields and low rolling hills stood between Bywater and Tuckborough, but no road had ever been built. Unless one rode across the fields a-pony-back, it was a long way round by coach to go from Hobbiton to the Great Smials. Bilbo had often joked that the Thain liked to keep things that way, making it inconvenient for the Sackville-Bagginses to visit the Great Smials.

 ‘It does make it inconvenient for visiting,’ Esmeralda said. ‘Either we visit Tuckborough, or we visit Whitwell, and Bilbo along the way...’ she trailed off in confusion.

 ‘Frodo,’ her husband corrected gently. ‘We’ll visit Frodo from now on, though we’ll never forget the old scalawag. Wonder where he took himself off to? More adventures, more likely than not.’

 ‘Poor Frodo, he’s only just got over the Party,’ Merry said. His parents had stopped by Bag End to fetch him on their way to Whitwell. ‘Here we are imposing on him again already.’

 ‘And we will continue to impose, as often as possible,’ his mother said archly. ‘Poor lad, he’ll be lonely, rattling about that smial all by himself. Perhaps we ought to press him to return to Brandy Hall.’

Frodo did not look at all imposed-upon as he stood up from the bench before Bag End, where he’d sat with a pipe and a book to await his visitors. The cold rain had blown over and the Sun shone as if determined to hold back the onslaught of Autumn. ‘Well come!’ he cried as the driver pulled the ponies to a stop. ‘Good to see you, Will!’

 ‘Good to see you as well, Mr Frodo!’ Will the driver called back. ‘Have you room in the stable this time around?’

 ‘I’ve ejected all the Party guests and their beasts just to make room for you, Will,’ Frodo returned. ‘Tea’s on in the parlour, Saradoc, and Will, I think you’ll find Marigold has laid a nice tea for you and Samwise in the kitchen.’

 ‘Thankee, Mr Baggins, most kind I’m sure,’ Will said, jumping down from the box to place the step and open the coach door.

 ‘Frodo lad!’ Saradoc said, descending from the coach. He hugged Frodo as Merry emerged behind him, then put Frodo back from him, gazing at him earnestly. ‘You look... older,’ he said. ‘How does it feel to be Master of Bag End?’

 ‘A heavy responsibility,’ Frodo said, allowing his shoulders to sag and a quaver to creep into his voice. ‘I’ve half a mind to chuck everything and follow Bilbo.’

 ‘Don’t you dare!’ Merry said.

 ‘Follow him only as far as Buckland,’ Saradoc suggested. ‘You’ve a home there with us, you know, as long as you care to stay.’

 ‘Did he come to Buckland?’ Frodo said, hope brightening his countenance as Saradoc turned to help out his wife and niece.

 ‘Not that we’d heard,’ Merry said quietly, ‘but then we’ve been visiting Paladin, you know.’

 ‘How’s Pip?’ Frodo said.

 ‘Full of mischief as ever,’ Merry answered.

Just then Saradoc handed out Pearl. Frodo gave a low whistle. ‘This is not the same Pearl Took who danced a farmer’s fling at the Party?’ he said. ‘Is Pip about to emerge from the coach without a smudge on his nose and no tears in the knees of his breeches?’

 ‘That’s years off yet!’ Pearl laughed at his nonsense. ‘He’s back home, likely getting up some mischief as we speak.’

 ‘Well,’ Frodo said briskly, putting his book under his arm to rub his hands together. ‘The Sun is going lower and I find the air is growing brisk. Let’s get you all inside and drink the tea whilst it’s hot!’ He ushered his guests into the smial, talking and laughing. He had much good advice for Pearl about living amongst the Tooks, his grandmother having been a daughter of the Old Took and his having spent a fair amount of time at the Great Smials since coming to live with Bilbo, for the old hobbit hauled him along whenever he had to visit that branch of the family. “I’m bringing you as a prop and a bolster my lad,” he’d been fond of saying. “Also if they show signs of devouring us with that gossip of theirs, I’ll throw you to them and make my escape whilst they’re worrying you with the Talk.”

Next morning they were off on the second stage of the journey, stopping off at Budge Hall in Bridgefields to stay the night with the Bolgers. The next day they drove southwards to Stock and then turned westwards again along the Stock road, finally travelling towards Tuckborough. They stayed that last night at the Crowing Cockerel and started off early next morning for the final leg of the journey.

Regular visits to Brandy Hall stood Pearl in good stead now; she was not overwhelmed by her first sight of the Great Smials, great as they might be, one of the wonders of the Shire as it were. Her aunt and uncle’s steadying presence helped, as did Merry’s quick wit which had her laughing even as the coach pulled up before the Great Door. Servants scurried to place the step below the coach door; others held umbrellas to shield the occupants as they emerged from the return of the rain. Saradoc jumped out first, followed by his son, and proceeded to hand out the ladies with elegant efficiency. Shielded by umbrellas held over them from both sides, Saradoc slowly ascended the stairs with Esmeralda on his arm while Merry escorted Pearl.

They were shown to the sumptuous suite reserved for the Master of Buckland and offered light refreshment to restore them and steaming baths to soak away the chill of the rainy weather. After this the heir to Buckland chose to take late supper in the suite rather than great room, and then the travellers sought their pillows early, for the morrow would be a full day. Pearl was grateful for the custom of cosseting travellers and allowing them a night’s rest to recover from the strain of journeying before an actual “visit” began.

That night as they sought their beds, Esmeralda spent a long time brushing Pearl’s curls and talking quietly. ‘If you are in the least unhappy, send word,’ she said at the last. ‘I know you have the sense and spirit to make good, but don’t let Tookish pride keep you if things do not turn out well.’ Putting the brush down, she put a gentle hand under the girl’s chin to tilt her face upwards. ‘Promise?’ she said softly.

 ‘I promise, Auntie,’ Pearl said. She’d make good; of course she would! Lalia the Great couldn’t be any more difficult than the cow with the crooked horn... she smiled at the comparison, and her aunt gave an answering smile.

 ‘As long as we’re understood,’ Esmeralda said.