CHAPTER NINE

Joe Comes to Visit

My dear Pip,

Mr Gargery asks me to let you know that he will be in London soon. He asks to visit you at 9 o'clock on Tuesday morning at Mr Herbert Pocket's rooms, if it is all right with you. We talk about you every night, and wonder what your life is like in London.

Best wishes,

Biddy

PS Please do not refuse to see him, even though you are a gentleman now. Joe is such a good man.

Because I received this letter on Monday, I realized that Joe would arrive the next morning. I did not look forward to seeing him at all. In fact if money could have kept him away, I certainly would have paid money.

His clothes, his manners and uneducated way of speaking would make me ashamed. I knew that luckily Herbert would not laugh at him.

I heard Joe's loud boots on the stairs at nine o'clock the next morning. At last he entered Herbert's rooms.

"I'm very glad to see you, Joe. Give me your hat."

But he insisted that he hold it carefully in front of him. He was wearing his best suit, which he looked quite uncomfortable in.

"Well! You've become quite a gentleman, Pip!"

"And you are looking wonderfully well, Joe."

"Yes, thank God. Your poor sister is no worse though no better. And Biddy is still as hard working. But Wopsle has become an actor, acting in one of your London theatres, he is!" Joe's eyes looked around the room. Recently I had bought a lot of expensive furniture, and he did not miss noticing these things.

"Join us for breakfast, please, Mr Gargery," said Herbert politely. Joe looked round for a place to put his hat, and finally settled on laying it on a shelf. I did not enjoy breakfast. It was a painful experience for me. Joe would wave his fork in the air so much that he dropped more than he ate, and I was glad when Herbert left to go to work. I wasn't caring enough to realize that it was my fault that he acted this way, because I considered him common.

"As we are now alone, sir—" began Joe.

"Joe," I said angrily, "call me Pip, not sir!"

He was quiet for a moment. "I wouldn't have come, you see," he began slowly and carefully. "I wouldn't have breakfast with you gentlemen, if I didn't have to. I've a message for you, Pip. Miss Havisham asked me to come and tell you that Estella's returned home and would be glad to see you."

The blood rushed to my face as soon as I heard her name.

"Now that I've given my message to you," said Joe, "I'll leave." He stood and picked up his hat. "Pip, I wish you even more success."

"Are you leaving so soon, Joe?" I asked.

"Yes." he said firmly. Our eyes met, and all the "sirs" melted out of his honest heart as we shook hands. "Pip, my dear boy, life is full of so many good-byes. I'm an ironworker, and you're a gentleman. Apart is how we live. It's not that I'm proud, but I want to be where I feel right. You can see these clothes are all wrong for me. And I'm wrong in London. But I'm fine at the iron workshop, or in the kitchen, or on the wetlands. Joe, the ironworker, at the old iron workshop, doing the old work—there's nothing wrong in that. You'll see I'm right when you come down to see us. I know I'm slow and stupid, but I've understood this. And so God bless you, Pip, dear old boy, God bless you!"

His words were spoken simply and from the heart. They touched me deeply but by the time I was able to control my tears, he had already gone.

I decided I would visit Miss Havisham as soon as possible. When I arrived to take my seat on the coach to our town the next day, I realized I was sitting in front of two prisoners. They were being taken to the prison-ships near our village. The prisoners wore handcuffs, and iron chains on their legs. Suddenly I recognized one of them and was frozen with horror—it was the same man in our village pub who had given me the two pound notes! Strangely enough, the prisoners were talking about it during our journey.

"So Magwitch asked you to give the boy two pounds?"

"I did what he asked. You see, the boy had helped him. Gave him food and kept his secret."

"What ever happened to Magwitch?"

"He was sent to Australia for life after he tried to escape from the prison-ship."

Having grown into a young man I was not worried that the prisoner would recognize me, but I was afraid all the same. The horror of my childhood experience with the escaped prisoner quickly came back to me, as if not letting me forget it.

But as soon as we arrived and I was going to Miss Havisham's house, I thought only of my future and bright hopes. She had adopted Estella; she had also more or less adopted me. Perhaps she wanted me to live in the dark old house and marry Estella. Still, I knew I would be unhappy with Estella, even though I loved her. I loved her because I couldn't stop myself loving her.

I was both shocked and surprised to see Orlick opening the gate for me.

"You aren't working for Joe any more?" I asked.

"As you see, no, young master," he said rudely.

I decided I would tell Mr Jaggers that Orlick was not to be trusted and shouldn't work for Miss Havisham. I hoped Mr Jaggers would then send him away.

There was a well-dressed lady sitting with Miss Havisham when I entered her room. When she lifted her head and looked at me, I knew it was Estella. How beautiful she had become! But I felt very far from her. I still felt like the rough, common boy she used to laugh at.

Laughing wickedly, Miss Havisham said, "She's changed very much, hasn't she, Pip?" I didn't know how to reply. Estella was still very proud. I knew she was the reason why I felt ashamed of home, and of Joe. But I also knew that I could never stop loving her.

We walked together in the old garden and talked quietly about our childhood times. Now that we were older, it seemed easier for her to accept me as a friend. I could not have been happier. I was quite sure that Miss Havisham had planned for us to be together. What a fool I was!

She suddenly stopped and turned to me. "Miss Havisham will want us to spend more time together in the future. But I must warn you I have no heart. Don't expect me to fall in love."

"I don't think that's true," I replied. She looked straight at me and I recognized something in her face. It reminded me of an expression I had seen recently, on another woman.

When we went back inside the house, Miss Havisham asked to speak to me alone. "Do you still admire her, Pip?" she asked eagerly.

"Everybody who sees her must do so."

She pulled my head closer to hers with her bony arm and whispered in my ear, "Love her, love her, love her! If she likes you, love her! If she hurts you, love her! If she tears your heart to pieces, love her!" She seemed so angry I thought she was talking about hate, or revenge, or death, not love.

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