CHAPTER ELEVEN

Pip Goes to a Funeral

A black-edged envelope was delivered to me at Herbert's rooms one evening. It informed me that Mrs J. Gargery had died the previous Monday, and that the burial would be next Monday, at 3 p.m. I was shocked by this news. I had never had someone close to me die before, and even though I had never loved my sister, I could not imagine life without her.

It was early Monday afternoon when I arrived at the iron workshop. Joe was sitting in the front room, dressed in a black cloak.

"Dear Joe, how are you?" I asked.

"Pip, my dear boy, she was a fine woman when you knew her ... ," and he could say no more.

Biddy was dressed in a neat little black dress and was busy serving food. There were old friends from the village in the front room, talking quietly among themselves. I noticed old fool Pumblechook looking at me as he drank wine and swallowed large pieces of cake.

"May I, my dear sir? May I?" he asked with his mouth full, and shook my hand with great feeling.

They carried my sister's dead body slowly out of the house and through the village. We followed behind. Beyond the wetlands we could see the sails of ships on the river. There, in the churchyard, next to my unknown parents, my poor sister was laid to rest in the earth, while birds sang and clouds danced in the sky.

Biddy, Joe and I felt much better when all the guests had gone. We had a quiet supper together. I decided to spend the night with them at the iron workshop, and this pleased Joe very much. I was also quite pleased with myself for offering to do so.

Later I found Biddy alone and said, "I guess you won't be able to stay here now, will you, Biddy?"

"No, Mr Pip. I'll be staying in the village. I'll still look after Mr Gargery as much as I can."

"But how are you going to live, Biddy? If you need any money—"

My offer had made her cheeks turn red, "I'm going to be the village schoolteacher," she said quickly. "I can earn my own money."

"How did my sister die, Biddy?"

"She had been more ill than usual recently. One evening she said 'Joe' very clearly. I ran to the iron workshop to fetch him. She put her arms around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder, quite happy. Then she said 'Sorry', and after that 'Pip'. She didn't lift her head up again, and one hour later she died."

Biddy cried, and I cried too.

"What about Orlick, Biddy?"

"He still lives in the village, but he doesn't work for Miss Havisham any more. Sometimes, you know, he—he follows me."

"I want you to tell me if he bothers you, Biddy. I'll be coming here more often now. I don't want to leave poor Joe alone."

Biddy said nothing.

"Come, Biddy, why are you silent?"

"Are you sure you will come to see him?"

"Oh Biddy!" I said sadly. "What a bad side to your character! Don't say anything more!" All through that evening I thought how unkind and unjust Biddy was to me.

The next morning I found Joe already hard at work in the iron workshop. I said goodbye to him before leaving.

"I return to see you soon, Joe! Don't worry!"

"It'll never be too soon, sir," said Joe, "and never too often, Pip!"

As I walked away to the village, I knew that I would not go back. Biddy was right.

Back in London, I did some serious thinking about my character. I could see that it had not improved any since hearing about my expectations. I also knew I was spending far too much money. What was worse, this was a bad influence on Herbert, as he began spending too much as well. He had many bills, and I offered to pay for them, but he was too proud to accept my offer. On my twenty-first birthday I had hoped to discover more about my future, but Mr Jaggers would not give me any more information, explaining that he wasn't allowed to. He did tell me that I was now to have five hundred pounds a year to spend as I liked. Then I suddenly thought of a way to help Herbert.

I asked Wemmick to advise me on helping a friend start up in business, and his post-box mouth opened wide.

"Go to one of the six London bridges," he said, "and throw all your money over it. That's a better way than investing money in a friend. Of course, that's my professional opinion."

"But if I was a customer at Walworth, you would give me a different opinion?"

"You're most welcome there, Mr Pip, on private business."

The next Sunday I went to visit Wemmick and his aged parent at the Castle. There was a lady called Miss Skiffins this time. She was clearly a regular visitor, and she made the tea and sat next to Wemmick on the sofa. When Wemmick and I were alone, he listened carefully to my request, and after thinking hard for a while, he came up with an answer.

I arranged to invest some money with his help in a shipping company called Clarrikers. I signed an agreement with them where they promised to offer Herbert a job. Later, they would agree to make him a partner. I finally felt that my expectations had brought good to someone other than myself.

(end of section)