England Made Me by Graham Greene Page A

when I was clearing out my drawers preparatory to my latest move. It had got pushed to the back of a drawer where I keep my old sketching-blocks. The thought came to me that we are the last of the immediate Mintys. Your cousin Delia’s family, of course, still go on, and there are the Hertfordshire Mintys, but we have never had much to do with them, and there is your mother of course, but she is only a Minty by marriage. I suppose – an odd thought, isn’t it? – that we are all only Mintys by marriage. Anyway, there was your letter, and it was such a pleasure to read it over again. Characteristically it is undated, so I cannot tell how long it is since I received it. It must be some years now, I expect. I see that you say that you enjoy Stockholm and hope that is still true. I can’t quite remember now why you went to Stockholm, I must remember to ask your mother when I next see her, her memory, poor dear, is not what it was, and it would not surprise me at all to hear that she had forgotten what position it is that you occupy. It must, at any rate, be satisfactory financially or you would not have stayed away from England all these years. I notice that my brokers have just bought me some Norwegian State Bonds; rather a coincidence, isn’t it? Curious – I am reading your letter as I write – I see that you ask me for the loan of five pounds; it must indeed have been written many years ago when you were first starting whatever work it is you do. Doubtless I sent you the money, but I wonder whether you ever repaid me. However, we’ll be charitable and take it for granted that you did. It’s an old story now, anyway. You’ll be wondering what news there is of home, but you will have heard about Uncle Laurie’s death and the affair of Delia’s twins from your mother. She’ll have told you everything important. I saw a Harrow boy on Fakenhurst platform the other day; another coincidence .
    Your loving Aunt ,
    Ella .
    Well, Minty thought, this is indeed a proud day. To have heard from the family. How long this coffee takes to cool. I’ve a good mind to write to mother on the strength of it. ‘Aunt Ella when she last wrote mentioned.  . . .’ What a start it would give the dear woman to see my handwriting on an envelope. Not sweet enough. Another lump. But I don’t know her address, and if I sent it to the solicitors they would return it. Reference GL/RS. Cool enough now. I could send it under cover to Aunt Ella and ask her to stamp and forward it. My handwriting under an English stamp. What a surprise for mother, but cautious, Minty, cautious. Your imagination runs away with you, Minty. Nothing must endanger the fifteen pounds a month so regularly and gracefully paid. Reference GL/RS.
    â€˜I see you, Nils,’ Minty said, wagging his finger roguishly at the young man on the pavement, ‘you knew it was pay-day and you want a cup of coffee. And you shall have one. This is a special day. I have had a letter from the Family.’
    Nils came up the steps from the street, shy and graceful as a young fawn pressing its nose against a fence and seeing life go by behind the rails. Minty was life, Minty sipping his cold coffee, Minty yellow about the lips, ‘Have a cigarette,’ Minty munificent.
    â€˜Thank you, Mr Minty.’
    â€˜Quite a commotion at the station.’
    â€˜Yes, Mr Minty. She is a fine actress.’
    â€˜Did she pay for the bouquet?’
    â€˜No, I do not think that she did, Mr Minty. The card fell off. I have it here.’
    Minty said: ‘Give it to me.’
    â€˜I thought it might be useful to you, Mr Minty.’
    â€˜You’re a good lad, Nils,’ Minty said. ‘Take another cigarette. Put it in your pocket.’ He looked at the card. ‘Take the whole packet.’
    â€˜No, really, Mr Minty.’
    â€˜Well,’ Minty said, ‘if you won’t’; he put the cigarettes