When I got home, my sister was very curious about Miss Havisham. She asked me a lot of questions. Because I did not give her enough details, she got angry and pushed my face against the kitchen wall.
I knew that if I told the truth about Miss Havisham’s house, my family would not understand. The place was too strange. I also felt that it would be wrong to talk about Miss Havisham and Estella to my sister. So, I decided to say as little as possible.
The worst part was when Uncle Pumblechook arrived for tea. He really wanted to find out what I had seen. He sat in the best chair by the fire and asked, “Well, boy, how did you get on in town?”
“Pretty well, sir,” I answered.
My sister shook her fist at me. “Pretty well?” Mr. Pumblechook repeated. “Pretty well is no answer. Tell us what you mean, boy!”
I was feeling stubborn, so I did not answer immediately. Mr. Pumblechook tried to confuse me with difficult math questions. Finally, he gave up and asked, “Boy! What does Miss Havisham look like?”
“Very tall and dark,” I lied.
Mr. Pumblechook nodded as if he knew her, but I was sure he had never actually seen her.
“Now, boy! What was she doing when you went in?” he asked.
“She was sitting in a black velvet coach,” I answered.
Mr. Pumblechook and my sister stared at each other in surprise. “In a black velvet coach?” they repeated.
“Yes,” I said. I was making up the story as I went on. “And Miss Estella—her niece—brought her cake and wine on a gold plate. We all ate cake off gold plates. I stood behind the coach to eat mine.”
“Was anybody else there?” asked Mr. Pumblechook.
“Four huge dogs,” I said. “And they fought for pieces of meat from a silver basket.”
They were completely amazed. I was so stressed by their questions that I would have told them anything.
“Where was this coach?” asked my sister.
“In Miss Havisham’s room. But there were no horses.”
Then Mr. Pumblechook asked what games I played.
“We played with flags,” I said. “Estella waved a blue flag, I waved a red one, and Miss Havisham waved a flag with little gold stars out of the coach window. Then we waved swords and shouted happily.”
They believed every word. Soon after, Joe came in from his work, and my sister told him my amazing story. When I saw Joe open his blue eyes in pure surprise, I suddenly felt terrible. I felt like a monster for lying to Joe, although I did not care about lying to the other two. They started to talk about what Miss Havisham might do for my future. Joe suggested she might give me one of the fighting dogs. My sister was so angry at this silly idea that she sent him back to work.
After Mr. Pumblechook went home and my sister was washing the dishes, I went quietly into the forge to look for Joe.
“Before the fire goes out, Joe, I want to tell you something,” I said.
“What is it, Pip?” Joe asked kindly.
“Joe, you remember all those things I said about Miss Havisham’s?” I looked down. “It’s a terrible thing, Joe. It isn’t true.”
“What are you saying, Pip?” cried Joe, stepping back. “You don’t mean to say it’s—”
“Yes, I do. They were all lies, Joe.”
Joe was shocked. “But not all of it? Was there no black coach? But at least there were dogs, Pip? Maybe just a puppy?”
“No, Joe. There was nothing like that.”
Joe looked at me sadly. “Pip, old chap! This won’t do! Why did you do it?”
I sat down in the ashes at his feet and hung my head. “I don’t know, Joe. But I felt very miserable. The beautiful young lady there was very proud. She said I was common. I know I am common, and I wish I wasn’t. That’s why I lied, although I don’t really know how it happened.”
Joe thought about this for a moment. “There is one thing you must remember, Pip,” he said. “Lies are lies. You must not tell any more of them. That is not the way to stop being common, old chap. And anyway, you are not totally common. You are a very good student.”
“No, I am ignorant, Joe,” I replied.
“Well, Pip,” said Joe, “you have to be a common scholar before you can be a special one. The king himself had to learn the alphabet before he could read and write. If you want to be special, you must be honest. You will never become uncommon by doing bad things. So don’t tell any more lies, Pip. Live well and die happy.”
I asked him if he was angry with me, and he said no. But he told me to think carefully about my bad behavior before going to sleep.
When I went up to my little room, I could not stop thinking. I thought about how common Estella would find Joe, a simple blacksmith. I thought about his thick boots and his rough hands. I remembered how Miss Havisham and Estella never sat in a kitchen, and how they were far above us. I fell asleep thinking about them, as if I had known them for months instead of just a few hours.
That was a memorable day for me, because it caused great changes in me. It is the same with any life. Imagine if one important day was removed from your life, and think about how different everything would be. On that day, the first link in a long chain was formed, and it changed my life forever.