by Henry Green
Works manager gave up talking to foreman of iron foundry shop and said Mr Dupret must be tired of seeing iron foundry now and they must get on. 'It's all beautiful work we do Mr Dupret, beautiful work. And we turn it out' he said.
As Mr Dupret and Bridges walked through the shops Mr Tarver followed them. This man was chief designer in Birmingham factory. He was very clever man at his work.
As they went round he followed, like a poacher, for he had no business to be following them. But above all things he wanted to speak to young Mr Dupret because he was afraid he was being forgotten.
Mr Dupret and works manager came to outside assembling shop. Old man stopped them there, it was Tupe, and told Mr Bridges how he fell that morning. As they talked Mr Dupret began to notice man signalling from behind a big cylinder which had been machined. This man beckoned and waved arm at him, it was Tarver. Mr Dupret turned to works manager but Tupe had got hold of that one's coat and was passionately saying,'—and there was one there as dain't make no move to 'elp me.'
But Mr Dupret interrupted them.
'Mr Bridges I think there's someone wants to see you,' he said, 'that man behind that thing over there.'
'Where?' said Mr Bridges. Tarver had disappeared. Then he saw Mr Tarver walking off behind. 'Oh that's Tarver,' he said, ' 'e can see me any time.' But Bridges took Mr Dupret away at once, and young Mr Dupret wondered why Bridges seemed displeased.
Afterwards Mr Tarver saw his opportunity. Bridges was called away to look at something and then he came up. He brought it all out in a rush: 'Mr Dupret sir,' he said, 'could I trouble you for a few words with me sir. I figured it out in my own mind that it was my duty and I'll put it to you in this way sir – would you think it right that any works manager, I don't mean especially Mr Bridges there, but any works manager in any factory would let you see none but 'im. Look here Mr Dupret,' he said and went on about how all of them were old men in this firm except Dupret and he, was no punch in what they did, 'no shoulder behind it sir,' he said. Luckily he took strong line with Mr Dupret who at first was surprised, then was beginning to be impressed when works manager came back again.
'That's all right John' said Mr Bridges, 'you get along now. This way Mr Dupret. Don't you listen to 'im, your dad knows 'im. I keep 'em from you, those like 'im. Ah they're a worry to me. He's a good man mind you, your dad's got a great opinion of 'im and there it is. But 'e's a worry to me' said Mr Bridges and led young Mr Dupret away.
Mr Alf Smith and Mr Jones worked on bench. They were vice hands in the tool room. Both were young men.
Mr Jones said what was the time. Mr Smith went out to where by bending down he could see clock on the wall in shop next to them.
'It wants a ¼ to 4 Bert.'
'Then I'll go and have a sit down,' said Mr Jones.
He went out of their shop but at the door he knocked against Tupe who was struggling with a trolley.
'Look out' he said, 'you nearly 'ad me over then.'
'Over,' cried Tupe, 'over, ah an' I wish you was over an' all. Ah, and talkin' of that, why this morning I tripped over meself. Bang on me 'ead I went and there was Craigan's nose-wiper by me, Joe Gates, but 'e dain't stir, no, 'e watched me lie. But then he's tired, 'e is. Soon as 'e gets 'ome – on with 'is pinney an' 'e does the 'ousework for 'is daughter, her makes 'im. 'Is gaffer's slops an' 'ers. 'E don't get much rest in the night time neither as 'e's reading fairy stories for the old gaffer to get to sleep by. 'E's a wretched poor sort of a man. 'E ain't no more'n my age. Where'll I pull this 'igh speed stuff Bert?'
'You'll go hurtin' yourself one of these days, you know, falling about at your age. Blimey,' said Mr Jones, 'if we picked you up every time one of you old chaps fell down we'd be wore out, regular wore out.'
'Ssh!' said Mr Tupe, 'I ain't a young wench. In course you wouldn't pick 'er up where she'd laid 'erself down. An' that reminds me I seen you out with 'is daughter, only I was forgetting just now. But she ain't destinated your road. Craigan 'as picked 'is young mate for 'er, Jim Dale.'
'So he may pick for all I'm bothering. Come on now, put them rods in 'ere and get out of my road.'
'Where would you be off to then, hurry?' said Mr Tupe. 'Ain't any tarts in this factory, you know, the more's the pity' he said. 'But you ain't a bad young feller so you did ought to look 'igher than Lily Gates. Fly 'igh' he said, 'and you'll see the birds circling up to yer, the darling little tarts. Then you can pick the 'ighest as comes to yer fancy.'
Evening. In their house works manager sat with his wife. He said a hard day it had been, with the young fellow down. It wasn't that he did not mean well young Mr Dupret, 'but they live different to you and me' he said. 'I've worked over forty years. I 'ave been fifteen years manager for Mr Dupret. Then 'e sends his son down, presumably. I say to myself "where am I?" He's good intentioned but 'e's soft. He never took much notice of the works but then he wouldn't do, not having been through the shops. Work with the men, do what they have to do or you'll never be a salesman, I look at it that way. All he wanted was to let our men know the profits. What'd that help them but unsettle them. They wouldn't understand. They'd not draw more money but it. I've worked for 'is father fifteen years. Ten with the O.K. gas plant before. What's he send his son for throwing educated stuff at me? He didn't interfere before. And all through today them others, like crows after sheep's eyes, trying to get 'old of 'im and tell lies. I'm tired. Tired. Takes the use out of you.'
Evening. Was spring. Heavy blue clouds stayed over above. In small back garden of villa small tree was with yellow buds. On table in back room daffodils, faded, were between ferns in a vase. Later she spoke of these saying she must buy new ones and how nice were first spring flowers.
2
Mr Bert Jones with Mr Herbert Tomson, who smoked cigarette, walked along street. They did not speak. Then blowing ash from cigarette end he said:
'I'm going off.'
'Where to? Down the road?'
'I'm going off. I'm fed up. In this country it's nothin' doin' all the time. I'm going to Orstrylia.'
'What d'you want to go there for?'
'You can't get on in this country. You'll never get out of that tool room an'll be lucky if you stay there, just the same as I shan't never get off the bench in the engineers but be there all my life. I'm goin' to get off while there's nothin' keepin' me. You can get somewhere out in Orstrylia.'
'And what'll you do when you get there?'
'I got an aunt out there.'
'I got you fixed in me mind's eye tucking away lamb with mint sauce.'
'I wouldn't go ranching not me but in the shops out there where you've got a chance not like 'ere where you're lucky if you keep the job.'
'Well they say there's a lot of unemployment out there.'
'It's those that don't want a day's work I'm for getting on.'
'There won't be no job for you 'Erbert. Take my tip, don't you go, not for nothing. They'll only ship you back again and where'll you be then?'
'I'll 'ave 'ad the trip any road.'
'No but honest are you going?'
'Honest.'
Craigan sat at head of table in his house. His mate Mr Gates sat with him to supper and his mate's daughter brought over shepherd's pie from range and the young fellow also was at table who worked with him also in the foundry, Jim Dale.
She laid dish on the table. She wiped red, wet hands on dishcloth. She said:
'Mr Craigan Mrs Eames that's next door, her sister says a job's going with the packers at Waley's.'
'None o' the womenfolk go to work from the house I inhabit' he said.
'Don't get thinking crazy Lily' her father said to her and she wiped fingers white. She carried dirty plates to the sink then.
She came back to table and ate of the shepherd's pie. She took big helping. Her father swallowed mouthful and said:
'You got a appetite' he said. 'You didn't ought to eat that much. Yer mother was sparin'.'
Craigan said: 'Who'd think anybody was the worser off f
or eatin' a stomach-full at her age.'
Weather was hot. They lived back of a street and kitchen which they ate in was on to their garden. Range made kitchen hotter. A man next door to them kept racing pigeon and these were in slow air. They ate in shirt sleeves. Plump she was. They did not say much.
Baby howled till mother there lifted him from bed to breast and sighed most parts asleep in darkness. Gluttonously baby sucked. Then he choked for a moment. Then he slept. Mrs Eames held baby and slept again.
Later woke Mr Eames. Sun shone in room and Mrs woke.
'Oh dear' he cried. He sneezed.
'What makes you always sneeze at the sun I don't know' she said most parts asleep and he said 'another day.' She now was not quite woke up and said you wouldn't believe, she was so happy now.
'Dear me' he murmured sliding back into sleep.
They slept.
Later alarm clock sounded next door. They woke. She began to get out of bed and he put on his spectacles. 'Another day' he said after he sneezed. She said was one thing to these houses with narrow walls it saved buying alarm clocks; 'they're ten and six now if they're a tanner and it's wonderful to me old Craigan let his folk buy one.' Rod of iron he ruled with in that house she said, pulling on stockings, 'or more likely a huge great poker. That poor girl' she said, 'and not even his daughter but 'e won't let 'er go out to work, nor out of the House Hardly'; and he said, quite awake, 'Oho, listen to your haitches.'
Lily Gates and Jim Dale, who was Mr Craigan's young mate in iron foundry, stood in queue outside cinema on Friday night. They said nothing to each other. Later they got in and found seats. Light rain had been falling, so when these two acting on screen walked by summer night down leafy lane, hair over her ears left wet on his cheek as she leant head, when they on screen stopped and looked at each other. Boys at school had been singing outside schoolroom on screen, had been singing at stars, and these two heard them and kissed in boskage deep low in this lane and band played softly, women in audience crooning. Lily Gates sank lower over arm of her seat. Mr Dale did not move.
Play on screen went on and this girl who was acting had married another man now. She had children now. But her husband thought she still loved other man because when they had first started on the honeymoon this other man had taken his new wife away in the motor car. They had spent night together leaving husband alone in America. But she had gone back to him. They had children now. Still he wasn't sure.
Lily Gates was sitting up now and she told Jim Dale to take arm off arm of her chair; 'you might give me room to move myself in' she said, and he said 'sorry.'
Then this play ended and Lily Gates thought this girl on screen still loved both men though it was meant she should love only her husband. 'She loves the first one still in her heart and then she loves the father of 'er children' she said to herself. Mr Dale spoke and mumbling said band had not played so well tonight and she said he mumbled so you could not tell what he said. Before he could speak again she said he was kill-joy taking the pleasant out of the evening, not that it was not a bad film she said, by saying he thought band had played badly when they had played better than she had known for three months. Then she said she could not understand what he came to cinemas for, to listen to the band and not watch the picture, she liked the stories.
Later her head was leaning on his shoulder again, like hanging clouds against hills every head in this theatre tumbled without hats against another, leaning everywhere.
Eight o'clock of morning. Thousands came up the road to work and few turned in to Mr Dupret's factory. Sirens were sounded, very sad.
Then road was empty, only one or two were running and bicyclist, bent over handle bars, drove his legs fast as he could.
Later office people began to come up road. And man, Mr Tarver, who had spoken to Mr Dupret's son outside brass foundry came along with a man in drawing office, Mr Bumpus, and talked to him. 'Tis 'im, he said, could be decent at times almost or it wasn't decent rather but the pretence and that did not take him in. He and the wife had gone with 'Tis 'im and the wife 'Tis 'er out on motor ride to a ruined abbey 'and you know the style 'e throws himself about in a tea-room well 'e put the napkin under 'is chin which is what the wife won't stand for and while I was talking to his wife there was the wife snatching 'is napkin down each time 'e put it up. It wasn't fair on 'er to behave that way before everyone. You know what womenfolk are. I 'ad a time with 'er that night for taking her but as I put it to 'er I said: "How could I tell 'e was going to indulge himself in what 'e learned in Wales."' They stood now by works office doors and Mr Bridges came in and said:
'How are you, John?'
And he said, speaking refinedly, 'Top hole. What about you Colonel?'
'I'm fine. Come in John. Take a cigar.'
'I'm sure I don't mind, sir.'
'Eh it's a fine leaf, a great smoke. John, I don't know what's the matter with me but I feel like someone had given me a cut over the brow with a five-eighth spanner. Worry, I've 'ad enough of that washing about in my head to drown a dolphin. If another bit comes along it'll displace the brains. Yes there won't be room, something'll have to go. Anyone else'd be dead now in my place. Ah, so it goes on, every day, and then one day it breaks, the blood comes running out of your nose as you might be a fish has got a knock on the snout. Till you drop dead. I'll have to get right away, go right away for a bit.'
They talked. John and Mr Bridges' faces grew red with companionship and Bridges waved cigar and John got smoke once in lungs and coughed; – they shouted together and held each other by the arm.
This girl Lily Gates went shopping with basket and by fruiterer's she met Mrs Eames who stood to watch potatoes on trestle table there. Mrs Eames carried her baby. Lily Gates said why Mrs Eames and oh the lovely baby the little lump. She said she saw prices was going up again. She put finger into baby's hand and sang goo-goo. Then she said to Mrs Eames who had not said much up till then how the old man would not let her try for job at Waley's though she knew her father would not think twice about that if it was for him to decide, who thought only of money. Mrs Eames said to listen at her, talking like that of her own dad. But Lily Gates said it was so lonely doing house all day with the food and everything that it put her all wrong, and Mrs Eames said she would be in rooms of her own not so very long now. Most likely with a husband.
'Well I don't know much about that.'
'That's what you all say. And when you 'ave children's when you'll find your hands full my girl.'
Baby in her arms lay mass of flesh, no bones, eyes open to the sky. Lily Gates sang goo-goo at baby.
Craigan household was at supper. Mr Craigan, Dale his young mate, Joe Gates and his daughter Lily, sat eating rhubarb tart there. Mr Gates asked Mr Craigan if he had ever taken rhubarb wine and that it was very strong, he had had it once. Mr Craigan did not speak. Mr Gates said but after all was nothing to touch good old beer and they could say who liked that water was what lions drank. His daughter Lily broke in saying would he get the beer tonight for she was going to the movies, and he said didn't he fetch it every night and work to buy food for her stomach all day and every. She answered him that she could just change and only be in time for second performance now. He said he'd never go. This time was once too many he said. But Craigan told him to go and fetching down the jug from dresser he stood by mantelpiece. Then why didn't they both go off now both of them he said if they were in so much hurry; but Dale said he was not going. Lily Gates opened door and went out quickly then. Mr Craigan asked slowly who was she going to pictures with; Dale said she had told him it was Bert Jones, who would be the one working with Alf Smith on the bench in tool room. Mr Craigan said nothing and Joe Gates thought Mr Craigan did not mind Lily going out with Bert Jones so he said how when he was young chap his dad would never have let his girls go, but that now things were different. Mr Craigan said nothing so he went out with the jug.
Soon after Lily Gates came quickly out of house and went quickly up the street.
&n
bsp; Then when Joe Gates came back with the beer and he and Mr Craigan sat on kitchen chairs and Dale on a box, at back of house before garden, he said he met a man in the public who had told him one or two good tales. Then for some time then Joe Gates told dirty stories. He spoke of tarts and birds. 'An' speakin' of birds' he said, 'look there's a bird caught in the window.' (Window was open and a sparrow was caught between upper and lower window frames.) He went over and began to push up upper frame to free this bird. But it fluttered and seemed as though it would be crushed. Mr Dale said, 'don't push 'er up so Joe, you'll crush it,' and he went over to the window. Mr Dale said he would put his hand in between the two frames, which he did, but bird fluttered more and pecked at his finger. 'Don't go 'urting it Jim don't be so rough with the little bleeder' Joe Gates said and Dale answered him 'ain't they got sharp beaks to 'em.' Joe Gates now took over and raised upper frame again, and gently. This bird only fluttered the more. At this time Mr Craigan came over and took fork and said to leave it to him. Very gently he pushed up upper frame and put fork under the bird and very gently tried to force the bird up but the bird got away from this fork and fluttered. Then all three together moithered round the window and then they all drew back and watched and the bird was still. Then Craigan said to fetch Mrs Eames and Dale went. Mr Craigan and Joe Gates stood and said nothing, watching, and now still the bird was quiet.
Mrs Eames came and she lowered upper frame and put hand in and gathered this bird up and gently carefully lifted it out and opened hand and it flew away and was gone. Mr Gates asked to strike him dead. Mr Dale said it looked easy the way she done it, and Mr Craigan, dignified and courtly, said they had to thank Mrs Eames for what three men could not do. She said, 'Where's Lily then?' and Mr Dale said she had gone out. Mrs Eames said what a fine evening it was to be sure but Craigan was saying no more though Mr Gates began talking at once to Mrs Eames; this happening of the bird put him in mind of some stories, he said, and not long after Mrs Eames had gone, offended. Dale said she did not like Joe's stories and Joe Gates answered that anyone could see it and he knew it before but he wanted to wake her up he said. Mr Craigan did not speak and looked to be troubled in his mind. He sat outside in the last light of sun which had shone all day.
