by Henry Green
'More sand' Dale said.
They worked fast for another hour.
'Hold on' said Mr Craigan and then straightened backs. His eyes were like black stones with anger.
Later that evening, when they were home he said again he was getting to be old man. Lily and Jim Dale separately worried about his saying this, Joe Gates was too tired. He had never said that before, either said in his own mind.
7
They had taken bus. They had gone Saturday afternoon to Mr Jones' uncle and aunt that were lodge-keepers at gate of big house one mile out from bus terminus.
They had taken bus and had walked out They had come in time for tea. They had stayed for supper. Lily Gates took pleasure in feeding chickens, it was infinitely amusing for her, and she had on new dress.
After supper they had started back for bus terminus towards ten o'clock. They had talked. Lily thought Bert Jones was great on talking. She had said what kind of a life did they live up in the big house which his uncle was gatekeeper of and he said there was three young ladies, daughters of the house, but were no sons, father employed a lot of men in Birmingham he said. She said when they married, those three, would the eldest come with her 'usband to live in the house so it would stay in the family, and he said he couldn't tell and she said she wondered what kind of lives they did live there.
She said it seemed a pity there wasn't a man the house wouldn't come to though girls were as good as, men but still. She said they'd go out to dances every night probably and have a high old time. He said perhaps he kept his daughters in and didn't let them out much but she said that class never did that, the girls were free as the fishes in the sea and as slippery, using words her father would have used. And more than that she said, she had asked his aunt and she'd seen them come out of an evening scores of times, so she said.
From joking with him and from the long day talking with him her laughing went out all at once into confidences. Coming closer to him she began to tell what she had not meant to tell anyone, as if he had taken her will from her. She said how low Mr Craigan was often now in his self, and that once when he came back from work some time since she had thought he was finished.
' 'E's the man in our house really too you see' she said 'and he ain't never said it out like that before. When he an' dad gets too old for work I don't know what'll 'appen. I know I don't.'
'Well, of course,' Mr Jones said, 'he wouldn't be so young now' he said and was moved at her confiding in him.
She pressed closer to him.
'No, that's right, he ain't But he loves his work. What'll come to us when he an' dad gets too old for it I don't know. Grandad won't know where he is. Yes I often lie awake o' nights thinking 'ow 'e'll manage. And how us'll get on, dad and the rest,' she said and was silent. As they walked, then Mr Jones had rush of feeling. He saw everything one way. 'Us working people we got to work for our living,' he said passionately, 'till we're too old. It's no manner of use thinking about it, it's like that, right on till we're too old for them to use us. Then our children'll make provision for us,' he said and stopped and suddenly he kissed her for the first time. She pressed up to his face, her eyes shining. Then for a long time they kissed each other, murmuring and not hearing what they murmured, behind cattle shed in field they had been crossing.
He sat at home alone in a chair picking his nose.
'The other day I met a girl called Glossop' he said in his mind. He remembered he had asked Mary about her and she had known her by sight, had seen her at dances. Then how had he not seen her? But sometimes in reading, he thought, you will find word you do not know and when you learn the meaning then for a few days you come again and again upon that word. So perhaps he only noticed same people at dances. He thought you made a little circle and yours reflects other circles. Death, death, sackcloth and ashes.
When Lily wakes, her eyelids fold up and her two eyes soft, brutal with sleep blink out on what is too bright for them at first. She stirs a little in the warmness of bed. Then, eyes waking, she sees clearly about her and stretches. She brings arms up above heir head and takes hold on one of those parallel bars up behind pillow, and pulls her heavy thighs and legs out straight. Till she brings head up against that bar and till it forces head down on her breast, so she pulls. This done, she sits up, awake.
She saw in images in her mind how Mr Dale was to her like being on the verge of sleep, in safe bed. She laughed and stretched again. She turned to thinking of this new day and what she would have to get for the house today. Then she laughed again for she saw that was how she was with Bert Jones; with Jim she forgot, but with Bert she remembered. When she was with Bert it was like she had just stretched, then waked, then was full of purposes. But with Jim, it was like end of the day with him. Yes, she said, Bert's someone to work for, yes there's something in him she said in feeling and jumped out of bed.
Now Miss Gates and Mr Jones went out often together.
When they were out together once, after that, she saw clearly how unjust her life at home was to her, staying in all day, 'I never see another girl but over the garden fence and all the housework to do, yes, sometimes I could sit down and cry. And look at old Craigan now,' she said, 'I get black looks from him every time I come in after being out with you, he wants me to go out with Jim you see. But women aren't what they were, I'm not going to stay in an 'arem of his making, we're educated now. Yes he's made it pretty plain he wants Jim and me to be married but 'e can keep me in all day if he likes but he won't pick my husband. You've no idea, the 'ouse has got to be shining, there can't be a speck of dust or he'll say "what's this my wench?" Yes, that's what he says.'
'He won't let you go out to work?'
'No, he won't 'ear of it, I've got to stay in and wear away the linoleum by scrubbing,' and she said she did not know how she'd stood it up to then. She went on talking when he, more to draw her sympathy on him, said wasn't all that much enjoyment in factories.
'Oh yes, and how would you like to stay in all day by yourself and keep a place tidy, you're like all men, and then when they give you the 'ouse-keeping money Friday night to have nothing but black looks,' and seeing all this clearly in her mind she was scornful with him. He too, then, began to be angry.
'But when we're married, won't...' he began but she sprang at his face and then it was like so many other of their walks over again.
Later, still exalted, she drew back from him and said, whispering, surely he would not expect her to be like those other women, 'you won't be like dad,' she said, 'that had never any idea of bettering himself. You wouldn't want me to slave all my life till I was a bag of bones.' She said she was not afraid of the work, yes she was used to that looking after three men, but she couldn't do it if she didn't believe there was nothing better coming, 'we shan't be like the others Bert?' and he said of course they wouldn't be, at the works he was a picked man already.
'Come on then,' she cried jumping up, holding out arms to him, 'I can't sit still.' He jumped up and she ran backwards at that, her head held back and her arms now behind her back. But running forward to catch her he fell full length, cutting his forehead slightly.
She sat cross-legged and making resting place for his head in her lap she spat on handkerchief and wiped cut on his forehead, disconsolate, wiping blood off his forehead. Then he was happier than he had ever been before.
They came into front room after supper.
'Have you caught a chill or something?' Mrs Tarver said to her husband.
'I don't know. I don't think I feel well.'
'You ought to be in bed.'
'The young chap came down today.'
'What young chap's that?'
'Where's your mind? Why, young Dupret. Doris' he said to only child, 'what have we got there?'
'Young Mr Dupret,' breathed Mrs Tarver and moved her chair nearer his. 'Darling' she said to the child, 'don't worry daddy now.'
'Don't talk to her like that mother, you'll upset the child. What's that you've got in your hand
s, answer your daddy.'
'It's only a toy ukulele she got at Mrs Smith's party, dear. What did he say to you? You ain't going to say he didn't see at once who was right, and the wrong.'
'I don't know. Here, Doris, come and sit on daddie's knee and show him the ukulele. Well, ain't you a ukulele lady now!'
'I am!'
'Johnikins you don't say you couldn't see him so's to get your word in first.'
'Yes I saw him.'
'What did he say?'
'He didn't say anything.'
'Didn't say anything? D'you mean to say.... Then what did he do?'
'Nothing. Well he did this. He took the man off they'd put by the lavatory door checking the men in and out.'
'Daddy, don't you like my uku – uku – ukulele?'
'Was that all he did?'
'Don't you like my ukulele, daddy?'
'Don't worry daddy now dear. Go and play over there and put the doll to bed. What did he do that for?'
'To please himself I suppose.'
'And didn't he give you another draughtsman?'
'No.'
'What did he say to you, then?'
'He had a lot of this educated jargon, I didn't understand much of it, though I got a bit nearer to it than old Bridges. He went on about what a fine looking chap – beautiful, that's the word he used – a man in the iron foundry was. I don't know how an iron moulder can be beautiful but there you are.'
'He must be a dandy though if that's all he thinks of in the works. I suppose he 'as ladies trailing round him once he gets home, and a lot of good they'll do him.'
'He's soft.'
'But did you go through the works with him?'
'No, I was coming through the iron foundry from the fettling shop when I ran into him and the old man.'
'And didn't you speak to him?'
'Of course I spoke to him, what d'you think I am?'
'Johnikins, why don't you tell me something?'
'What can I tell you? I was there for about five minutes and he went back to the offices and turned round to me – "I'll come along and see you before I go" lardida he said and went into the old man's room. So I waited for him in my department and the next thing I knew was the noise of him going off in 'is Bentley.'
'Then how d'you think it was him who took the man away from there?'
'Ah that's where I come in. I sent down Bumpus to get some stamps in the outside office and to look about him and make eyes at the girls when all of a sudden out bursts the old squire right up in the air and behind him was the young fellow saying – "but come Mr Bridges it's nothing very terrible" (fancy saying that to the old squire!) "it's nothing very terrible, surely, such a small thing, lavatories..." and then he banged the door right in the young chap's face and went off. Bumpus comes back to tell me and the first thing I did was to get up to go and catch him in there with the old devil out of the way, when I hear the noise of his car. I run to the window and there's the young chap driving himself away.'
'Did he? What d'you say to that?'
'I don't know.'
'So he didn't come up and see you after all?'
'Doris, come and play to Daddy on your ukulele, daddie's tired.'
'Leave the child alone, do, you'll be the death of her. What d'you think? Didn't he say nothing about another draughtsman?'
'Not a word.'
'Well he's crossed old Bridges in one thing, and that's to the good, the old scarecrow.'
'Yes, but what do we know went on else. He was there some time, must have been. And if he'd crossed the old man before then the old scarecrow would have been out of the room before that and Bumpus would have seen him. You can depend on his always rushing out when he's crossed.'
'I see they've took the man off from there,' nodding to lavatory door said Mr Tupe to Mr Bentley.
'They had to.'
'Why's that?'
'They were made to' Bentley heavily said. 'As soon as ever I saw a man put on there I said that's a thing a woman won't stand. I 'ad that factory inspector in me mind's eye. I thought to myself she'd never stand for it. And she didn't, that's why he's suspended.'
'But she 'asn't been through, not since that man was put on. 'Er angel feet've not crossed our thres-bloody-'old.'
'She must've 'eard then.'
'Well if you wan't to know, the young feller took 'm off. And the more's the pity I say.'
'Young Dupret?'
'That's 'im. Now it'll be the old story again, 'alf an hour's work and then twenty-one minutes in there for a smoke and a chat. They've got no conscience to the firm or to theirselves.'
'As the fly said to the spider. Of all the dirty swine – excuse my saying so – you're one of them. And if it was young Dupret 'e was made to.'
' 'E wasn't, 'e did it on 'is own from what I can 'ear of it. Probably 'e was 'alf witted enough to suppose 'e was pleasing mangy young Russian tykes like you.'
'I wonder at a man of your age swallowing what you swallow.'
'Speaking of beer' Mr Tupe said genially 'I could get down twice what you'd had after you couldn't drink no more, when your head was communing with the stars: if you'd care to try any night, you paying the drinks?'
'My poor old man, how are you?' Mrs Dupret said coming into sick room, 'how do you feel in yourself?'
Mr Dupret lay propped up on pillows. He related how his nurse had told him that he was 'naughty to ring so often and should be spanked.' Courageously he made a comedy out of it.
Mrs Dupret asked what tip should be given to this nurse when she had packed her things, for her one line of original research was into the question of tips. Mr Dupret decided at once and when his wife said surely not so little, since Archie, when he was ill, and had had a nurse for about the same period, had given her quite six shillings more he said no, he would give her that amount and no less. She said how very interesting that was to her. He said she would call him mean perhaps but she said not the least bit in the world, only it was so fascinating what tips people gave. The most absurd person of course was Proust, she said – her voice hazed with wonder. He had given enormous tips, big, huge, it was fantastic, she said sitting down by the bed, he had thought nothing of giving 200 francs to a waiter who brought his, his – well any little thing, but then he was not a gentleman she murmured, enviously almost. For what she wanted most in the world sometimes was to give huge tips but had never dared, she thought the waiter might take her for an actress. (She was of that generation of women which still feared actresses.)
Mr Dupret said Jews had brought the Continent to a ridiculous state with extravagant tipping, that was why he would never go abroad. 'I know dear,' she said. But he went on that it was really to spare her the anxiety of having to give them, he said she knew she never slept the night before moving out of a hotel abroad, and to spare her the disappointment when ten per cent was added to the bill so that there were no tips.
'I've got such a clever book here for you dear' she said, 'it's called Lenin and Gandhi. You ought to read it.' He put it down by the side of the bed.
'There's a thing in it which I thought so amusing darling,' she said 'which is where he says the Brahmins or Hindus, one of those people I don't know which, sit for whole half hours saying the same word over and over again. Of course it's very unkind, but it's so like Dickie when he's in love.' She said didn't he know that Dickie was starting another affair and Mr Dupret said another one? and she said yes, a girl called Glossop, a very nice girl from all she could make out, 'but very dull, I'm afraid, like all Dick's young ladies.' There was a certain stage in all his affairs when he sat and repeated to himself over and over again darling, darling, darling, like that, so like those old men squatting on the mountains. Mr Dupret laughed 'ho, ho!' Then he asked how she knew. 'Why the darling' she said 'he always tells me in spite of himself all those things like that about his girls. Then he has to go and make out a reason for his having told me so he shan't seem to have given himself away without meaning to. He is rather a darling, isn't he
, Jack?'
'He's a nice boy but he's very silly still' said Mr Dupret. 'He's got no head.'
Mrs Dupret said she thought he wouldn't marry for another nine years at least but now her husband was bored and began to give instructions, summoning people and sending them off, all on business, and he dismissed Mrs Dupret. Going away she thought how nice it had been and still was while he lay ill though he wasn't really ill now any more of course, he was just pretending and it was high time he got about again. But how nice it had been, she had seen so much more of him since he had hurt his shoulder, usually he was working when he wasn't asleep. He worked all day.
She marvelled at the correctness of the tip he had decided on for that nurse, and to decide at once like that, he had a genius for tips, she thought. She went to get ready before going out.
But still, poor old man she thought, there was something about it which she didn't altogether like. His staying in bed like that made her uneasy. And when the doctors said there was nothing the matter with him now, why didn't he get up?
Again, some other morning, she was in his bedroom and they were talking about young Mr Dupret, Dick, and she said how she had seen this girl Hannah Glossop several times again and that she was giving a dinner party for her soon, though of course the party was not to look as though it were hers; Hannah – from talking about her to Dickie she called her Hannah now – would just, to all appearances, be one of the other girls.
Mr Dupret was listless and asked how Dick was getting on with the Dupret and son business and his wife said she thought he was so interested. Why was it, she asked him, that all this time he had not once asked after that 'side' when he had been managing all his other interests from his bed. He answered that he had decided to give him a free run of the place till he got back to work again, 'there is nothing like the actual experience for teaching you' he said and that when he got back he intended altering every single alteration the boy had made 'just to show him.'
