Loving, Living, Party Going

by Henry Green

  'Why, sir, a wire rope parted and one end in coming down narrowly missed a man.'

  'When was this? Why wasn't I told?' Mr Dupret rose from out of chair.

  'Three months ago I think sir. I only heard the other day and I didn't mention it to you as of course I thought Mr Bridges would have reported it to you.'

  'This is disgraceful, I didn't even know of it!' Mr Dupret was furious. 'What happened?'

  'The wire rope parted, sir, and nearly caught an iron moulder called Craigan. Of course it would have killed the man if he had met it.'

  'Of course, yes. Why didn't Bridges tell me?'

  'Mr Bridges certainly should have reported the matter. I did not mention it as I felt he was sure to have done so.'

  'I suppose he thinks I'm a back number and mustn't be told what's going on. What if he'd killed what's-his-name?'

  'He is getting an old man now I'm afraid, Mr Dupret, and he doesn't go round to see for himself that things are in a proper condition.'

  He thought to himself yes, yes that was it, hush it up and think he wouldn't get to hear of it, incompetent old loafer, he'd see who was the boss, he'd teach him. Where was Walters? He'd let him see what he thought. He'd show them in their dotage they weren't still kings of old castle and they couldn't impose on him as they'd done on his father. Where was Walters? But perhaps he had better wait till he had calmed down. Yes, he would wait till tomorrow.

  'All right, Archer,' he said, and Archer went out delighted.

  Had anyone ever heard anything like it, young Mr Dupret shouted to himself, serious accident and no word about it said to head of the business. That swine Bridges. Damn them.

  Soon as hooters in these factories sounded for dinner hour young man took his dinner over to where Mr Craigan sat every dinner hour eating bread and meat. This young man was in great state of agitation. He spoke quickly and was saying Andrew (foreman in iron foundry shop) had been at him again, it was persecution, Andrew had said he was used to getting eight of those brackets he was doing now to the five he was getting from him. But he knew, he said, Andrew was lying there as last time any had been off that pattern Will, who was in thick with Andrew, had done not more than four with no word spoke to him. He was saying to Mr Craigan Andrew was dead against him, lord if was another job going he'd go to it quick enough, and he'd like to see Andrew do eight off that pattern himself, he'd have eight wasters, you'd see, when they came to be cast. Anyroad, he said, if it was possible for a man to do eight it was a day work job anyway, was no bonus or piece work on that job. It wasn't right, he kept on saying, it wasn't right.

  Mr Craigan said to go back and do what the foreman told him. When you were young you had to go about and into different shops to learn the trade, but he had not been in this foundry long, which was good shop for experience in general work. Besides that, Mr Craigan said, was no work going just now, and he didn't want to be out of a job, surely.

  'You go back and do what the foreman tells you,' he said, and soon this young man said well he would see how it was going to turn out, and if Andrew had in mind to go on dogging him and making it misery for him to work under him or no.

  'You go on back,' Mr Craigan said, 'in my time foremen 'ave asked me to do a number more than eight off patterns similar to what you're workin' off.' He said no more and then this young man went away.

  Mr Craigan sat there all the hour as he did always and when hooters sounded once more in these factories to tell men was only five minutes before work, he went to gate to put his check in, which he did. He went over then to drinking water tap. It happened Tupe was there. Stream of men was coming through gate. They put in their checks. Tupe was very angry. He had no money left for beer and it angered him to drink water. No one would lend him money. Mr Craigan waited till he was done and then took white enamelled cup which hung down from nail on the wall and which Tupe had been drinking from. He rinsed it out. Mr Tupe saw this and for benefit of men who were coming in he began joking about Mr Craigan rinsing cup out. But he hated Mr Craigan, and, from crowd of men being about, anger rose in him and he made personal injury to himself out of Mr Craigan's rinsing cup out. Then veil passed on his eyes and he shouted insults though he did not mention Mr Craigan's family. Men stood round. Mr Craigan meantime was drinking water. When he was done he rinsed cup out and went away. As he went through the door into factory he said 'ow do to one who was standing with other men there. When he was gone all turned backs on Tupe.

  Mr Dupret, after he had waited three days, dictated letter to Mr Bridges in Birmingham. He dictated with many pauses for he was not used to it, but he wanted all London office to know what he had put in this letter.

  'Dear Mr Bridges,' it was, 'I have just learned of an accident which happened in the iron foundry some months back which might have caused serious injury or cost the life of a moulder named, I think, Craigan. I am sorry that you should not have notified me re this matter. In future I would be glad if you sent me a full report in the event of similar occurrences. Yrs faithfully,' and he signed name after that and had office girl to type managing director under signature. He was pleased with letter as being very restrained.

  So soon as Mr Bridges read it he telephoned to Mr Walters in London. When Mr Walters came to telephone he asked him had he heard anything about letter which he had just got from young Dupret and Walters said no. What tomfoolery was it now, Mr Walters asked? Mr Bridges said it wasn't tomfoolery, news of today was that he was resigning. Mr Walters said come now Arthur. Mr Bridges said he was and Mr Walters said what, Dick? and Bridges said no, Arthur Bridges was sending for his cards after fifty-four years' work. Walters said what was it for God's sake, and Mr Bridges said listen to this and read young Mr Dupret's letter to him. 'Managing director, d'you get that rightly' screamed he down telephone. Mr Walters said bloody cheek. He said he would speak to young fool-now about it and rang off then, leaving Bridges wildly talking.

  Saturday afternoon. Lily Gates and Bert Jones went out together.

  'Old Mr Craigan was on at me' she said, 'the other night about our going out together.'

  'On at you was 'e? What did he say about me?'

  ' 'E didn't say anything about you. It was all about my Auntie Ellie.'

  'What did she do?'

  'She ran away with a groom, yes, when she was married.'

  'What's that got to do with you and me? Are you going to run off with some other chap when we're married?'

  They kissed then.

  'Go on' he said, 'don't listen to that old cuckoo.'

  ' 'E's been like a father to me Bert.'

  'Is that any reason why 'e should 'ave you all to 'imself?'

  'D'you really want to 'ave me?'

  They kissed.

  'Yes,' she said. She drew a little back from him. ' 'E said some terrible things.'

  'What did he say then?'

  'I don't know, not what you might like put into words. But to one who knowed him!'

  ' 'Ow old are you? Are you still a kid?'

  'What d'you mean?'

  'D'you mean to tell me 'e can frighten you into trembles just by talking about something else to you?'

  ' 'E never says much in the ordinary way of things you see.'

  'You're a girl' he said, 'I suppose that's how it is. But we're respectable. I don't see what 'e's got against me. If my father and mother lived in Birmingham I'd 've taken you to see 'em long before now. We've been out to take tea with my mother's sister. And I've often said, often 'aven't I now, that I'd like you to come to Liverpool to see the ma and dad. I'd better go and see your old man, shall I?'

  'No, Bert, no you mustn't go and see 'im.'

  'Well what about your father?'

  'Oh dad, 'e does what Mr Craigan tells 'im.'

  'And so do you from what I can see of it.'

  Moodily together they walked. Revolt gathered in her.

  Later she was saying, exalted:

  'Yes we're different to what we were, we've a right now to know things and choose for
ourselves. Time was when a girl did just what her parents told 'er and thought herself lucky to do it, yes but we're different now. Why shouldn't I go out with you and 'ave a good time on me own? 'E's getting old, that's what it is. Of course I'm fond of 'im, 'e's been like a father and mother to me since my mother died when I was born so to speak, but I've worked for 'im ever since I was old enough, yes I've earned the right to think for myself. I cooks for all of them, 'im and dad and Jim Dale that lives with us as a boarder.'

  'Well, I mean, you're a 'uman being aren't you?'

  'Yes, girls now can pick for themselves. It's not like it was in the old days. Yes, I've chosen and 'e can say what 'e likes.'

  Under this hedge again they kissed. Later again she was saying: 'Oh Bert we shan't be like the others shall we dear,' and he said if Duprets didn't appreciate him he would move some place where he was appreciated. And was a place he had written to, had got friend when they were boys together from Liverpool there, who would put in word for him and was more chance there, for Duprets was old fashioned, you couldn't get on in it. And when 'flu had been so bad January they had sent him out to that very firm with a fitter to put job up and manager there had said kind things to him, 'you should 'ave 'eard 'im,' said he. Lily Gates, listening, saw him as being foreman one day soon.

  Old Mr Dupret lay in bed and as, day by day, he said a little more, so the hopes of each one in his house were raised little by little. Mrs Dupret even was becoming her old helpless self again. In the past he had always done all her thinking for her, then, while he had been so ill, she had been forced into being practical to a certain degree, and now, as he seemed to become daily more and more competent to deal with what was about him, so her sanity, what there was of it, so it ebbed and she was drifting back again to the gentle undulations of her spirit which heaved regularly with her breathing like the sea, and was as commonplace.

  One day even he called for his letters. Of the first six letters they opened for him one was from Walters, one of his weekly reports. After describing the progress of several orders Walters went on to say how well Dick was doing, only that he had slightly overstepped the bounds of his authority when he had told Bridges to take that man off the lavatory door. But perhaps Mr Walters wrote, Mr Dupret himself had authorized it. After reading this Mr Dupret sent for Walters and a stenographer.

  He was never so well again.

  The next day Walters arrived and Mr Dupret had strength enough to dictate and sign a letter in which he ordered a different man to be put on at the lavatory door to check the men in and out. He whispered to Walters, when he had signed, that Dick's having done that must have made Bridges very angry, 'who is so young for his sixty years,' Mr Dupret whispered with a sly smile and then lay back and shut eyelids over his eyes. Thus Mr Walters was unable to tell him of the letter his son had written to Bridges because the old man was so visibly exhausted. Even if the doctor had not come in at that moment and ordered him out, he would have crept out then.

  Walters went back to London, by Birmingham. He called at works on his way. He gave Bridges that letter from the chief and told him old man was very bad, he said it looked to him he might be dead any, time now. Bridges said nonsense. His father, he said, had gone that way, but would be about again soon like his father had been, you'd see. And that letter was just what he wanted, said he, this would show young chap he wasn't cock of the roost yet. Had he told him about young chap's last effort, Mr Bridges asked, but Walters, eyes dimmed, said no, what manner of use was in talking of that to a dying man. 'He was a grand fine man,' Mr Walters said, 'a grand man,' in his dull voice. 'Is 'e as sick as that?' said Mr Bridges.

  8

  She lay, above town, with Jones. Autumn. Light from sky grew dark over town.

  She half opened eyelids from her eyes, showing whites. She saw in feeling. She saw in every house was woman with her child. In all streets, in clumps, were children.

  Here factories were and more there, in clumps. She saw in her feeling, she saw men working there, all the men, and girls and the two were divided, men from women. Racketing noise burst on her. They worked there with speed. And then over all town sound of hooters broke out. Men and women thickly came from, now together mixed, and they went like tongues along licking the streets.

  Then children went into houses from streets along with these men and girls. Women gave them to eat. Were only sparrows now in streets. But on roads ceaselessly cars came in from country, or they went out into it, in, out.

  Smell of food pressed on her. All were eating. All was black with smoke, here even, by her, cows went soot-covered and the sheep grey. She saw milk taken out from them, grey the surface of it. Yes, and blackbird fled across that town flying crying and made noise like noise made by ratchet Yes and in every house was mother with her child and that was grey and that fluttered hands and then that died, in every house died those children to women. Was low wailing low in her ears.

  Then clocks in that town all over town struck three and bells in churches there ringing started rushing sound of bells like wings tearing under roof of sky, so these bells rang. But women stood, reached up children drooping to sky, sharp boned, these women wailed and their noise rose and ate the noise of bells ringing.

  But roaring sound came in her ears and a sun, dark half cold, pressed onto her face. Bert kissed her. She woke. She heard tinkling sound of a pebble in a can which boy was dragging along path. Till all women she remembered, to each one a child, and she clung to man and said she had dreamed, had dreamed, dreamed.

  And then in bed, after, rigid, she cried in her, I, I am I.

  I am I, why do I do work of this house, unloved work, why but they cannot find other woman to do this work.

  Why may I not have children, feed them with my milk. Why may I not kiss their eyes, lick their skin, softness to softness, why not I? I have no man, my work is for others, not for mine.

  Why may I not work for mine?

  Why mayn't they laugh at my coming in to them. Why is there nothing that lives by me. And I would do everything by my child in the morning and at evening, why haven't I one? I would work for him who made child with me, oh day and night I'd be working for them, and get up in the night to feed him and in morning to get father's tea. I would be his mother, he his father, why have I no child?

  Lord give me a child that I might wash him, feed him, give him life. Yes let him be a boy. Give him blue eyes, let him cling to me with his hands and never be loosed from me. Give him me to love that I'm always kissing him and working for him. I've had nothing of my own. Give him me and let him be mine, oh, oh give me a life to work for, and give me the love of him, and his father's.

  Young Mr Dupret sat in their country house picking nose.

  Why, he said in mind, why could not the old man die? Of course was gratitude and all that of sons to fathers but, old mummy, why couldn't he die. He had made mother's life misery to her, he had never done anything for him but to pull him up, all the time, taking him away from school, and again, little things, whole time. Then to pretend collapse, question was if he wasn't just shamming, when dinner party for Hannah was to come off, so it had to be cancelled. And how did fathers expect sons to learn business without making mistakes? Now after what had been done he couldn't go back to Birmingham. He couldn't look Bridges face to face.

  How pleased Bridges would be.

  He wasn't, he said again in his mind, going back to business till old man thought better of it. Besides mother wanted him. And what picture she had made of him and herself and of father with that ridiculous harlot. To put her into bedroom where he lay and all of them waiting outside – disgusting, filthy, revolting. He'd made that plain to her and it seemed to be telling on her. She mustn't do that again, or something like it. Pity was the old man did not get rush of blood to head and die of it, malicious old figure head.

  Doctors said was no hope for him now. He felt he could go up now to room and say 'die, old fool, die.' Trouble was of course he was not an old fool, but clever li
ke the devil.

  Mr Bridges went down through works in Birmingham till Tupe he found.

  'What about that Craigan?' Mr Bridges said.

  'What about 'im?' Tupe said.

  'What I want to get at is' said Mr Bridges, 'is what happened when that wire rope gave some time back.'

  'Nothin' didn't 'appen.'

  'Didn't it come down somewhere by Craigan?'

  'I know it daint,' Mr Tupe said. 'It broke sure enough but there weren't much strain on it that moment and it wouldn't've bruised 'is arse if it 'ad fetched 'im one. But God strike me 'andsome if 'e didn't raise 'is ugly old dial an' start blubberin' an' made such a 'ullaballoo as if 'e might be dead, or the only one in the shop. That's 'im all over.'

  'So it wasn't nearly all over with 'im.'

  'All over with 'im? No! But it would've been a good thing for this factory if it'd caught 'im and so killed 'im. There's only one man in that shop by 'is way of looking at it and that's 'im. There's always trouble between 'im and Andrew (that was foreman in iron foundry shop in this factory). You listen to me, sir, the men'll go to 'im before they go to the foreman, it's God's truth I'm telling you. There'd be 'alf as much more work done again in there if 'e weren't in there. 'E's a trouble maker, like you find in all factories, but there ain't been a place I've worked in where there's been the like of 'im.'

  ' 'E's the best moulder I've got. I'd give £100 for another like him.'

  ' 'E may be a good enough moulder, Mr Bridges, but look 'ow slow 'e is. 'E works to suit 'is own convenience, not the firm's.'

  Mr Bridges was moving off.

  ' 'Ow's the gaffer, sir, if you don't mind me asking you,' Mr Tupe said to change subject of conversation and because he could not abide seeing Bridges going away.

  'He's pretty bad. The young chap is down there with 'im, and aint been to work this week. It looks bad.'

  'Well, I don't know,' said Tupe, cunning, 'that dandy 'e daint ever go to work, do 'e!' Mr Tupe said and Bridges, laughing, went away.