by Henry Green
'I knows what the old man likes, it's butter, not margarine, an' I gives it to 'im,' Tupe said, in his mind, rejoicing.
Later Mr Bridges sat in chair in his office.
Mr Bridges in his thinking and in most of his living was all theatre. Words were exciting to him, they made more words in him and wilder thinking.
Sometimes liquid metal foundrymen are pouring into moulding box will find hole in this, at the joint perhaps, and pour out. Sometimes stream of metal pouring out will fall on patch of wet sand or on cold iron, then it will shower out off in flying drops of liquid metal. To see this once or twice perhaps is exciting. But after twice, or once even, you just go to stop hole up where metal from box is pouring.
So with Mr Bridges.
You were to him speaking, and he began quietly answering, then, suddenly, he was acting, sincere in feeling, but acting, and words were out pouring, fine sentiments fine. At first you said, 'fine old man' in your mind, at last you were thinking only how to plug him. And with him this was not only with his talking, it was also in his silent thinking.
So in his thinking he thought now Mr Dupret is dying. He thought how he'd worked fifteen years for Mr Dupret. 'And never a cross word between us.' He began now in his thinking. He made Mr Dupret into angel beaming from sky, he saw Mrs Dupret and all their servants weeping in front parlour. He saw slavey bring Mrs Dupret cup of tea from the kitchen, 'from humblest to the highest' he was saying in his thinking, without her ever having asked for a cup. He was seeing doctors, great surgeons going in and out of room where the Chief was lying. Inside he for life was fighting. Mr Bridges thought then how all had to come to it, 'great and small, King and navvy.' He thought one day he would die, the wife would die.
And he thought then, sobering, he was too old to get another job and what would happen when young Dupret was head of business? And he couldn't afford to retire, wife had made him spend all the salary, were hardly no savings. What would happen to them? But then he thought the Chief was sure to put someone older as partner to young chap, or adviser, or trustee. You couldn't put kid like that at head of business, government wouldn't allow it. No, he thought, forgetting grieving.
Young Mr Dupret sat at bottom of garden down by where flowed river Thames. Autumn was about. Down this river leaves came floating on the water, yellow leaves, and with each coming of the wind yellow leaves left trees and came floating down on to the water, quietly settling on the Thames. So now thoughts settled three by three in his mind and soon he thought no more but as river Thames slipped away to the sea so drifted into sleeping.
Sunshine was pale. So drifted into sleep. Yet came party from Maidenhead in launch up the river, men and women, a silver launch. Laughter came like birds from women in it. It came on slowly and he opened eyes and it went by, this laughter reaching him. He stretched and watched it go. Laughter from it fluttered back to him and then in wide circle launch turned leisurely and came back past him and he thought why did they turn it there. Why did they turn it there he thought and then man on launch played dance tune from the wireless they had on it and it went on down with stream till he could see them no more but still hear them, then he could not hear them any more.
Women were on that launch, he envied the men. They would be back at Maidenhead for tea, he thought.
He thought and saw in his mind was no good his staying here with father getting no better nor any worse, and he saw what he most needed now was the company of women, like on that silver launch. Hannah. He thought he would go back to London. Also mother needed rest, he would try and bring her with him.
Again he thought was no use in struggling against that one defeat with Bridges. He would go back to work, and if Bridges and Walters mentioned man being put on at lavatory door he would tell them just what he thought. It was hollow triumph of theirs he thought and he would show them just how hollow. It would not be long now before he showed them.
He shook afternoon from off him and went back into house.
Still flowed river Thames and still the leaves were disturbed, then were loosed, and came down on to water and went by London where he was going, by there and out into the sea.
Mr Craigan with Joe Gates and Dale that was his mate in iron foundry, these sat at supper and Lily brought food in to them. Happiness moved with her where she went. Yet Bert was not going out with her that night, he had business. Yet in all she did showed happiness.
Dale wanted a knife, but, getting up from table, for himself fetched it.
And Gates asked to pass bread. Lily stretched for this, but Mr Dale leaned, he pushed bread forward over to him.
When plate of meat was eaten he handed plate to her and Craigan's that was next him.
When supper was over he fetched beer. The two old men had settled in chairs and were smoking. He said then to Miss Gates if she was going out tonight. She said not tonight. He said would she care to go to the movies? She said she didn't mind. They went off.
When they had got seats even at cinema he said nothing, like he always did say nothing. She for this was grateful and sat apart from him in her seat in glory of secret happiness. He felt this and he was miserable. She was so grateful to him and he said nothing and she hardly watched film, she thought so of Bert.
So.
9
Hannah Glossop.
Her father also had been sick and she had gone home, in country, over the weekend. Doctor had motored down from London to see her father. That night his chauffeur had been watching machinery which made electric light for this house in country. He watched too close, caught in fly-wheel he was killed.
She had never seen him but when she heard she cried. She cried all the weekend. Nothing had ever been near her before. No one had ever been badly hurt near her.
They said: 'darling, but you never saw the poor man.'
She said: 'I know,' and cried.
They said: 'darling, the doctor's providing for his family.'
She said: 'I know,' and cried.
'You never saw him, he can mean nothing to you,' they said to her, and she said again and again, 'to think of his dying!'
She cried all weekend, and she got quite weak. Doctor became quite worried over her. At last he told her mother was nothing physical the matter with her he was sure. What really was wanted he said was for something to do to be found for her, some work for her to do he said.
Her mother said work? What work could she do? It was true, she said, she had enjoyed enormously General Strike when she had carried plates from one hut to another all day, that was true enough, but what work could she do? Doctor said of course to be married would be the best thing for her but 'in the interim' he thought some kind of work was what she wanted, and he went away with hired chauffeur.
Another night. She had cleared table after supper. She went off out.
Jim Dale stayed a little, then he got up.
'Where you goin' Jim?' Mr Gates said.
'To the boozer,' and he went off out.
'Goin' to the boozer, did you 'ear that?' said Gates to Mr Craigan, 'that's what she's doing, she's drivin' a good lad to go and wet 'is troubles. 'E daint ever use to go before. And 'e's a good lad. Why can't I give 'er a clout?'
Mr Craigan was silent
'It's wicked I reckon,' Mr Gates said. 'Ah and she gave him a short week the other week, that day when Arthur was singing and he put on his coat and went out. An' she don't wash up of an evening even, but leaves it till morning. She's got too much money, that's what it is, and you can wager she pays for Bert Jones into the movies.'
Mr Craigan put wireless earphones over his head.
'You and yer wireless,' Gates softly said, 'it's enough to make anyone that lives with you light 'eaded, listening like you might be a adder to the music. I'll go and 'ave one,' he said. He got up, 'I'll go to the boozer and 'ave one.'
Mr Gates went to public, to public where Tupe was.
Tupe drank with Gates and Gates with Tupe. 'Yes,' said Mr Tupe finishing story,' 'e said to her,
them are one and nine.'
'Them are one and nine, 'e said to 'er,' Gates chimed, and this story was done. He drank of his beer in pot.
'Ah,' he said easing trousers, 'that's the 'ang of 'em. Females is like that right enough. Take our wench. What do she do with the money?'
' 'Ow much d'you give 'er Friday nights?'
Mr Gates drank again.
'Mind, I'm not askin' as some would,' confidentially Mr Tupe said, 'I'm not Paul bloody Pry.'
Because Mr Gates was a little drunk, he leaned, he whispered.
'Strike!' Tupe said, 'You give 'er all that much?'
'Ah!' said Mr Gates flattered, 'we daint ever stint in our 'ouse.'
'Stint!' said Mr Tupe, 'I wonder 'er wouldn't choke you with grub on that money.'
'I never did hold with stintin' the grub, nor Craigan daint'
'Nor I do. But on that money my old woman'd keep three kids as well and them'd ave more'n enough to eat. It's wicked, Joe, 'er's twistin' yer.'
'Twistin' is 'er?'
'All that money and 'er says it goes in grub. You can bet it daint. I give our old woman three bob less'n that and there's enough an' more to eat in our 'ouse, an' 'er gets 'er own clothes and anything for the 'ouse.'
Mr Gates banged fist then on table.
'I'll wager she pays for Bert Jones into the movie.'
'Why in course she do. Look 'ere Joe, what's Craigan at in your 'ouse.'
'It ain't my 'ouse, it's 'is'n.'
'What's 'e at, anyroad.'
In another public Mr Dale alone sat about, not drinking.
'What d'you mean, what's 'e at?'
'Do 'im pay 'er Friday nights,' Mr Tupe said.
'I think e' do,' said Mr Gates. They talked and Gates confided more in Tupe who got mysterious more and more. Each spoke in broader country accent they had come from to Birmingham, speaking louder.
Getting more drunk Gates forgot seriousness and said what good thing that Dale went to pub, which he did not do before, it would anger Mr Craigan. He was good lad, Gates said, he did not expeet you to do your own and three others' work, like some expected. A drop of beer would do him good, say who would water was lion's drink. But Craigan now, if you looked up two moments at work he was down your throat, and then in evenings, in their house it was like being in a hearse with wireless to it: 'Dirty ice-faced 'ermit,' Gates said, holding sides, he was laughing at own image in a glass, ' 'e'd listen to the weather reports so long that 'e wouldn't tell what it was doin' outside, rainin', snowing or sleet.'
Few young men go to public houses in Birmingham, then, only when they are married. So when Mr Dale went he was alone, nor did he want to talk.
Mr Gibbon said after he had done the Holy Roman Empire he felt great relief and then sadness at old companion done with. Mr Dale wanted to feel relief but felt only as if part of him was not with him, and sadness of a vacuum.
Griping sorrow was in void in him, but felt he could draw into him all winds of air for sympathy with him, that he must take hold on someone and clutch him so he would not go away and say all the sadness that was in his heart to him, and suck the sympathy back from that one.
But then he could not do all that (what would people think of him?) so he went to where was warmth and noise, were many people and talking, nor did he drink but sat over pot of beer hoping to be distracted.
– This is substance of what he wanted, though he did not know what he wanted.
Also young Mr Dupret was restless so he came to London, and Miss Glossop also came to be distracted.
They met at dinner party. They sat next each other. She did not remember him but soon they were talking. And from their mouths this time went words that seemed like to sink into each other's eyes.
Soon he was saying what trouble parents were to their children and she got very interested.
(She thought mother was real cause of her not getting married. She would not let her do anything, when she enjoyed washing up – which she had never done but three times at picnics and the General Strike. She blamed mother for uselessness feeling she had just now, and but for that useless feeling she would not have cried when chauffeur was killed. So she got very interested.)
Then he said how his father was dying now, and how sad it was. How he had had to drag mother up here away for a rest He said the doctors told them would be months before he died yet. Now bending her face to his she shone out feeling over him.
'It's so awful,' she said, 'I can't get used to the feeling of death. A doctor came to stay with us last week. His chauffeur got caught up in the thing that makes our electric light. He was killed. Poor man, he was dead at once and its so awful to think that it can happen to anyone. Of course its different for old people because they're old, but young people like us, we might go and die any time.'
They talked so, all through dinner, and hostess noticed. She thought in her mind young people didn't play the game nowadays but talked only on one side of them from soup till dessert if they were interested. 'Mr Dupret has talked to Hannah all through dinner,' she said in her mind, 'and there's poor Di next him absolutely starved. All she can do poor child is to listen to what's going on across the grapes over on the other side of the table. Henry's just as bad as the other boy, he won't speak to her either.'
So he talked to her throughout dinner and when ladies went and port was sent round he did not join in conversation then, he did not talk because he was still finding more in feeling to say to her. When they got into cars to go on to this dance, they went in different cars. He sat silent thinking of presently when they sat out.
As she sat in car misery came back over her, he was so clever she thought, and she must have seemed so silly talking to him all dinner when it hadn't been much, not worth all the notice it attracted, their talk. Also she felt fat.
When he came out of cloakroom he waited for her at foot of stairs in crowd of people. When she came out of cloakroom she looked happy as happy. Why, thought he, can this be for me? He pressed forward to her. She let him take her upstairs.
She hardly knew he was there, truth to tell!! As they had got out of motor-car, there, in doorway, just going in, Tom Tyler, back from Siam. Tom Tyler!! 'Tom!' she had screamed, 'Annie!' He was here!
As they went upstairs, so the music came nearer to them from room was dancing in.
Chandelier hung from ceiling on a level with half way upstairs. It was like bell-shaped, and crystal, cut in all manners, formed it. As they went up he looked at chandelier., Chatter of people going up and down past him and he thought this great brilliant thing, you are like her only she is not so cold, but how like you are, he thought, all these people ascending, descending, and then, as first tones of dance music came down through chatter about, chandelier thrilled all through and light tumbled down along it, like it was a bell and notes trembling from the clapper.
So, as they went upstairs, and she had put her arm on his (she did not know it), so happiness tumbled down his spine. They went slowly, were many people. All these were talking as these two went further so dance music got much louder and louder, and so she glided up into bliss:
Your eyes are my eyes
My heart looks through
sang the band: bliss again to be in London, and Tom Tyler being here, just think of it, bliss, and she said to notes of xylophone, darlings, she said, darlings.
And again, this was to be lucky night, was no one to receive them and they danced straight out into the room, marvellous band, Roberts, and she was thinking Dick was Tom Tyler.
Your eyes are my eyes
My heart looks through
'Oh' she whispered, 'Oh' and he felt quite transported.
Just then Mr Dupret in sleep, died, in sleep.
' 'Ow are ye Albert?'
'Middlin' Aaron. The sweat was dropping from off me again last night from the pain.'
'Them,' said Mr Connolly nodding to group of men, (it was lunch hour in Dupret factory and men sat about) 'them tell me the old gaffer am dead.'
; 'Ah, he died in 'is sleep. I can't say it makes a deal of difference to me, I ain't ever seen 'im only the once. How old would 'e be in your estimation?'
Mr Connolly said he had had fine innings and then they talked of young Dupret's age. They said he was twenty-six and didn't the old chap have him late on in life, seeing he was seventy-eight when he died.
'It's the food and the comfortable life,' said Mr Milligan.
'It am' said Mr Connolly.
'Ah' Mr Milligan said, 'the young chap's no older than Bert Jones there that is just turned twenty-six.'
When Mr Dupret came back to office in London Mr Archer went in to him.
'Mr Dupret, sir' he said, 'the office have asked me to come on behalf of them all to convey their condolences in your bereavement, which is also ours, sir, but to a smaller degree of course. It is an honour I very much appreciate, if I may say so, in that I did not have the – the honour to work under him as long as some who have been in this office all their lives. But every day we were here we were learning from him sir, every day, I am sure no one knows that better than I do. It was a pleasure to work for him Mr Richard, always a kind word for everyone. I remember once as I happened to be sharpening a pencil he came up behind me without I heard him. He put his hand on my shoulder and said,
"Archer, go on as you are going on now and you will be all right!" I don't think I shall ever forget that, Mr Dupret, as long as it pleases our common father to spare me. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away, sir.'
Mr Dupret, embarrassed, said wreath they had sent looked very beautiful on the coffin. Archer went away delighted.
Mr Dupret thought how like father to say that to Archer and make joke for himself out of it in a wry way, knowing Archer would never see barbed end of it. How like too, to be always mistaken in his best men, good men like Tarver he thought nothing of while men like Bridges he exalted in his own manner, though without ever praising them.
