Georgy Girl

by Margaret Forster

  George thought, with relief, that that was a change. She waited, but James seemed to want her to guess. She couldn’t think of anything.

  ‘I don’t know,’ she said, slowly, ‘unless you want to engage me as your clown.’

  ‘I want you to be my mistress,’ said James, abruptly. ‘I’ve been thinking about it for a long time and I think it would work very well. What I propose is an agreement whereby either one of the contracting parties is free to opt out at any time, without notice, during a six months’ initial period, and then at a month’s notice thereafter. I’ll bear all the expense, of course, and undertake the formal adoption of any children. We’ll keep it secret, though Nell knows I’ve done this before, and she’d be a fool to object. Of course, we’ve nothing to worry about as far as your parents are concerned. I’ve got the draft of a contract here. Would you like to look at it?’

  She was looking a bit stunned, but then he’d expected that, poor girl. She went around looking such a sight that she couldn’t have imagined he’d overlook the glasses and big chin, and that anyway beauty didn’t interest him very much. Nell was beautiful and marrying her had been about his one mistake in life. George was intelligent and knew how to enjoy herself: those were the things that mattered.

  ‘You’re not offended because I’ve made it sound too businesslike, are you?’ he said, when she said nothing after he’d waited patiently for some time, ‘because believe me, it’s always the best way.’

  ‘I’m sure it is,’ murmured George. ‘I mean, I might slip my mooring and sail away. You make me sound like a ship.’

  ‘I thought you’d prefer that. I can be romantic as you like, given half a chance.’

  As if to substantiate this, he at last removed his bulk from in front of the fire and tentatively touched her arm.

  ‘That’s nice,’ said George.

  ‘I can do better than that,’ said James, and eagerly brought both arms round her. George shook him off.

  ‘I meant the warmth from the fire actually. You’ve been blocking it all from me.’

  ‘Aren’t you going to say yes or no?’

  ‘Yes or no,’ said George, and giggled.

  James swore. ‘You fool about too much,’ he said.

  ‘What will you do, Sir King, if I say no?’ she asked. ‘Burn mine humble dad at the stake?’

  ‘He won’t know anything about it either way. We’ll just forget about it and go on as before. I hardly ever see you these days, and I don’t support you any more, so I don’t see that it would cause any embarrassment.’

  ‘I’m a virgin,’ George said.

  ‘Think I didn’t know that?’

  ‘Well, wouldn’t you feel mean seducing a young innocent like me then leaving me as poor, shoddy, second-hand goods for life?’

  ‘No,’ said James, ‘it would do you good.’

  George let him kiss her, and tested all her reactions carefully. He smelt of cigars and shaving lotion which was very pleasant. His kiss, unlike the fiasco of the night before, was firm and dry, and she was startled to find his hands on her breasts excited her. It was really amazing.

  ‘The thing is,’ she said carefully, ‘that it’s not true what they say.’

  ‘What do they say.’

  ‘That a woman has to be roused by someone before she has any sexual awakening, where a man would feel it on a desert island. I’ve felt it for years, in an absolute vacuum and it doesn’t need anyone to rouse me. I’m just ripe for plucking, daddy-o.’

  ‘That’s what I think too,’ said James.

  George giggled again. ‘Do you know,’ she said, ‘I used to get myself into an absolute passion when I was about twelve imagining myself stripping in front of men. I just couldn’t wait for sex. I still can’t. I can imagine exactly what it will be like. Can’t you?’

  ‘Er – yes,’ said James.

  ‘Oh I forgot, of course you can. It would be rather funny if you couldn’t, wouldn’t it.’

  To James’ annoyance, her giggles got out of control and she lay back on the sofa, killing herself laughing. He got up and went back to his place in front of the fire and lit a cigar, putting the contract back in his wallet pocket.

  ‘I can see it’s no good talking to you in this mood,’ he said pompously. ‘What you’re indulging in now isn’t laughter, it’s silliness. Now sober up, Georgy,’ he added in a softer tone, ‘and give me some idea of what your answer’s going to be.’

  The doorbell rang. ‘Twice in one evening,’ said George. ‘This must be a record.’

  ‘Don’t answer it,’ said James.

  ‘Why ever not?’

  ‘Because we’re in the middle of something important.’

  She came back with Jos.

  ‘Jos,’ she said, ‘this is my uncle, Mr Leamington.’

  ‘How do you do sir,’ said Jos stiffly.

  ‘And Uncle Jim, this is Jos. He plays the double bass. He played it at your party last night, actually.’

  ‘Oh, did he?’ said James, disturbed. She’d kept stressing the uncle bit, and anyway he hadn’t known she had any boyfriends. Even one weedy, bespectacled musician made a difference.

  ‘How long have you known George?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, it’s really Meredith I know,’ said Jos.

  ‘Who’s Meredith?’

  ‘The girl who shares this flat with me,’ said George.

  James beamed. Everything was quite clear. He decided he’d better go, all the same.

  ‘I’ll be waiting to hear from you George,’ he said, when he got to the door. ‘The sooner the better, either way.’

  ‘Bastard,’ said George, as she came back into the room.

  ‘Him or me?’ said Jos.

  ‘You. It wouldn’t have cost you much to let him think you were my boyfriend.’

  ‘How was I to know you wanted me to?’

  ‘Oh, never mind. Meredith isn’t in. I thought you were playing at a party?’

  ‘It was cancelled. I thought she might just have decided to stay in. Do you know where she’s gone?’

  ‘No.’

  George felt remote from Jos instead of very aware of him, as she usually did. She sat down on the sofa, and folding her arms, stared at the picture above the mantelpiece. It was terrible to think that James was the only man interested in her. She might never have another offer, never be loved or anything. She actually felt tempted. She wanted sex so badly, she told herself, any man would do, and she’d quite enjoyed his kiss, so why be ashamed to admit it?

  Vaguely, she was aware that Jos was still standing. She drew her eyes from the picture and focused on him. He looked depressed.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she said. ‘Are you hurt that Meredith’s gone out?’

  ‘Don’t be bloody silly. I know I’m only one among many for her, and, for that matter, so is Meredith for me.’

  ‘Sorry. I forgot the pair of you just can’t find time to fit in all your admirers.’

  ‘Aw, shut up. It makes me sick, that sort of talk.’

  George obediently shut up.

  ‘It’s my job,’ said Jos, eventually, ‘or my lack of one. Another couple of weeks and I’ll have to go back to working in a bloody bank. I can’t get a permanent job and temporary ones are badly paid, when you think how long there is between them.’

  ‘Does money matter?’

  ‘Oh Christ!’

  ‘I mean, don’t you have enough to scrape by on?’

  ‘I’m twenty-eight. I can’t always go on scraping. I might want to get married one day.’

  ‘What does Meredith think?’

  ‘As you know, Meredith doesn’t care.’

  ‘I think you ought to stick to music, somehow. Have you tried every single orchestra there is?’

  ‘There aren’t that many in London.’

  ‘Well, outside London.’

  ‘Hell, I couldn’t go to Manchester or somewhere like that.’

  ‘Why not? If you really wanted to play for a living, and a job came
up there, it shouldn’t matter what sort of place it is.’

  ‘It shouldn’t, but it does.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Music’s second. Enjoying myself is first, and I couldn’t enjoy myself there. Everything’s dead after six and entertainment-wise there’s nothing at all outside London. Satisfied?’

  ‘I’m jealous.’

  ‘Of what?’

  ‘All this enjoying you do. I would never have imagined, looking at you now, that life was just a ball.’

  Jos smiled and began to walk round the room. George stayed where she was.

  ‘I didn’t know he was your uncle.’

  ‘He isn’t. My father works for him and he’s a sort of self-imposed fairy godfather.’ She started to giggle, as she had done when James was there. Jos came and sat beside her.

  ‘That,’ he said, ‘does my old, enjoying heart good. Although Fairy James didn’t look a very laughable prospect to me. What was he doing here, anyway?’

  ‘He had a proposition to make.’

  ‘Evil?’

  ‘Naturally. He wants me to be his mistress and set up house with him and rear his children, being as ‘ow he is passionate with love for me.’

  ‘No wonder he looked a bit blue when I came in. Did I interrupt your outraged reply?’

  ‘There wasn’t one.’

  ‘You didn’t agree, for God’s sake?’

  ‘I didn’t have time to do anything except giggle like this.’

  ‘When will you tell him?’

  ‘When I’ve made my mind up.’

  Jos stared, and then turned away with what was obviously intended to be a look of disgust. George flushed angrily. He had no right to condemn anything she might do. There was nothing more disgusting in James’s proposed alliance, with her than there was in his with Meredith. Maybe he merely found it physically, pictorially disgusting because James was big and fat, and she was ugly.

  ‘I hope you’re kidding,’ Jos said.

  ‘It’s nothing to do with you,’ said George, sharply.

  ‘Course it has. Nobody could stand by and watch that happen.’

  ‘What makes you think you’re so virtuous?’

  ‘I’m not. But at least I lust where I sleep and love where I love. You wouldn’t be doing either. What would you get out of it?’

  ‘A man of my own.’

  ‘You must be hard up,’ said Jos, without thinking.

  ‘I am. Desperate, that’s me. Twenty-seven and never been asked out by a fella, let alone kissed. Pathetic, isn’t it?’ said George brightly.

  Jos sighed. He decided he would go because in a minute the self-pitying sobs would break out, and after that the remorse, which was far worse. He turned his coat collar up and put his hands in his pockets. She went on smiling vivaciously at that damn picture.

  ‘Come on,’ he said, suddenly, ‘let’s go.’

  ‘Where?’ said George, startled.

  ‘I haven’t an idea. Just out of this dump for a start.’

  ‘If you’re just asking me because of what I said a minute ago, you needn’t bother.’

  ‘No, I needn’t, and yet, I am asking you.’ He strode out and she followed.

  Jos didn’t think where he was going, mainly because in his experience he’d never had to decide. Meredith and all his other sleeping partners usually let him know what they wanted to do and they accordingly did it. It wasn’t a case of being weak-willed, as he usually chose his girls because they liked doing what he did. That selection seemed limited as he walked down the road with George. Usually, if he and Meredith went for a meal, it was to stoke themselves up before bed; if they went to a club of some kind, and danced, it was a limbering up process before the real business of the evening began. Even a picture would be carefully chosen to act as an aphrodisiac. Without the end product, none of these pastimes was attractive.

  He kept walking while he thought, trying to look as though he knew why they were crossing from one corner to another. He couldn’t go to bed with George. It wasn’t that she was all that repulsive because he’d already decided that she wasn’t, but she’d talk so damn much and be analysing his motives and her own reactions all the time. One thing Meredith and her kind had in their favour was that they knew what bed was for, and didn’t mess up the process with a lot of tiring monologues. It seemed a shame that James would be the first to have her though, sheer waste. Jos felt it might almost be worth all the soul-searching and interrogation that would follow, just to queer his pitch.

  He decided a drink was an essential prelude to any sort of action, so he turned into a bar, and George followed. She had a half pint of bitter, which he thought rather unnecessary, and he had a whisky. He was at a terrible loss for anything to say. He didn’t do much talking with his women, not because he thought they couldn’t make intelligent conversation, but because he thought all conversation was pretty futile anyway. It made him laugh till he almost kicked himself when he heard couples in restaurants and places having spirited repartee sessions. The only ones he respected were the ones who kept stone-silent.

  ‘How long have you worked in a bank?’ said George. He looked at her warily, in case she was going to be all gay and tra-la.

  ‘From when I was sixteen to last June. That made it eleven years and ten months.’

  ‘Why did you start work there in the first place?’

  ‘Please teacher, because I had to earn my living and that was the only thing the lousy Youth Employment Officer had in his little book.’

  ‘What did you do all those eleven years? It must have been very boring,’ said George.

  Jos closed his eyes. It wasn’t true that all his girls had been like Meredith. Once, a little debbie type, all do-gooding, had picked him up when he played at her party and asked the same inane questions in her pretty, polite voice.

  ‘You don’t have to do anything,’ he said, ‘you just work. It isn’t very painful. Millions do it, so don’t ask me as though I’d been a convict or something.’

  ‘I wish my father did that,’ said George.

  ‘What’s he do, anyway?’

  ‘He’s a valet. He doesn’t do very much at all except look after James. The uncle you saw.’

  ‘Good luck to him,’ said Jos.

  ‘I think it’s degrading,’ said George.

  Jos smiled. ‘You’d make a good suburban housewife,’ he said. She flushed and he felt sorry. She was always making him feel apologetic.

  They didn’t talk any more and he had to think of somewhere to go. He made for the jazz club where he sometimes played, if he was lucky, when the resident double bass player was ill. Once he’d got in he felt scared in case George would make a fool of herself the way she had done at that party. She might do some sort of extravagant twist or something. But she seemed to have gone quiet and docile, perhaps sulking or maybe this was her martyred attitude. They danced. There wasn’t much room, so, except for a few couples on the fringe, no one was twisting, they were just moving round vaguely in time to the music. George was the same height as he was and she had an excellent sense of time. They danced well together and he was relieved that at least one thing wasn’t an ordeal.

  ‘You’re a good dancer,’ he said.

  ‘So I should be. I teach it.’

  He was surprised, and then felt guilty again because he’d never once asked what she did or even wondered.

  ‘What do you teach? Kids?’

  ‘Kids.’

  ‘Do you like it?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He felt irrationally pleased and automatically relaxed. They left the club and he took her for an Italian meal, then they went for a walk along the river, which was a habit of his. He didn’t bother asking her whether she wanted to or not. He did.

  They got home about two in the morning. Meredith wasn’t home.

  ‘I’m sorry Meredith isn’t back yet,’ said George as she brought him some coffee.

  ‘No one mentioned Meredith,’ he said. He noticed she was hanging his
coat up on a hanger. Eventually, she came and sat beside him.

  ‘Thank you for the evening.’

  ‘A pleasure, obviously.’

  He put the coffee down and, rather cruelly, turned her face towards his. It was painfully there what she wanted. He could almost hear her heart thudding and hormones racing. He felt amused, but didn’t dare smile. It was absolutely impossible not to tantalize her. He picked the coffee up again and watched her swallow hard. When he’d finished it, he got up and took it through into the kitchen, then came back and took his jacket off before he sat down again. He kissed her very lightly on the lips and nearly exploded at the violence of the tremor which swept through her. He put his arms round her and caressed her and she responded as though she’d been saving up for it since she was born.

  Jos felt weak and suddenly fed up. It wouldn’t take much effort to lay her and he would enjoy it. But God, the aftermath. He was a casual, easy going sort of bloke. He couldn’t take it, especially from someone he didn’t give a damn about. That was the snag – he did actually feel responsible for her. It was the danger signal. It was in his own interests not to be a bastard, just for half an hour’s enjoyment.

  Regretfully, because by now he felt quite amorous and it was a shame to have got her so worked up, he loosened his hold and sat up.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ he said.

  ‘Why?’ said George. ‘I like it. What are you stopping for?’

  He was silent.

  ‘I know I’m not pretty like Meredith,’ she said.

  ‘Oh Christ,’ he said, ‘that’s why – I can’t stand all this “I’m-so-humble” stuff. After we’d been to bed it would be one long whine.’

  She burst into tears and fled into the bedroom. He lit a cigarette and stayed where he was. Five minutes later she tore out again with her coat on, and he heard her running down the stairs and slamming the outside door. He sat there, feeling content because he’d done the right thing. When he was about to go, Meredith suddenly appeared. She showed no surprise at finding him there.

  ‘Had a good time?’ he said.

  ‘So-so.’

  ‘Didn’t lead to bed so can’t have been up to much, mate.’