‘Did he?’ asked the girl politely.
‘Yeah really! They say to this day if you climb the stairs occasionally just after closing time you can sometimes see a death’s head wearing a pair of Wellington boots. I know it’s hard to believe but there it is.’
Jilly stared far above his head.
‘Too much bloody interference at this time of night,’ said Stuart back with the transistor. ‘You want Radio One?’
‘I don’t mind,’ she sang during a chorus.
Why the hell didn’t she go? Sitting there like Raquel Welch! Anyway if she did fancy him surely she’d want to kip up with him – at least for the night, Good God! Still he didn’t have to get up for work so who cared? But if she stayed out too late they’d lock her out and not open up without a steward’s inquiry. Get chucked out the house if Arrivederci Roma found her – or traces.
‘Want another cup of coffee?’
‘I don’t mind.’
‘Well yes or no?’
‘If you’re having one.’
‘I’m not having one but if you want one well just go ahead and say so eh?’
‘I’m not fussy.’
Jesus why didn’t she get up and go?
‘Plenty of books there if you want a read . . .?’ he gestured vaguely towards the side of the bed where a pile of paperbacks lay.
‘No thanks I’m not much of a reader.’
He poked a strip of newspaper through the grill of the gas fire and lit a cigarette.
‘Did you never smoke?’
‘Yes, quite heavily, but I gave it up last year.’
‘Good for you. I wish . . .’ He lacked the energy to finish the sentence.
‘There’s jobs going in the hospital for porters and storemen.’
‘Are there?’
‘Yes and they earn a good wage. The man you see is a Mr Harvey. They’re desperate for staff.’
Perhaps she only went out with him in an attempt to recruit him for the position of porter. Maybe she worked in Personnel. Office she had said.
‘What song’s that again? It’s nice.’
‘Ten Guitars. I’ve always liked that one,’ she replied. ‘It was only a B-side.’
‘Like the fast ones myself.’
‘You would!’
‘Eh?’
What was this? Note of encouragement? Hint perhaps, after all this time? What the hell was he supposed to do? Had no desire to play around tonight without going the whole road. Very bad on the nerves that. Anyway she didn’t have the brains to drop hints. Didn’t even have the brains to . . .
‘What was that?’ cried the girl.
‘What?’
‘That noise,’ she looked at the door.
‘Ssh, quietly,’ he whispered. ‘Might be the old one creeping about. Or maybe someone going to the lav. Don’t want her to find out.’
‘Oh!’ she replied, relieved.
‘You didn’t believe that death’s head twaddle did you?’
‘Of course not, I’m used to you by now!’
What did she mean by that? He stood up and walked past her to the cupboard, lifted the alarm clock down and wound it. After setting it back he stared at her shoulders as she gazed at the gas fire while humming to herself. Well had to do something; this was getting ridiculous. He stepped over to the chair and kissed the nape of her neck. She did not move. He unbuttoned her blouse down the back. She allowed it to slide off her shoulders and lie behind her on the chair; then she retrieved it and folding it, placed it neatly by the bed. Meanwhile he fumbled with the hooks on her bra.
‘What d’you think you’re playing at?’ she asked.
‘Taking off your clothes, but I’m stuck.’ Then he discovered the catch.
‘No, I’m not,’ he added.
‘Well I hope you’re enjoying yourself.’
But he had been this far before; once in the alley behind the hospital he had almost succeeded in taking her pants down! He let the bra remain hanging from her shoulders. Moving around to face her, he took both her hands and pulled her to her feet and kissed her. Still unsure but almost allowing himself to believe this was it, he hesitated. Jilly unzipped her skirt and stepping out from it crawled onto the bed and under the quilt. She unconcernedly stretched over and strung her bra over the chair.
‘Never seen one of these before,’ she said unaware of his incredulous stare.
‘Sa continental quilt!’ he answered at last.
Still rather dazed, he undressed down to his socks and pants, and walked across to switch off the light. She giggled.
‘What’s up?’
‘You in your socks and thin legs.’ She laughed again rather shrilly.
‘Lucky I’m not wearing Wellington boots!’ He grinned nervously, shrugged and marched forward.
Stuart had forgotten to change the set time of the clock and so it alarmed at ten o’clock as usual. Recognising the severity of the situation he jumped out of bed immediately and dressed rapidly. The landlady rose at dawn and would be well away cleaning by this time. Fortunately she would not come in: when he left the house in the morning he would leave the door open and she knew it was then safe to enter but if the door was closed she waited. He told Jilly to hurry. He could imagine the confrontation if the old one were to enter unannounced.
‘Come on Jilly,’ he urged.
She found her pants amongst the fankled sheets at the foot of the bed and quickly slipped them on. Attempting to pull on her tights she toppled onto the bed and giggled.
‘Ssh for God sake,’ he whispered. ‘The old one’s got ears like an elephant.’
Finally she was ready and he went out closing the door behind him. He looked upstairs and downstairs but no sign of her. Had to be out shopping! He was now standing in the hallway.
‘Quick!’ he roared up the two flights of stairs.
It made no difference how much noise they made now. He was not in the least worried about the other tenants. Perhaps there were no other tenants! Then the girl came clattering downstairs clutching her coat and bag.
‘Got everything?’ he asked.
She nodded unable to speak.
He opened the front door quietly and peered up the street. No one! Grabbing her by the hand he tugged her down the seven steps to the pavement. They strode down the street in the opposite direction to which the old woman always returned.
Shortly after midday he came back to the house. They had eaten breakfast then Jilly had gone into work, against his wishes. They had arranged to meet outside the hospital gates at 5.30 that evening.
He walked upstairs and into his room almost tripping over the suitcase.
‘Your goods all in there!’ said the landlady, suddenly materializing on the landing behind him.
‘What?’
‘I’m not silly!’ cried the old woman. ‘You had woman in my house last night. I pack in all your goods.’
‘No I didn’t! A woman!’
‘Come on don’t tell me. I know! I’m not silly!’ She advanced towards him.
‘Not me!’ he protested, backing away.
‘I tell Mr Pernacci no! No young man! But no, he say you’re nice boy. Steady!’ Her angular nose wrinkled in disgust. ‘This the way you treat us eh?’ she yelled.
Stuart could only shrug – after all she was eighty-eight.
‘And Mr Clark say he hear noises through the night.’
‘Did he?’ He could not restrain the broad grin appearing.
‘Aah now you laugh eh. Come on. On you go out. Out!’
‘Okay,’ he lifted the suitcase, ‘but I should get a rent rebate.’
‘Aah please. Not be cheeky with me.’
‘I’m not being cheeky. But it’s not very nice throwing someone out into the street like this, is it?’
He walked downstairs with the old lady following, clutching her skirts.
‘Don’t talk. Not very nice with woman in my house. Never before in many many years.’ She paused. ‘Think of your mother! No I think you
never do that.’
‘I’m a young man Mrs Pernacci you must expect it.’ He opened the door. ‘You won’t reconsider?’
‘No. Come on. Out you go. Can’t behave like this in people’s houses.’
Stuart sadly shook his head.
‘You must mend yourself,’ continued the landlady. ‘Now please go, Mr Pernacci be very angry with you.’
‘No he won’t!’
‘Yes yes, he will be.’ Her old eyes widened. ‘Now cheerio please.’
‘Cheerio!’ he called as the door slammed shut.
The rain fell steadily as he lugged the suitcase around the corner to his local. Jilly was surprised to see him carrying it when they met that evening.
New Business
Dougie stood up and said that it was time to go. Willie nodded and finished his beer before leaving. The union meetings were held in a small office, part of the district town hall, and although timed to begin at 7.30 prompt, seldom started before eight o’clock. They arrived at 8.10 to find the room deserted. A passing janitor informed them that someone had poked his head round about ten minutes ago and suggested that they take a seat and have a smoke if they wanted. Dougie laughed.
‘Told you,’ he said.
‘Well it was a warm day man and you can’t really blame them. We did have a couple ourselves.’
Dougie stared at him for a moment.
‘You’re off your head anyway,’ he said. ‘I mean you don’t really think they’ll discuss the Bill do you?’
‘We’ll see.’
The sounds of approaching voices accompanied by loud laughter were preceded into the room by an old man who walked slowly down the passageway and sat on a chair in the corner, in the second front row. Then the door opened and in came the Chairman and the Shop Steward of the branch, followed by assorted members of the committee and around a dozen ordinary union members. The committee men strode to the far end of the room and sat down behind the long table where the Shop Steward proceeded to lay out some sheets of paper and his tobacco tin. The ordinary members, now seated on the chairs on the other side of the table, were speaking amongst themselves. Dougie was discussing the day’s racing with the fellow in front when the Chairman called the meeting to order and apologised for the absence of the Secretary. Someone at the back loudly whispered something about Ibrox Park and the Chairman quickly retorted that he wasn’t far wrong there and laughed with the rest.
‘Anyway,’ he continued, ‘our good friend and scrutineer Brother Reilly has kindly offered to stand in. So, Gus!’
Gus MacDonald the Shop Steward passed some papers across to Brother Reilly, and remarked aside to the Chairman:
‘Couple of new faces tonight eh!’ He continued loudly, ‘Well Brothers if Brother Reilly reads us last month’s Minutes we’ll get it started eh?’
‘Aye well . . .’ began the Acting Secretary, adjusting his spectacles before beginning.
‘And so if there’s no objections I’ll sign for a True Record,’ said the Chairman when the Acting Secretary had read the last Minute.
‘Don’t see any,’ said Reilly, peering around the room.
‘Any Matters Arising?’ asked the Chairman as he signed.
‘What about this canteen business eh?’ cried a fellow sitting near the front.
‘No!’ replied the Chairman.
‘Not a Matter Arising,’ said the Acting Secretary.
‘What’s going to get done?’ continued the fellow.
The Chairman glanced across at the Shop Steward before answering. ‘Later Tam.’ He leaned over and whispered something to the Acting Secretary.
But the fellow persisted. ‘Well I hope so because . . .’
‘Tam!’ cried Brother Reilly, shaking his head in exasperation.
‘Okay,’ interrupted the Shop Steward, darting a look at the Chairman. ‘I got on to the manager about that Tam and he said there’s nothing he can do. Said it was Head Office’s decision and he’d take it to them, but as I told you last month they’re only allowed to put on two dinners and all Head Office’ll say is there’s no demand.’
‘No demand!’ echoed Tam, amazed. ‘No demand! Christ there’s plenty! Plenty uses the bloody place; and we never get a choice. Bloody terrible!’
‘Aye I know Tam.’ The Shop Steward gestured vaguely about the table.
‘You know? Christ every day of the week stew or mince. Bloody stew or mince all the time Gus! Bloody ridiculous! Surely they can give us a better choice than that?’
‘Well that’s what I told the manager and he . . .’
‘Aye you’re right Tam, it’s a disgrace,’ called another man.
‘Aye and you’d be cheaper eating in a bloody restaurant,’ cried someone in the front row.
‘Aye you’re right there!’ agreed another.
‘Order!’ demanded the Chairman. ‘A minute! One at a time eh?’
‘Well the manager . . .’ began the Shop Steward.
‘Fuck the manager – bloody mince – every day of the week since . . .’
‘Bar Friday Tam, eh?’ cried a voice from the back.
‘Aye a bit of scabby fish. Bloody out of order.’ Tam sat back, arms folded and shoulders erect.
‘Well . . .’ tried Brother MacDonald.
‘Christ!’ Tam looked somewhere over the heads of the committee.
‘Okay! Order!’ called the Chairman. ‘We’ve done all this last month, Brother Smith and Gus says the manager’s getting on to Head Office about it so we’ll just have to wait and see the score. Okay?’
Tam muttered something to his neighbour.
‘Okay?’ repeated the Chairman.
Tam shrugged.
‘Right,’ continued the Chairman. ‘Anything else?’
‘Aye Brother,’ grunted the old man who sat in the corner in the second front row. ‘What about the paper?’
‘Yes,’ replied the Chairman, amid laughter, ‘Correspondence Sammy, Correspondence.’
‘In a minute Sammy, okay?’ said the Shop Steward.
‘Aye well.’ The old timer rocked back and forth, nodding to himself.
‘Right then Brothers if that’s the lot . . .’ The Chairman looked around but on seeing no more queries, continued. ‘Okay then. Brother MacDonald’ll read us the Correspondence.’
‘Well Brothers, not much tonight.’ He withdrew a few envelopes from his briefcase and began reading the contents aloud. No one interrupted this time. On opening the last letter he paused and glancing across at the old man, said with mock severity: ‘Concerning toilet paper.’
A few amused looks and one or two quips greeted the reading of this letter. It confirmed that in future an adequate supply of toilet paper (soft) would be provided, subject to the Shop Steward’s request on behalf of the branch members.
‘Okay Sammy?’ asked the Shop Steward.
‘Aye Brother. They better!’ added the old man darkly.
‘People are always knocking his Daily Record,’ whispered Dougie, ‘and using it to wipe their arse.’
Willie smiled without replying.
‘We had two delegates over to see our Brothers in Kilmarnock last week,’ the Chairman cleared his throat, ‘about their pay claim and . . . Brother Reilly!’
‘Aye me and Boabbie went to see them at their meeting. They’re looking for 15% and they’ll get it Lindsay says. He thinks they should’ve went for twenty.’
‘Hum,’ muttered the Chairman, then whispered something to MacDonald.
‘And that’s it more or less. Oh Sammy, Brother Lindsay was asking for you. Said to tell you him and Etty would be through to see how you’re doing.’
‘Aye Brother.’
‘How much we asking anyway?’ called a man from the back.
‘Fifteen Charlie,’ answered Brother Reilly.
‘That’s New Business,’ interjected the Chairman.
‘What we’re waiting for.’ Dougie spoke out the corner of his mouth.
Willie nodded.
‘Oh another
thing,’ Reilly went on, ‘You want to see their facilities through there – snooker and table tennis and that. You want to see it! They run handicap competitions all the time and Lindsay says some of the staff goes in for them too.’
‘Aye we’ve had a few talks on this subject before Brothers,’ said the Chairman.
‘Aye,’ agreed the Shop Steward. ‘Remember the last one?’
‘Not likely to forget,’ said some men, grinning in appreciation.
‘Anyway if that’s it Brother?’
‘Aye, just thought I’d mention it,’ replied the Acting Secretary.
‘No harm done,’ said the Chairman. ‘Right Brothers. New Business.’
‘The pay claim!’ shouted Tam. ‘What about asking for twenty?’
‘No point Brother,’ answered the Shop Steward. ‘We’ve no chance of getting fifteen as it is.’
‘If Kilmarnock gets it – we better!’ remarked someone.
‘We’re already getting more than them. The management are just bringing them up to our level.’
‘Our level?’
‘Well,’ grinned MacDonald, ‘not quite Brother; but no too far away.’
‘I move we put in for twenty!’ declared Tam, rising to his feet.
‘Jesus Christ!’ muttered the Chairman.
‘Tam there’s no chance. Waste of bloody time!’ cried the Shop Steward.
‘Well fifteen . . .’ Tam paused. ‘We ask for twenty we’ll definitely get fifteen.’
The Chairman struck a match and relit his long-dead pipe. He spoke quietly to the Acting Secretary, seemingly without any interest in the current discussion.
‘Anybody second that motion?’ asked the Shop Steward hopelessly, after a moment.
‘Aye me!’ said Tam’s neighbour, rising and standing shoulder to elbow with his tall friend.
MacDonald hesitated.
‘Brothers,’ said the Chairman at last, ‘this has been gone into very carefully. We are asking fifteen and that’s that. Waste of time asking more. Let’s wait and see what happens through at Kilmarnock first eh?’
A few of the members nodded their agreement.
‘Think you should withdraw the motion,’ stated the Chairman after a short pause.
‘Aye,’ agreed Tam’s neighbour without hesitation.
An Old Pub Near the Angel Page 8
