by Len Levinson
“Well, every doctor is different, I suppose.”
“That’s true in a way, but in another way, all doctors are alike. But you’re very different.”
“I am?”
“Do you know who you remind me of?”
“Who?”
“John Garfield in one of those gangster movies where he’s trying to act nice to the girl.”
Mahoney felt a chill in his heart. She was getting wise to him. “Nobody’s ever said that to me before,” he said with a false jovial note in his voice.
“What is a cardiac sphincter?”
“A what?” he asked, starting to panic.
“A cardiac sphincter.”
Mahoney had no idea what that was, and knew the jig was up. He turned to her and said. “Listen, I’m not a doctor, but don’t call the MPs, okay? I’m just an old dogfaced soldier and I’m going into town for a few hours to have some fun, because they’re going to send me back to the front pretty soon, and you know, I might get killed out there.”
She looked at him, and her eyes went soft. “I won’t say anything,” she said.
“Thanks a lot. I really appreciate it.”
“You poor guy,” she said, placing her hand on his.
Mahoney stiffened his spine. “I’m not a poor guy,” he replied staunchly. “I won $1,800 tonight in a crap game in the latrine.”
She burst into laughter. “You didn’t!”
“Didn’t I?” He reached into his pocket, took out the roll, and showed it to her. “Look.”
Her eyes widened. “My goodness.”
“There’s nothing poor about me, lady.”
“I guess not.”
“Anyway, after I won it I decided to go into town and spend it, because I know they won’t let me take it to the front.”
“You’d probably lose it all in another crap game anyway.” She touched her forefinger to his sleeve. “Where’d you get the uniform?”
He shrugged. “I stole it.”
“You didn’t!”
“Yes, I did.”
“Where’d you steal it from?”
“I don’t know, some room in the hospital.”
She looked at his face more closely. “You’re really something, aren’t you?”
He winked. “So are you.”
“Who are you really?”
“Master Sergeant Clarence J. Mahoney, Twenty-Third Rangers.”
“Why were you in the hospital?”
“I got shot in the leg in France about a week ago. But I’m just about all better now.”
“So fast?”
“Well, it’s not a hundred percent better, but I can get around on it all right.”
“Doesn’t it hurt?”
“Not that much.”
She shook her head slowly. “You really are something. Aren’t you worried about getting caught?”
“What’s the point of worrying about it? If they’re going to get me, they’re going to get me. I’ll do my best to make sure they don’t get me, but if they do, so what? What can they do to me? They’ll bust me down again and maybe lock me up for a while. I don’t care about that. You know, I’m in the kind of outfit where I really can’t say for sure that I’ll be alive tomorrow morning, so I figure I might as well have my fun while I can.”
She thought about that, then nodded. “Yes, you have your fun, Sergeant Mahoney. Have as much fun as you can, because you deserve it I’m sure.”
She placed her hand on his and squeezed it for reassurance, then returned her hands to her lap. She was so pretty and nice that Mahoney realized he was falling in love with her, but he thought that she was a nice girl and he didn’t deserve her. He decided not to make any passes at her. When the bus stopped he’d just tip his hat and say good night like a gentleman. Then he’d go to Countess Lulu’s in Soho and fuck his brains out.
She turned to him. “What did you do before they drafted you?”
“They didn’t draft me,” he replied. “I’m Regular Army.”
“Oh? For how long?”
“A little over ten years.”
“Why’d you join the Army ten years ago? There wasn’t a war on then.”
“No, but there was a Depression, and I couldn’t get a job.”
“Oh.”
“You got a cigarette on you by any chance?” he asked.
“No, I don’t smoke.”
“That’s good. Don’t start. It’s bad for you. It cuts your wind.”
“Why don’t you quit smoking if you believe that?”
He chuckled. “I have to face things much worse than cigarettes, so cigarettes don’t seem so bad in comparison.”
“This damn war!” she said angrily, hitting her fist on her knee.
“It’s a hell of a thing, isn’t it?”
“It turns everybody’s life upside down.”
“It’s best not to think too far ahead. Just take it one day at a time. That’s the way I look at it.”
The bus began slowing down. Mahoney looked out the window and didn’t know where he was. There were tall buildings and bright lights, so he figured they were in downtown London.
“Is he gonna stop?” Mahoney asked.
“Yes,” Shirley replied. “We all get out here and take other buses to our respective destinations.”
“Where’s here?”
“This is Shaftsbury Avenue, very close to Piccadilly Circus. You don’t know London very well?”
“No.”
“There are a lot of nice pubs in this area.”
“Then I won’t have to go far, will I?”
“You certainly won’t.”
The bus stopped on a street corner, and everybody in it stood up. The driver opened the door and they all filed out. Shirley left before Mahoney, putting her umbrella up against the drizzle, and he stepped onto the sidewalk, looking at a row of stores closed down for the night.
The others walked in various directions, or stood close to the building and waited for another bus. Shirley stood on the sidewalk under her umbrella, holding it high in the air so Mahoney could get under it a little. A group of British sailors passed by, drunk and rowdy.
Shirley held out her hand. “Well, good night,” she said, looking into his eyes.
He squeezed her hand gently. “Yeah, good night,” he said with a smile. “Thanks for not calling the MPs.”
“You’re welcome. Good luck, Mahoney.”
“You too, kid.”
She looked down at the sidewalk and appeared uncomfortable. “It’s been very nice meeting you.”
“It’s been nice meeting you too.”
“You’re a helluva guy.”
“You’re a helluva girl, Shirley.”
She raised her face to him again, and he could see that her lips were trembling. A tear rolled down the corner of her eye, and a little cry escaped from her throat as she moved toward him. He took her in his arms, and she hugged him around the waist, her cheek coming to rest against his chest. They stood like that for a while, her umbrella dangling awkwardly behind him, and the drizzle falling on them.
Mahoney didn’t know what was going on. He held her close to him and closed his eyes, feeling her young, lithe body and the tremors passing through her. Then she let him loose and pushed her dovelike hands against his chest. Her face had become blotchy and she looked disconcerted.
“Well, goodbye,” she said nervously.
“Are you sure you wouldn’t like to have a drink with me?” he asked, almost hoping she’d say no, so he could depart for the whorehouse immediately, and also hoping that she’d say yes, because she was sweet and good and he liked her.
“No, I don’t think so,” she said.
“Come on,” he said, taking her arm and pulling her gently in a direction that he thought would lead to a pub.
“No . . . really ...” she said.
“I don’t think your boyfriend would mind,” he lied.
“Oh, yes he would,” she replied, standing under her umbrella
and looking like a proper nurse again. “He’s very jealous.”
Mahoney looked her up and down, and grinned. “I can see why. Let’s have a drink someplace, and stop worrying about your boyfriend so much. He’s there and you’re here. You don’t have to stop living just because he’s not around.”
She looked up into his eyes. “I wouldn’t want to get in your way, Mahoney.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I know that you want to go out and have some fun, and I’m afraid I won’t be very much fun for you.”
“Why not?”
“You know why not.”
“No, I don’t. Tell me.”
“Well,” she said, embarrassed, “you want to find some woman to sleep with I suppose, and that’s not going to be me.”
He chuckled. “You’re right, I’m not going to lie to you. But we’ve got time for a drink, what the hell.”
She smiled. “No, you’re just being polite.” She waved. “Go ahead and find yourself someone to sleep with. There’s supposed to be a very nice cathouse on Regent Street that all the soldiers go to. It’s called Countess Lulu’s.”
“I’ve heard of the place, but I’d like to have a drink with you first.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“Just one drink?” he asked.
“Aw Mahoney, you don’t have to.”
“I know I don’t have to, I want to. I like you.”
“I’m not going to change my mind and go to bed with you, Mahoney. I hope that’s not what you’re thinking.”
“Of course that’s not what I’m thinking.”
“You sure you really want to?”
“Yes, I really want to. What do I have to do, stand on my head to prove it to you?”
“Okay, I’ll have a drink with you,” she said, “but if you change your mind and want to go to Countess Lulu’s in a big rush, that’s all right. Just tell me and I’ll leave.”
“Where’s a nice place where I can take you?”
“The lounge of the Albemarle Hotel isn’t far away. A lot of the officers go there. They’ve even got a little dance floor and a band.”
“Sounds great. Let’s go.”
He took her arm and they walked over the rainy sidewalks of London. Streetlights made rippled lines on the wet pavement, and neon lights made splotches of red and green. They passed more groups of sailors and soldiers, and occasionally a serviceman walking with his arm around the shoulders of a woman. Mahoney’s practiced eyes told him that most of the women were prostitutes.
“It’s not much farther,” Shirley said.
“I could walk with you like this forever,” Mahoney replied.
She smiled. ‘That’s an awfully sweet thing to say, Mahoney.”
“It’s the truth.”
“It is not the truth. You can’t wait to get to Countess Lulu’s.”
“Sure I can.”
“You know, you’ve really turned out to be a big surprise, Mahoney. you appear to be a big tough guy, but you’re really very gentle and soft.”
“I am not soft!” Mahoney said vehemently.
She squeezed his arm. “I didn’t mean it in the sense that I thought you were weak. I just mean that you’re really a gentleman, although you don’t look like one.”
“I don’t look like a gentleman?”
“No.”
“Then what do I look like?”
She laughed. “Mahoney, when I saw you in that elevator I thought you were a gangster who somehow became a doctor and wound up in the army. Then when I saw your pajamas sticking out, you really provoked my curiosity. That’s why I sat beside you on the bus.”
“You didn’t think I was good-looking?” Mahoney asked, his vanity getting the better of him.
“You’re a very attractive man in a way. I’ll bet you have a lot of girlfriends.”
“I’m in the Army, Shirley. I live with a bunch of guys. There ain’t any women around.”
“Yes, but whenever you get into a town I’m sure you do all right.”
“Depends on how much money I have.”
“You’re awful,” she said.
“Why am I awful?”
“I don’t know. Maybe it’s me. Maybe there’s something about you that makes me want to be awful.”
Mahoney’s head lit up like a hundred watt bulb. “There is?”
“Don’t let your imagination run away with you, Mahoney.”
“Oh no, no. Of course not.”
“I’m just speaking abstractly.”
“Oh, sure.”
“There is something very attractive about you.”
Mahoney snorted. “What? The fact that I look like a gangster?”
“A lot of women are attracted to men who are big and tough like you, especially when they realize that you’re decent guys.”
“I’ll tell you something, Shirley, I’m not such a decent guy.”
“Sure you are.”
“I’m really not.”
“Well you’d better be as long as you’re with me.”
“You—you’re practically a nun. Who could be anything else but a decent guy with you?”
“You mean I’m like the girl next door?”
“That’s right.”
She snatched her arm away. “I don’t want to be the girl next door.”
“Well, that’s what you are. You might as well get used to it.”
‘That’s not what I am,” she said angrily. “I’m a woman.”
‘Then you’re the woman next door. The one who’s in love with the Navy pilot.”
‘That’s a little better,” she said, letting him take her arm again.
They turned the corner and saw the sign of the Albemarle Hotel. Army and Navy officers were gathered in front with nurses and civilian women, and some entered and left the front door of the hotel. A cab pulled up to the hotel and discharged an Air Corps pilot and a pretty blonde. Two drunken Army officers took their places in the cab, which then drove away.
Mahoney and Shirley entered the lobby of the hotel, crowded with officers and ladies, and Mahoney drank in everything with his eyes, for he was curious about how the other military half lived, and it appeared to be living pretty good. He held Shirley’s arm and they entered the lounge, which had a semicircular bar against one wall, a small dance floor in back, and tables in front. Brightly colored balloons clung to the ceiling, and the walls were wood-paneled. The lights were low and the head waiter walked toward them, twiddling his mustache.
“A table for two,” Mahoney said, reaching into his pocket.
“I’m sorry, sir, but the tables are all taken. I’m afraid you’ll have to stand at the bar.”
Mahoney looked at the bar and it was like Grand Central Station at five o’clock. He handed the headwaiter a twenty dollar bill. “A table for two.”
“I told you sir that ...”
Mahoney passed him another twenty. “A table for two.”
“I’ll see what I can do, sir.”
The headwaiter walked off into the crowd, and Mahoney looked at the drunken officers and their women attempting to dance on the floor in front of the five-piece orchestra and female vocalist who was warbling:
There’ll be bluebirds over the white cliffs of Dover tomorrow, just you wait and see . . .
Mahoney thought that Messerschmitt 109s would appear over the white cliffs of Dover before bluebirds showed up, but there was no harm in hoping.
“Penny for your thoughts,” she said.
“Oh, nothing.”
“You look so serious all of a sudden.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
The headwaiter returned. “I’ve found a little table for the both of you,” he said.
“I kind of thought you would,” Mahoney replied.
The headwaiter led them into the lounge, and Mahoney glanced at his watch. It was almost two o’clock in the morning, and he had to be back to the hospital before roll call at seven. He was certain that he coul
d get back in time and still do all that he wanted to do at Countess Lulu’s.
The table was against the left wall, and it was a tiny little thing with a candle in a red glass holder and an ashtray sitting in the middle. Mahoney and Shirley sat down, and a waitress showed up, dropping little doilies in front of each of them.
“What’ll you have?” she asked, fidgeting nervously.
Mahoney looked at Shirley. “Care for some champagne?”
“That’s much too expensive,” she replied, her Midwestern sense of frugality coming to the fore. “I’ll just have a whisky and soda.”
“Don’t you like champagne?”
“Of course I like champagne.”
Mahoney turned to the waitress. “A bottle of your best champagne, and two packages of Lucky Strikes if you’ve got them, and if you don’t have them, two packages of whatever cigarettes you have.”
The waitress disappeared into the clouds and smoke, and Mahoney looked around. “This is a real nice joint,” he said.
“I think it’s an abomination,” she replied. “It’s much too crowded and much too expensive, but there aren’t many places to go.”
“You should see where the enlisted men go. Those places make this one look like Sunday school.”
“Really?” she asked, perking up. “What happens?”
“Fights.”
“What else?”
“Basically just fights.”
“Have you ever been in a fight?”
“Are you kidding?” He touched his nose. “My nose is broken right here from a fight.”
“I thought it was a little crooked.”
The waitress returned with a bottle of champagne and two glasses, plus two packages of English cigarettes. She had no champagne bucket, uncorking the bottle and placing it on the table.
“Seven pounds, two shillings,” the waitress said in a cockney accent.
“Mahoney looked at Shirley. “How much is that in American money?”
Shirley brought her eyes to half mast and did some computations in her mind. “Give her twenty-five dollars and tell her to keep the change.”
Mahoney did so and the waitress appeared quite pleased as she walked away. He poured champagne into the two glasses and held his up in the air.
“To Countess Lulu,” he said.
“I’m not drinking to Countess Lulu,” Shirley snapped back.
“To Ike?”
“Okay.”
