The Fib, The Swap, The Trick and Other Stories

by George Layton

‘B-B-Boocock s-s-said he’d th-thump me if I didn’t invite them. You know w-what he’s like.’

  I do. It’s hard to stand up to Arthur Boocock.

  ‘Well, you could have invited me instead of Norbert.’

  ‘I w-w-would have d-done, honest, but he g-gave me ha-ha-half a crown.’

  Where would Norbert have got half a crown from? He’d probably nicked it.

  ‘Where did he get half a crown from?’

  Keith just shrugged again.

  ‘Probably n-n-nicked it. Anyway, I’ve n-n-never b-been to one of your b-b-birthday parties.’

  ‘That’s ’cos I don’t have one. You know I don’t, my mum can’t afford it.’

  My mum’s always asking if I’d like a little party at home but I want one like the others have, when you go out somewhere. Tony went to the zoo for his party. Duggie Bashforth had his at the transport museum and we all had tea there, that was one of the best. Geoff Gower’s birthday was in the Easter holidays and his mum and dad took a load of us to the fair. Mind you, they’ve got tons of money, Gower’s dad’s got a greengrocer’s. I never like to ask my mum for something like that though ’cos I know it would cost her too much money.

  ‘If I did have a party I wouldn’t invite you!’

  Keith just sniffed and shrugged and walked off. It’s all right for him, his mum and dad both work, they’ve got more money coming in.

  ‘Come along, boys, hurry yourselves, I’m sure Mrs Hopwood is waiting for you with lots of jellies and fairy cakes.’

  Everybody laughed and Reverend Dutton looked round the class.

  ‘That’s what birthday parties used to consist of when I was a lad. Potted-meat sandwiches, fairy cakes and jelly. Then we’d all play Pass the Parcel and Musical Chairs . . .’

  He looked a bit sad. I wasn’t sure but I think he had tears in his eyes.

  ‘And sometimes we’d play Blind Man’s Buff or Pin the Tail on the Donkey. Oh, happy times, we had such fun.’

  Boocock snorted and we all started giggling. Keith told him that his party was going to be nothing like that.

  ‘No, w-we’re havin’ f-f-fish ’n’ chips for tea, Reverend D-Dutton, and then w-we’re going to the p-p-pictures.’

  ‘Oh, lovely. Well, off you go, have a nice time.’

  He picked up his Bible and turned to the class.

  ‘We have to get back to David and Goliath, don’t we, boys?’

  Everybody groaned.

  ‘Now, where were we? Ah yes, Goliath yelled, “Choose a man from among you to come and fight me. If he can kill me the Philistines will be your servants. If I kill him all of you will become servants of the Philistines . . .”’

  Who cared about David and Goliath and the Philistines when you could be having fish and chips and then going to the pictures? I watched them all following Keith out into the corridor. Boocock turned at the door, grinned and gave us all a thumbs-up. Why hadn’t Keith invited me? I could understand him being scared of Boocock and Barraclough, but Norbert! Just ’cos he’d given him half a crown? I’m more his friend than Norbert is. Keith’s always coming round to my house for tea and stuff. And I’m always sticking up for him, specially when he’s being teased ’cos of his stutter. I never tease him like the others do. Like Norbert does. Norbert’s always taking him off, pretending to stammer like he does. And then Keith goes and invites him to his birthday party instead of me just ’cos he’d given him half a crown. I wouldn’t do that to him. I’d invite him to my birthday party. If I had one.

  Reverend Dutton was still going on about David and Goliath.

  ‘Now, boys, Goliath was this thundering giant of a man. He was over nine feet tall and everyone was terrified of him . . .’

  Yeah, like Arthur Boocock, we’re all terrified of him. Oh, roll on four o’clock . . .

  On my way home I had to collect the washing from the launderette. It’s in the block of shops near school and I have to take it there every Friday. It’s called a service wash, the woman there does it all. I drop it off in the morning on my way to school and then pick it up on my way home. It wasn’t so bad when it was just our stuff, I could manage to carry it, but now I have to take my Auntie Doreen’s as well. It was my mum’s idea after she’d been to that bring and buy sale at St Barnabas Church hall last year.

  ‘Look at that, Doreen, it only cost me a pound at the bring and buy sale. A pound!’

  There it was, standing in the middle of the kitchen.

  My Auntie Doreen and me looked at it and then at each other and we burst out laughing.

  ‘Well, it may have been cheap, Freda, but I’d say that’s a pound wasted. What on earth possessed you to buy a pram?’

  ‘You’re not having a baby are you, Mum?’

  She gave me one of her looks but I couldn’t stop laughing. I wouldn’t have been laughing so much if I’d known why she’d bought it.

  ‘This is for you, young man.’

  Me? What was she talking about? What would I be doing with a pram?

  ‘And for you, Doreen. There’s method in my madness. You’ll both thank me.’

  I didn’t know what she was on about. Neither did my Auntie Doreen.

  ‘Freda, what are you blathering on about? Why would either of us be interested in a pram?’

  My mum sat back in her chair and folded her arms. She nodded at me with this big smile on her face.

  ‘Every Friday he struggles to the launderette with our dirty washing, don’t you, love?’

  Oh no, I knew what was coming.

  ‘And every week, Doreen, you struggle to the launderette with your two bags of washing.’

  ‘Yes, on a Thursday, and it’s a real pain I can tell you.’

  ‘Not any more, it won’t be, Doreen.’

  She pointed to the pram.

  ‘No, Mum, I’m not wheeling a pram to school, it’s embarrassing.’

  My Auntie Doreen was telling her what a good idea it was.

  ‘I’m not doin’ it, Mum. I’m not wheeling the washing in a pram.’

  ‘Freda, that’s a wonderful idea. Why didn’t we think of something like that before?’

  ‘I’m not doin’ it, Mum, they’ll all laugh at me . . .’

  And they do. Every week. Boocock and Barraclough are the worst of course.

  ‘Have you changed its nappy?’

  ‘Is it a boy or a girl?’

  ‘What’s its name?’

  Once, when I first started taking the pram, they’d picked up one of the bundles and started throwing it to each other and the dirty washing had ended up all over the pavement. Pants, vests. My mum’s undies. All over the place. This lady had to help me collect it all up. It was awful.

  Norbert and Keith sometimes tease me as well.

  ‘Aw, l-l-look, Norbert, in’t it b-b-bonny . . .’

  ‘When are you havin’ another one? You don’t want an only baby, y’know, that’s what my mam always says . . .’

  Even Tony joined in once. He’d found this baby’s bottle in the street and put it on my desk when he’d got to school. He did say sorry afterwards.

  At the beginning I started leaving home late so that I wouldn’t bump into any of them. I’d run like mad, pushing the blooming pram all over the pavement, running round people, and sometimes I’d end up being late for assembly and get into trouble, so now I don’t care. If they see me and start saying things I just push the pram and ignore them. And most of the time they don’t bother. They’ve all got used to it. Just shows, if you make out to people that you’re not bothered by the things they say, they get bored and leave you alone.

  Thank goodness I don’t have to take the pram all the way to school, the woman at the launderette lets me leave it with her.

  When I got there on my way home from school the washing was all folded up ready for ironing and the woman had put it in the pram.

  ‘There you are, love, I’ve kept it all separate for you. That’s your mum’s stuff and that’s your auntie’s. See you next Friday, love.’ />
  She held the door open for me.

  ‘Ta.’

  I wheeled the pram out and started walking up the road. If I’ve got the money I usually get twopenceworth of chips from Pearson’s and eat them on my way home. I stopped, put the brake on the pram and started going through my pockets. Great, I found a couple of halfpennies, all I needed was one more penny. I was feeling in my inside blazer pocket when I saw them in the sit-down bit at the back of the shop. Boocock and Barraclough, Norbert, Tony and David Holdsworth. Keith was sitting between his mum and dad and Mr Hopwood was opening a big bottle of dandelion and burdock. I love dandelion and burdock. They were all laughing and eating lovely fish and chips. I wondered what they were going to see at the pictures. I found a penny in my inside pocket but I didn’t buy any chips, I set off for home. I hate Keith Hopwood.

  ‘Mum, you know it’s my birthday next Friday?’

  She was darning my socks. She looked up at me and smiled.

  ‘Yes, I do know that, I don’t think I’m likely to forget your birthday, love.’

  She ruffled my hair.

  ‘I can’t believe what a big lad you’re getting.’

  She gave me a hug and kissed me on my forehead.

  ‘I didn’t mean that, Mum, what I meant was, can I have a party?’

  She looked at me, surprised.

  ‘I asked you if you wanted a party, you said you weren’t bothered.’

  I wasn’t bothered then.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind.’

  I wasn’t really that bothered now. I just wanted to have a birthday party so I could tell Keith Hopwood he wasn’t invited. And not the kind of party I knew my mum would be thinking about. Mine was going to be different. Thanks to the lady in the fur coat I’d seen on my way home.

  I was pushing the pram along Skinner Lane when this big car went over a puddle as it was pulling up. I got water all over my socks and shoes. I was soaked.

  ‘Daddy, Daddy! It was the best birthday party ever, wasn’t it, Mummy?’

  I looked up and saw these girls coming out of the Rolarena. There were four of them and they were carrying roller skates and one of them was holding a balloon saying ‘Happy 7th Birthday’. The girl’s dad got out of the car, took the roller skates and opened the back door for them. They all got in, laughing and giggling, saying it was the best party ever. He opened the passenger door for the girl’s mum, then went round to the back of the car and put the roller skates in the boot. The lady was wearing a fur coat and she stood on the pavement to take it off before she got in.

  ‘The roller-skating was a huge success, Bernard, and the tea they laid on for the girls was first class, you couldn’t fault it.’

  As she was getting into the car I saw something drop out of one of the pockets of the coat. It was a piece of white paper. The man closed the boot and walked round the front to get in. Then I realised what it was she’d dropped.

  ‘S’cuse me, mister, this fell out of her coat.’

  I held it out for him. He came round, took it and tapped on the passenger-door window. The lady wound it down.

  ‘Darling, look what you dropped in the street – a five-pound note! This young man found it.’

  She looked ever so surprised and put her hand on her mouth. The girls in the back were singing happy birthday and laughing. The man had got his wallet out and was putting the five-pound note away.

  ‘It fell out of your coat pocket, missus, when you were getting in the car.’

  ‘Thank you, thank you so much.’

  ‘S’all right.’

  I went back to the pram and started wheeling it off.

  ‘Hang on a second.’

  It was the man calling me back. He still had his wallet in his hand.

  ‘This is for you. A little reward.’

  I went back. Little! It was a ten-shilling note. He was giving me a ten-shilling note.

  ‘Thank you. Thank you very much, mister.’

  He smiled.

  ‘My pleasure. Buy something for yourself and the baby.’

  I didn’t like to tell him it wasn’t a baby, just my mum and my Auntie Doreen’s washing.

  ‘I’ll get your Auntie Doreen to do you a cake, she’s a better baker than me. I’ll do potted-meat sandwiches, they always go down well.’

  No. I knew what I wanted to do for my birthday. And I couldn’t wait to see Keith Hopwood’s face when he found out what he’d be missing.

  ‘No, Mum, I want to have it at the Rolarena.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You can hire roller skates and they do a first-class tea.’

  She looked at me like I was mad.

  ‘The Rolarena?’

  ‘Just a few of us. Me, Tony, Norbert and David Holdsworth, that’s all.’

  ‘I’m sorry, love, I can’t afford anything like that.’

  I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

  1 can.

  And I showed her the ten-shilling note. She could hardly believe it when I told her how I’d got it.

  Next day we went to the Saturday-morning matinee, me, Norbert, Keith and Tony. Keith was excited ’cos he’d be going up on the stage and getting his ABC Minors birthday card from Uncle Derek.

  They were going on about Keith’s party, the lovely tea and what a good time they’d had at the pictures and how Mr Hopwood had bought them ice lollies and Butterkist. They’d been to see Ivanhoe with Robert Taylor. I love Robert Taylor, he’s one of my favourites, I was dying to see it. If Keith had invited me he’d have been coming to my roller-skating party. But not now.

  ‘It’s my birthday next week. I’m having a roller-skating party. At the Rolarena. And we’ll be havin’ our tea there.’

  Norbert looked like the lady in the fur coat did when she’d been told she’d dropped the five-pound note.

  ‘Roller-skating party! Oh, I’m comin’ to that. I hope. Am I? Can I come?’

  ‘’Course you can. There’s four of us goin’. You, Tony, me . . .’

  I looked at Keith.

  ‘And David Holdsworth . . . Sorry, Keith, my mum says I can ask no more than three.’

  I couldn’t stop myself from smiling.

  When I got home from the Saturday-morning matinee I couldn’t believe it. My mum was going on about the ten-shilling note. I couldn’t understand what she was talking about.

  ‘I know where you got it from, young man, you were never given it, you took it from my apron pocket, didn’t you?’

  ‘What?’

  What was she talking about?

  ‘I had a ten-shilling note in my apron pocket and it’s gone and you come home with some cock and bull story about being given ten shillings by a man outside the Rolarena. I know where you got it, you took it out of my apron.’

  This wasn’t fair.

  ‘I didn’t, Mum, honest! I was given it.’

  I had once taken a threepenny bit out of her apron, ages ago, when I was about nine, and I’d owned up afterwards. But I’d never take ten shillings.

  ‘I didn’t take it, Mum, honest.’

  She looked at me. I could feel myself going red.

  ‘Why are you going red?’

  I didn’t know why I was going red. I do that at school when we’re asked to own up about something. I go red even when I haven’t done it.

  ‘I don’t know, I can’t help it, but I didn’t take your ten shillings, honest.’

  ‘I don’t believe you, it’s all too convenient this story about a man giving you ten shillings and then suddenly there’s a ten-shilling note missing from my apron. You can forget about this roller-skating party now, that is not going to happen.’

  I couldn’t believe this. It just wasn’t fair.

  ‘But, Mum, I’ve already invited them.’

  She started putting on her coat.

  ‘Well, you’ll just have to un-invite them, won’t you? And don’t bother taking your windcheater off, you’re coming with me, you can carry my shopping.’

  I was holding two hea
vy carrier bags, waiting for her to come out of Gower’s greengrocer’s. It’s next to Pearson’s fish and chip shop and I saw two lads from my school coming out. I turned away, I didn’t want them to see that I’d been crying. She just wouldn’t believe that I hadn’t taken her money, even when I’d said cross my heart and hope to die. I was going to have to tell the others that I wasn’t having a roller-skating party now. And wouldn’t Keith Hopwood have a good laugh?

  My mum came out of the shop and started walking up the road.

  ‘I’ve just got to pick up a couple of things from the dry-cleaner’s and that’s it.’

  I followed her. I didn’t say anything more about the money, there was no point, she was never going to believe me. Then, after we’d gone past the launderette we heard someone calling out to my mum. It was the lady who does the service wash.

  ‘Ee, I’m glad I spotted you, love, I meant to give this to your lad yesterday . . .’

  She held out a ten-shilling note.

  ‘I’m not sure if it’s yours or your sister’s, it was in that pink blouse, in the breast pocket.’

  My mum looked at me.

  ‘Oh, love, I don’t know what to say, I’m ever so . . .’

  I felt sorry for her.

  ‘I was sure I’d put it in my apron pocket, I could have sworn I did. Oh, love, I do apologise.’

  She knelt down and put her arms round me.

  ‘We’ll go and book it now, we’ll go straight to the Rolarena . . .’

  Reverend Dutton looked at his watch.

  ‘Ah, half past three!’

  He looked over at me and smiled. I’d given him it the day before, the note from my mum asking if the ones going to my roller-skating party could leave half an hour early.

  ‘I think this is the moment the birthday boy has been waiting for, am I right?’

  I nodded.

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘Roller-skating party, eh?’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  I looked round the class.

  ‘My goodness, that’s very original.’

  Keith Hopwood was glowering at me.

  ‘In my day we used to have a little tea party then play games, Blind Man’s Buff, Musical Chairs . . .’

  We could hardly hear him ’cos of these fire engines outside, racing up the road, clanging their bells.

  ‘Sometimes we’d play Pass the Parcel. That was my favourite, I used to love Pass the Parcel . . .’