Caught, Back, Concluding

by Henry Green

  What she went on to say was cut off from him by a roar of laughter. Looking along to Prudence he saw her mouth agape, her broad tender shoulders loose with laughter, her dark eyes lapped with melted ice. Pye was laughing gargantuanly into her face. His sly pig’s eyes assessed his chances, while, once he saw the Chief amused, across that table Piper slapped his own forehead, roaring.

  ‘What makes you split yourself, darling?’ Ilse called to Prudence, at which the yell of laughter abruptly stopped. Richard leant forward to listen, saw thirty pairs of eyes turned speculatively and dim on the Swede. He did not notice Hilly get up to slip into a vacant pew on his other side.

  ‘Hullo,’ she said.

  After he had shewn surprise and had partly explained how it came about that he had not noticed her, intending this as an apology for having seen so little of Hilly ever since war began, she whispered that he did not look to be getting on so very well with his foreign friend. He countered in a low voice, promising he was no friend of hers, and thus became a conspirator. ‘But,’ she said, ‘you asked her here, you know.’ He corrected this. He pointed out it was Mr Pye had asked him to invite the girls.

  ‘I heard all about that,’ she said, ‘you went to the flat, and then sent Peewee up.’

  ‘So is that what you girls call him?’

  ‘We think he’s sweet. But why did you send him?’

  He wondered if she had been drinking. He said:

  ‘I’m a married man, you know.’

  ‘That’s what makes it all the worse.’

  ‘Look,’ he said, laughing, ‘I know I sent your sweet Peewee up, but what about it? I didn’t stay, did I?’

  ‘You can’t fool me,’ she said. ‘Anyway I think they’re both very attractive. Which do you like the best?’

  ‘You can’t catch me,’ he answered, ‘they’re just two girls.’

  ‘No, really Richard, honestly it’s not good enough.’ She grinned at him, blue eyed as well as that other but fatter, the bloom, as he said to himself, of a thousand moist evenings in August on her soft skin and, on the inner side of her lips, where the rouge had worn off, opened figs wet on a wall.

  ‘You’re teasing,’ he said. She giggled.

  ‘I’m not,’ she whispered. ‘Oh you are stupid. I’d have thought someone like you who has thousands of girls would keep them to himself. Such a chance you see, next door to the station.’

  ‘No, they’re no use.’

  ‘But you thought they might be to our precious Peewee, and when we’ve been taking so much trouble.’

  ‘Of course, if you girls can’t hold Pye, I can’t do much for you.’

  ‘The dark one’s away with him now, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Don’t be silly,’ he said, smiling particularly. ‘Why with you about he wouldn’t want to look at anybody else, except at a party.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘No, I meant, of course, that as he’s in charge he’s more or less host, he has to take trouble.’

  She laughed outright. ‘You’re only making it worse,’ she said and suddenly, as perhaps he had been meant to, he intensely considered her. The thought came – had she gone to bed with Pye? The horror of this idea made him stammer slightly as he said:

  ‘Where have you been all this time?’

  ‘Here, same as you.’

  ‘When’s your leave day? Are you on the blue watch?’

  ‘Yes.’ She was no longer laughing.

  ‘Shall we go out and have an evening? You know, meet as we used after the station, have something to eat and go to a film.’

  She burst out laughing again. ‘No, Richard.’

  ‘Why, what do you mean?’

  She made herself serious to say, ‘You know what,’ she said.

  ‘You beast,’ he said.

  ‘Oh well,’ she corrected herself, ‘I might, you never know,’ and looked elsewhere. He felt he regarded her now as a real person, not just the girl for a drink when the evening’s training was done. By this time both of them had had a few drinks. Then another crash of laughter dragged his eyes away.

  Prudence was being a success. She liked firemen. When she first came to London five years ago, she put up at a hostel. In those days she did not know the number of men she knew now. One morning she was woken by the thud of leather top boots on stone stairs, by scrambling, by oaths. Soon after, she heard something rattle the brickwork up her chimney, smelled burning. Before she knew it was no more than a chimney fire, she was frightened but, when the other girls told her she stood at the door, an overcoat over her naked body. A fireman, blackened by soot and water, smiled brilliantly at her as he came downstairs. At that she decided she would give them all tea, went back into the room to fold her bed away into the wall, and abandoned this only when she came to realise that she had not enough tea, or a large enough kettle, for what she imagined must be at least twenty men. Still, she began to do her face at once. Then when she was ready to outstare them going downstairs, she found it was all over and that they had been gone some eighteen minutes. Ever since she’d had a soft spot for firemen. She felt it was hard on Richard that he was not next her now at this party. She felt firemen must be very brave, but particularly the professionals, which was where Pye had the advantage. They had those funny hats.

  But the jokes were getting rather free. Prudence had only meant to look in anyway. She got up to go. Piper protested above all the other voices, at their going. She was aware that the lights were impossible really for a girl. As Richard took them back through the dark appliance room, she said almost severely to him:

  ‘And don’t forget our flat, the windows look out over the door here and, if anything happened, you could see it and come back, what I’m trying to say is I know they’re awfully difficult about letting you get out but you could come along if you wanted to be quiet, we’re out most of the day aren’t we darling, I mean if your wife comes up to see you.’

  As he gave thanks Richard said to himself so that’s that, Pye has been with them after all, though he would never have told about Christopher, surely. This irritated him, and he was so bored with Ilse he was almost rude to her. She did not notice.

  As he came back to the party, he wondered if Pye would be arch. But he found a violent argument fully developed. It appeared that someone had referred to the newspaper report of a Regular’s sister who had been convicted of shop lifting. The Auxiliary who started this claimed they had brought the man up before his officers to be questioned. Pye asked, did the fireman’s sister live with him. The answer being yes, Pye gave as short an exposition as he was able of the view officers took when stolen goods were found in the house of a servant of the public, ‘that ’ad the right of entry into any place, anywhere, at any time, just as you lads has that same right given you now under the Defence Acts 1939.’

  ‘It’s a thing one can’t fathom,’ someone then said about that kind of theft, ‘but even those what don’t lack for nothing do it.’

  ‘You’re not telling me a fireman’s wage was an abundance even before the war. I ’ad to live on it for years.’

  ‘No, sub, nor ours now,’ for the Auxiliaries were getting fifteen shillings a week less than the Regulars. Another said, ‘Per’aps ’e kept ’er short, you know, stinted.’ ‘And when the rich get taken up they bring the doctor to say they’re sick.’ ‘Maybe she was driven to take what she took.’ ‘What, by greed?’ ‘If you’re starving . . .’ ‘There’s no one needs go’ungry in this country.’

  ‘I known a corporal in the army once,’ said Piper, ‘in me own regiment ’e was, out in India.’ As the main argument developed on every side, it grew so that several were speaking at one and the same time, but Richard could not help himself, he had to listen, as always, to Piper. The old man inevitably forgot the end of his own stories. ‘Yus, it was out in India, oh a long time back, I seem to remember it was in Oodi, no, come to think, now, it must ’ave been Parge. You’re sayin’ as ’ow it was a funny thing put me in mind . . .’

 
What Piper went on to say was obliterated by thick, angry voices shouting in the general discussion. ‘’E didn’t oughter . . .’ ‘I wouldn’t put nothin’ past ’em . . .’ ‘You’re telling me she didn’t . . .’ ‘Not on your life ’e ’ad no right . . .’ ‘She never did . . .’

  Once more the old man’s patient voice came through. ‘It’s strange, I can’t quite seem to recollect, that’s funny, it was something to do down in the bazaar.’

  Yet again the voices rose. Richard, as he could no longer hear Piper, watched his lips move and, almost at once, gently close, while a look of great sadness came over his drooping face. Then, as the noise died down, Richard saw Pye’s face stiffen as a sly Welshman said,

  ‘Why would they ’ave ’ad ’im on the mat up at the station?’

  ‘Did they do that then?’

  ‘They did so, up at Number Fifteen.’

  ‘Well,’ said Pye, a flush spreading over his forehead that the rest could put down to ale if they liked, but which Richard knew came from another cause, ‘as I tried to acquaint you before, if she lived with ’im and they got to ’ear what she had done, they would send for ’im. Most likely someone put the squeak in, told them, they’re too ignorant to read up there.’

  A roar of craven laughter greeted this, his smack at authority. ‘Oh listen to ’im,’ Piper cried. ‘You may laugh,’ Pye went on, ‘but ’e’ll tell you the same, ’e’s an old soldier. You’d ’ardly credit the ignorance of those that ’ave got promotion and will get no farther.’ ‘That’s right,’ said Piper. ‘They won’t tolerate even the smallest thing,’ Pye continued, ‘for fear they get asked about it. I could surprise you with things I know. That I know, mind you, as true as I’m sitting here. Is that the truth, Wal?’

  This man spoke for the first and last time. ‘It’s the God’s truth, mate,’ said he.

  ‘But they’re like that,’ Pye went on, ‘soon as ever you’re in the newspapers, or your family is, they want to know. “Now, fireman,” he mimicked, “what could have led you to suppose . . .” and all that tripe from a man you was with in the drill class fifteen year ago, who cussed and blinded with you then. Once they get the peaked cap,’ he said, forgetting his own promotion, ‘they turn, every one of them, bar one of course,’ he added, remembering, and getting a shout of laughter, ‘but then perhaps I haven’t had it long enough,’ taking exaggerated care with his aitches.

  Richard considered the awkwardness averted. Unfortunately no one else at that time, besides Piper, had heard of Christopher’s abduction. In consequence the Welshman did not know the swamp he was on when he asked,

  ‘Did they account his sister’s sin his own, then?’

  ‘What else would they do, mate, being as they are,’ Pye said, and choked.

  ‘It is the same where I come from. If my own sister stole his good cow from my neighbour in the next field, in Llannethry where I come from, I should get the bloody blame.’

  ‘And indeed to goodness they wouldn’t be far wrong mate,’ someone yelled, grinning at him, ‘a bob to a dollar you’d’ve put ’er up to it.’

  ‘God stone me blind in both my eyes, why should I do that when I can take my enamelled pail and milk her before he’s up, for he does not rise till late.’

  This brought the house down. The trestle was banged and purple faces, with gaping throats fringed by green gaps for teeth, turned to each other, bellowing. Piper gave himself up for lost, exaggerating his pleasure, for he had not properly heard. He gasped, ‘Oh mother.’ As the noise died a man, mirth strangled, said, ‘Would you bloody well credit it.’ Richard laughed with all his heart, thinking the danger past.

  ‘And if my sister had a bastard,’ this Welshman went on, but he was drunk, besides it was long ago that he had left Wales, ‘would these head officers put me bloody inside for it, the druids.’

  ‘They would that you ugly sod, you,’ one remarked and laughed, though not so freely. The man had gone too far. All listened to Pye when he spoke. He pronounced,

  ‘A man’s sister is sacred to ’im,’ and looked at Richard, then looked away, ‘who has been nursed at the same pap, and is ’is own flesh and blood.’ These were fine words, and, in the general assent, the moment was wild and free. ‘When I was a lad, me and my sister used to go out in the kingcups, soft of an evening after supper, and make gold chains we put about the other’s neck. They were better than pearls fine ladies wear that they most likely got by whoring. If his dad and mother’s own daughter takes a wrong turn, and it may be not by her own fault, but something in her circumstances, per’aps they could not buy the right grub to feed her, if she slips up and commits what the law of this land says is a felony, or a crime even, if they were men, lads, they would have him in, give ’im a hand, maybe assist him to send ’er to a place where she could be put right, not ask him what he had to do with it, same as it was he was the criminal.’

  At this Pye left dramatically, white faced. After three minutes all except Richard had forgotten him in baiting the Welshman.

  The door opened as Mary Howells was putting tea leaves into the warmed pot for a last cup before going to work. It was Brid. The baby was in her arms, carelessly held.

  Mrs Howells said, ‘Oh my Gawd.’ The expression about her mouth, lips pursed for the rite it was when she prepared a cup of you and me, altered to horror, lips opened wider at the shock yet still pouted weak like the discharge end of a large size in spouts. The daughter came right in. She put this sleeping babe down plumb centre of the one table, by its grandmother’s WAFS cap. Then, still saying nothing, she went back for her case, brought this through the door, and just stood, holding it with both hands in front of her knees.

  Mrs Howells, with shaking fingers, put down the china teapot covered with pink roses her sister, Aggie, had given as a wedding present; which had reflected Brid’s conception by that liquid rose flower light of a dying coal fire twenty-one years back; which now witnessed Brid’s return, deflowered, but married, and with the fruit, a child.

  ‘If I didn’t nearly drop the pot. Oh me girl . . .’ Mary began, then stopped. ‘But let you ’ave a fresh cup,’ she went on, and poured boiling water, ‘there now, it’s making. Why that won’t do,’ she cried and took three long black hatpins she still used on her uniform cap out of it, where the little innocent could not reach, ‘There my little sparrer, out of ’arm’s way even if you is asleep. Now, me girl, whatever would you be standin’ there for? Put the old case down, you’re at ’ome now,’ she said, ‘at last,’ she added with a theatrical grim meaning.

  The small room was breathless with curtains, knick-knacks, dark wallpaper and carpet. Every particle was clean but had gone dark from the years. Brid looked askew at her mother’s trousers. ‘Thanks mum,’ was all she said. She sat down to table. Mrs Howells had her mouth lemon open once more, this time to ask her fill of questions, when Brid was spared because baby woke up, began grizzling. Mary bustled. She let out on the child a flood of appeals and pleased threats which was all her urge, given in a thick, loving voice, to ask Brid why.

  There was snow outside. Two pools formed about Brid’s feet on the carpet, her that used to be so careful. The month was November. It was cold out. And meanwhile the substation was having its first fire.

  The bells went down without warning, the long ring for a real call. As Richard fumbled his boots on, half suffocating, elated, he noticed someone motionless, flat on his face. He learned afterwards this man had fainted in excitement.

  It seemed a long time before they drove out through the slush, but they were quite fast. In those early days taxis drew the pumps. Richard was upset that Chopper, who was in charge of the appliance, should ride standing on the step and not use the seat made for him next the driver. They careered along. They stopped. Pye’s appliance had drawn up in front. Pye and Chopper plunged through a peacefully open door. ‘It can’t be,’ Richard thought. But it was. He looked up. From a window came a blind of smoke, as though rolls of black-out material, caught in the wind, had
been unwound and been kept blowing about. Just like the smoke from one of their bonfires at home. He said to himself, ‘So it is, at last.’

  Regardless of what they had been taught, both crews dashed in.

  The staircarpet was white, and the walls. The banisters pink. He saw yellow curtains. He was out of breath. He found he had been shouting, ‘Where is it?’ Then, in the way two dolphins will breast a wave and curve, Chopper and Pye hurled themselves downstairs past these lads coming up. He had a flash of their two set, dead-white faces. The crews turned round. They followed them out, three stairs, black now, at a time, right to the next front door, also ready open.