Five Windows

by D. E. Stevenson

  “ Yes,” I said. “ Yes, you told me.”

  “ It’s like this, you see: I promised Beryl ages ago that I’d give a party for her birthday and—well—there you are! I can’t let her down, can I? She’d be so disappointed. I’m in the devil of a fix, that’s the truth.”

  “ Yes,” I said. “ Yes—of course.”

  “ I say, you are a good pal! ” he exclaimed. “ You’re one of the best. I’ll never forget this—never! I’ve been worrying myself silly over it.”

  “ How much would it be? ” I asked.

  “ Oh—say three quid. I’ll manage the rest.”

  “ Three pounds! ”

  “ We want to put up a good show, don’t we? I mean it’s Beryl’s birthday. I hate doing things on the cheap, don’t you? It’s horrible to do things on the cheap. I mean it would be better to call the whole thing off than to be mingy about it. I tell you what, David, we’ll call it a loan, shall we? My luck’s sure to turn and then I’ll pay you back. I must have it—honestly, old chap. I simply must have it.”

  “ All right,” I said. “ But we won’t call it a loan. It will be my share of the party.”

  Fortunately we had reached the parting of our ways so I was able to escape from his gratitude. It was all the more fortunate because I was annoyed and I could not be gracious about it. Three pounds for a party I did not want to go to! I was annoyed with Ned, but even more annoyed with myself for being such a fool. As for calling it a loan I knew Ned well enough by this time to be pretty certain that whatever we called it the money was gone for good.

  That afternoon I drew some money from my Post Office Savings account and after supper I went up to his room and gave him the three pounds.

  “ Hallo, what’s this! ” he exclaimed. “ Oh, of course … but why not keep it and share the bill? ”

  “ No, you take it,” I said. “ It’s your party.”

  This was not as generous as it sounds. I had a feeling that it was safer. I had a feeling that when the bill appeared Ned might say, “ Oh, look here we’re going shares in this, aren’t we, David? ” and my share might come to more than I had bargained for.

  Ned took the notes and put them in his pocket-book. “ You’re a good sport,” he said. “ But I don’t mind taking it because I know you’ll enjoy the party. It’s going to be no end of a beano. We’ve got two girls—friends of Beryl’s—and a chap called Harry Elder. He’s an absolutely tip-top fellow. As a matter of fact we were lucky to get him because he goes about all over the place—parties every night, that’s Harry’s form. Everyone knows Harry.”

  “ Splendid! ” I said. Somehow or other I felt quite certain I should not like Harry.

  “ It’ll do you good,” continued Ned. “ It’ll do us all good to have a real slap-up dinner. So long, David. See you tomorrow at seven-fifteen on the dot. I’ll pick up the others and then call here for you and Beryl.”

  I was ready at seven-fifteen but there was no sign of the party. At seven-thirty Beryl came down the stairs; she was wearing a bright scarlet dress which matched her lips and nails and she was carrying a scarlet hand-bag. Her fair hair was in wavy curls upon her shoulders. I could not help wondering what people in Haines would have thought if they could have seen Beryl in her war-paint … but Haines was far away. Here things were different. Beryl looked fine.

  “ Hallo, David! ” she exclaimed. “ Where are the others? Oh well, never mind. We’ve got the whole night before us, haven’t we? ”

  “ Ned said seven-fifteen.”

  “ Ned’s always late. It’s no good fussing, is it? ”

  We sat down on the little sofa in the parlour and waited. Beryl smoked and talked. Her eyes were shining with excitement and her cheeks were flushed.

  “ I love parties,” she declared. “ I wish we could have a party every night. That’s one reason why I’m so keen to be an actress; they’re always having parties, aren’t they? I’m going to an audition to-morrow. Perhaps this is going to be my chance—perhaps some day I shall be a great actress—a star! Will you come and see me, David? ”

  “ Yes, of course. I shall say ‘ That’s Beryl Collingham, I knew her before she was famous.’ ”

  Beryl laughed. “ You are sweet,” she said. “ Oh, David, I am so excited. It’s going to be a lovely party. Harry’s coming, you know.”

  “ Yes, Ned told me.”

  “ Harry’s an absolute scream. You’ll like Zilla too. Zilla is awfully good value at a party. She makes things hum.”

  “ There’s another girl, isn’t there? ”

  “ Joan,” said Beryl, nodding. “ Joan is all right. She isn’t quite so amusing of course but I had to ask her because I’ve known her for ages. It’s rotten to forget old friends—at least I think so. Besides Joan has lots of money. It’s useful, isn’t it? I mean it’s useful to have lots of money.”

  “ Yes, very useful,” I said.

  “ She gave me this hand-bag for my birthday. Wasn’t it sweet of her? ”

  “ Yes,” I said. I realised I should have got something to give Beryl, but I had not thought of it. I wondered whether Beryl knew I was helping to pay for the party. I could not say anything, of course.

  Beryl was showing me her bag when a car drove up and stopped at the door, announcing its arrival by prolonged blasts upon a Klaxon horn.

  “ That’s them! ” cried Beryl, leaping to her feet and rushing out of the room.

  I followed more slowly.

  In the car there were two girls, Ned and another man. Ned was driving.

  “ Come on! ” he cried. “ Don’t keep us waiting.”

  “ I like that! ” exclaimed Beryl. “ You’ve kept us waiting for hours.”

  “ It was Zilla’s fault! ”

  “ It was Harry’s fault. He was chatting to his girl-friend on the phone.”

  “ Which one—that’s what I’d like to know! ”

  “ The last but one—at least that’s what it sounded like to me! ”

  “ Ha, ha, that’s a good one! ”

  They were all talking at once, greeting one another, laughing gaily.

  “ This is David,” said Beryl. “ That’s Zilla and that’s Joan. Oh, and Harry, of course. I nearly forgot Harry.”

  “ Happy birthday to you! ” cried Harry. “ Lots of happy birthdays! I went to Tiffany’s this morning but they hadn’t anything worthy of you, Beryl dear, so I was obliged to fall back on Woolworth’s.”

  Zilla screamed with laughter. “ Isn’t Harry marvellous? ”

  We all got in. (The three girls in the back, Harry in front with Ned, myself perched somewhat precariously upon a tip-up seat.) Beryl was busy opening the parcels they had brought her and exclaiming rapturously over her presents.

  “ How sweet! Just what I wanted! You are dears! ”

  “ Not us,” said Ned. “ We’re stags, Harry and I. You should have heard Harry’s conversation on the phone.”

  “ It wasn’t Anne, was it? ” asked Beryl mischievously.

  “ How did you guess? ” inquired Harry. “ It was Anne all right—wanted me to take her to a picture.”

  “ You should have heard him! ” said Ned chuckling. “ ‘ Not to-night I’m afraid … terribly sorry, darling … no, it’s absolutely hopeless, my pet. No, dearest, I’m working. I’ve got a lot of work on hand and I must get it done to-night ’! ”

  “ Working! ” exclaimed Joan. “ Oh, Harry, what made you say that? Anne wouldn’t fall for that one. She knows you too well.”

  “ Rather too well,” admitted Harry. “ It was the only thing I could think of at the moment.”

  “ You’ll catch it! ” cried Zilla with a shrill scream of laughter. “ You’ll catch it, Harry. She’ll ring you up later and find you’ve gone out. That’s what I’d do.”

  “ Anne isn’t like you,” declared Harry. “ Anne has a beautiful soul.”

  They all laughed uproariously and went on laughing and talking and referring to mutual friends. I had a feeling that they were showi
ng off, leaving me out of the conversation deliberately, but perhaps they were not. Perhaps it was my fault for being out of harmony with them. I could do nothing about it for their jokes about Anne and their allusions to Jim and Thora meant nothing to me.

  Harry was the life and soul of the party; they were all trying to impress Harry, teasing him and drawing him out. Ned was playing stooge, currying favour with the hero. It reminded me of school and of the way fellows used to “ suck up ” to people in the rugger fifteen. The only difference was that at school people had hated it and Harry was in his element.

  “ Look out, Ned! ” cried Harry. “ You nearly ran over that old hag—not that it would have mattered. She’s a U.M. if ever there was one.”

  “ What’s a U.M.? ” asked Beryl.

  “ Useless mouth, of course,” said Ned.

  “ Unmarried mother,” suggested Joan.

  “ Now, now, girls! ” said Harry with mock solemnity. “ Keep it clean.”

  “ Ow! ” screeched Zilla. “ I bet Harry was thinking of something awful! I bet you were thinking of something awful, Harry.”

  I sat and listened. I tried to laugh when they laughed.

  Presently we arrived at a road-house, a huge building, garishly painted, with blazing lights in the windows.

  “ Here we are, chums! ” said Ned. “ This is the place where we eat. I’ll just park the car and then we’ll go in.”

  “ Drinks first,” said Harry, leading the way into the American Bar. “ Never eat before drinking, that’s my motto. Come on, you blighters, the drinks are on me. Who’s going to have what? ”

  “ They shake a very pretty cocktail here,” declared Ned. “ You’d like it, Harry.”

  “ I’ll try anything once,” said Harry, laughing.

  “ Is that another of your mottoes? ” asked Beryl.

  “ You bet it is,” he replied. “ I’ll try anything once. If it’s good I’ll keep on trying it.”

  The bar was hot and crowded. It was so noisy with chatter that its patrons had to shout to make themselves heard. Harry forced his way through the scrum and presently returned with a tray of small glasses containing a curious cloudy liquid.

  “ Here we are! ” he said. “ Six of them! Happy birthday to Beryl! ”

  We drank Beryl’s health. The cocktail had a pleasant velvety taste. I had expected something more fiery—there was no bite in this potation—but before I had finished the stuff I had changed my mind about it. Quite suddenly I began to feel slightly muzzy, the voices became louder and the floor seemed to be swaying a little beneath my feet. I remembered that I had had nothing to cat since lunch; so perhaps that was the reason.

  “ Have another,” Harry was saying. “ Another all round.”

  The others accepted with alacrity but I refused.

  “ What! ” cried Harry. “ Oh, come on. You need some ginger. It’ll cheer you up and make a man of you. It’ll loosen your tongue, old boy.”

  “ He hasn’t got a tongue! ” cried Zilla with one of her shrill screams.

  “ No thank you,” I said, trying to smile. “ I won’t have another—honestly, Harry.”

  “ Mother wouldn’t like it,” said Joan.

  This was considered a tremendous joke.

  “ It isn’t Mother at all,” said Beryl, giggling. “ It’s Father. Father’s a Covenanter, isn’t he, David? Father holds religious meetings and sings psalms. Mother plays the piano. Then suddenly in the middle of it the soldiers clatter up to the door and they all jump out of the window and hide in a cave.”

  “ Oh Beryl, you are a scream! ” cried Harry, laughing.

  “ It’s true,” she declared, opening her eyes very wide. “ David told me all about it.”

  I smiled and said, “ Beryl’s got it a bit wrong,” but I was angry all the same. She had persuaded me to talk about my home; I had told her about the old days when the Men of the Covenant were persecuted and hunted like hares amongst the Border hills. She had led me on to talk about the things I cared for and now she was using my confidence to amuse her friends.

  “ I haven’t got it wrong,” declared Beryl. “ You told me about the Covenanters. You know you did! You said they sang psalms and hid in caves. You said your father was one of them.”

  “ No, I didn’t. I said——”

  “ They must have been batty! ” exclaimed Harry. “ Nobody who wasn’t batty would live in a cave. No baths, I suppose? Or did they have hot and cold laid on? And what about the piano? Did they take that to the cave? ”

  “ Father carried it on his back,” suggested Ned.

  It was amazingly silly but there was something nasty about it too. There are different ways of making jokes.

  “ Were you born in a cave, David? ” asked Joan, giggling.

  “ Of course he was! ” cried Harry. “ He’s a cave-man. That’s why he’s so strong and fierce.”

  “ Yes,” I agreed. “ You’ve guessed it. I’m a cave-man.”

  “ Ow! ” screamed Zilla. “ Everything’s going round. I’m tiddly! You’d better give me something to eat.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  We moved into the dining-room and found the table which Ned had reserved. It was in a corner near the service-door where the waiters kept coming in and out with trays. I was thankful we were going to have dinner, not only because I was starving with hunger but also because I was beginning to be anxious about my companions. Zilla was not the only one who was suffering from the effects of too many cocktails.

  The dining-room was cool and pleasant after the crowded cocktail-bar; it was large and well-lighted and full of little tables. There was a quiet hum of voices in the air.

  “ This seems a good place,” said Harry, looking round.

  “ Not bad,” agreed Ned. “ I often come here when I want a decent meal. By the by I’ve ordered the dinner—hope everybody likes what I like—it saves a lot of bother if you order in advance.”

  “ You said there was a band! ” exclaimed Beryl in disappointed tones.

  “ No,” said Ned. “ No band——”

  “ But you said there was! ” Beryl declared. “ You said there was a tip-top. band. You know you did.”

  “ They used to have a band——” began Ned.

  “ No sir,” said the waiter, who had begun to serve the hors d’œuvres. “ We never had a band. Our patrons don’t like a lot of noise.”

  Poor Ned looked rather uncomfortable. He had pretended he had been here before and he had never been here before in his life.

  “ Never mind the band,” I said. “ Food is the main thing.”

  “ Food and drink,” agreed Harry. “ What are we going to drink? ”

  “ I’ve ordered white wine,” replied Ned.

  “ Not fizz! ” cried Zilla. “ Not fizz—to drink Beryl’s health! ”

  “ It’s hock,” explained Ned. “ Hock’s much nicer.”

  It was obvious nobody agreed with him.

  The wine was slightly fizzy and very sour. If it was hock, which I doubt, it was a very inferior brand of that noble wine. Fortunately—or perhaps unfortunately—the others seemed quite pleased with it; their glasses were filled and emptied and more bottles were ordered. Joan was the only one who seemed to share my aversion to the wine. “ I’d rather have water,” she said.

  We both had water. It amused the others a good deal.

  By contrast the dinner was excellent and I should have enjoyed it thoroughly if I could have eaten it in peace, but as time went on the behaviour of my companions was more and more uncontrolled. Zilla’s shrieks became louder and shriller and they all laughed inordinately at every silly joke. They rolled little balls of bread and flicked them across the table, a wine-glass was upset and its contents flooded the cloth and dripped on to the floor.

  The people at the other tables began to look round and stare in a disapproving manner. I did not blame them, but it was most embarrassing.

  “ Look here,” I said. “ We’ve finished now. Let’s go, shall
we? ”

  “ Go! ” cried Beryl. “ The party’s only just started.”

  “ It’s David’s bed-time,” suggested Harry. “ Father likes him to be in bed by ten.”

  Beryl gave a wild hoot of laughter and the others joined in.

  “ Let’s have coffee,” said Joan.

  “ Not for me,” declared Ned. “ I hate the stuff. We’ll have another bottle of hock instead.”

  Another bottle of “ hock ” was ordered and cigarettes were handed round. By this time they were all flushed and dishevelled and I wondered what would happen next. How on earth was I going to get them away? What could I do?

  “ I’ll tell you something funny,” said Zilla in blurred accents. “ I’ll tell you—something—damn’ funny. It’ll make you laugh.” She began to laugh herself, swaying backwards and forwards in her chair. “ I’ve forgotten it,” she screamed. “ I’ve forgotten—what it was—that’s damn’ funny, isn’t it? ”

  “ I don’t think thass funny,” said Ned. “ Beryl doesn’t think thass funny, do you, Beryl? I could tell mush funnier—story.”

  Beryl’s face was pale and her eyes were glassy. She said slowly and carefully, “ You’re tight, that’s what. This is my birthday and it’s a lousy party. I’ve been looking forward—to my birthday—for years and years—and it’s lousy. There’s no band.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks.

  “ I think so, too! ” shouted Zilla. “ I think shame as Beryl—no band! ”

  “ Harry,” I said. “ Let’s go. People are looking at us.”

  “ A cat may look at a king,” said Harry.

  It was at this moment that the waiter approached and tendered the bill.

  “ But we haven’t finished,” said Ned, waving it away.

  “ This table is required, sir. There’s another party waiting.”

  “ Put them somewhere else,” said Harry. “ There’s lots of empty tables.”

  “ I’m sorry, sir, but you must go,” said the waiter. “ If you don’t go I shall fetch the manager. People are complaining about you.”

  “ Complaining! ” exclaimed Harry. “ What d’you mean, complaining? We’ve got as much right to be here as them.”