House Mother Normal

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House Mother Normal Page 6

by B. S. Johnson


  him three hundred for the whole consignment, and

  somehow when I got it it was only a consignment

  for which I would have paid one-eighty, if that,

  two hundred at the most. His

  name was Flannery or Chinnery or something like

  that, a sharp one he was, he could swindle you

  so’s you had no way of getting back at him, offices

  he called it – Yes?

  More careful still?

  My hands, this arthritis, Ivy, I’m being as

  careful as I can, really I am. Not very

  interested, anyway, balls to it, nothing makes

  the pain any better, don’t make one any better

  concentrating on the other, aaaaaaaaah!

  Yes, I know what she’s like when she’s crossed.

  Yes, Ivy, I’ll try. Don’t want to cross House

  Mother.

  Then there was that

  sneaky little sod who also had one of the railway

  arches down there behind the Broadway, he could

  drop you in the fertilizer too if you weren’t very

  careful, though with him you could see it coming

  and you could watch out for it. And never deal

  with him unless you had to. The best way was to

  play safe and sell before you had bought. Make

  sure you had a sale before you paid for whatever

  it was. Even then you could get caught sometimes,

  find yourself aaaaaaaaah!

  Not again, I could do with a better cushion than

  this, she ought to provide an air cushion for

  people in my condition, I’ve even seen people take

  them on buses, if they were in this painful con-

  dition, what can I do, only ask, and I’m afraid to

  do that.

  More glue

  Mrs Bowen, can you pass me

  your glue, please? This one’s finished.

  Thanks very much, Mrs Bowen.

  Yes, all right now.

  There may be others

  like me. I hope so. I hope

  not, on the other hand. I

  would not wish it on

  them.

  Finish,

  finish now. Didn’t do much to take my mind

  off of it. A little. A very little.

  Still, it’s something. A little something.

  She’s all right,

  that Ivy. A good sort. Finish this last

  one, nice and tidy.

  Yes, here it is, Ivy. They’re nice and tidy

  today, aren’t they, Ivy?

  Try again. They’re better today, Ivy?

  No proper answer,

  Well, I think they’re better than yesterday’s.

  And considering all the circumstances, too. Let

  them complain. That’s it, until they complain

  then I don’t care.

  Ivy and that Mrs Ridge are always having a go

  at each other. Stupid bastards, the pair of them.

  We’re the best, we are.

  That’s all right, then, that’s a relief. Forgot

  my arse for just two minutes

  aaaaaaaaah!

  Pass the Parcel! What a

  waste of time, more movement, but

  Pass the parcel, up my arcel!

  oooooooooooooh! My arse again, keep still,

  keep still A fart would be a

  blessing Daren’t.

  Ooooooh, no! The pain, pain!

  Pass the parcel.

  Chuck the bleeding thing.

  But what’s in it? Sarah’s getting it open. Now

  it’s off again.

  Curiosity.

  It’s my turn, that old woman’s cheating! Pass it on!

  No need to chuck it at me! It’s stopped,

  it’s me, I can get it undone, I’ll win, what is it?

  SHIT! It’s a parcel of shit! Is that

  what I’ve won? Is that all? Stinking shit!

  shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit

  shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit shit

  shit!

  why?

  Get up,

  she wants us to take exercise. Take up thy

  arse and walk? I’ll try,

  the pain can’t be worse

  aaaaaaachk! Yes it can!

  But try again.

  To walk. The pleasure of it. As

  I stroll along the promenade. It must be a tidy

  middling. The trouble

  with business is that you can think you’re doing

  so well and then you get caught for a tidy

  packet. Right into the middling, right into the

  fertilizer. It may be something to do

  with the way I walk, of course. That may have

  something to do with it.

  Haemorrhoids or piles:

  just as though you could

  choose! aaaeh!

  I shall try again to remember my first fuck.

  The first is the one you never forget, they say.

  They are not right in my case, not for the first

  time, either. Yet I remember it was when I was

  seventeen, because that was what I said when

  questioned about it some time later. But who it

  was is difficult to remember. Who did I

  know at seventeen? It must have been someone from

  the town, I would not have been stupid enough to

  shit on my own village doorstep, as we say in the

  trade. In that case, it might have – No, I can’t

  walk any more, I must sit and be damned to her

  and her dog.

  If that seed had borne fruit, I should have a child

  of over sixty now. It might have been a son, a

  competitor. Tom was never a competitor, none of

  them. I was their father, and I saw I remained so,

  oh yes!

  Who could it have been? My memory’s playing me up

  again, so she was redhaired, ginger-eyed and had

  a pair of tits on her like twin mountains and an

  arse as broad as East Anglia. Her fanny was like

  a red ravine, dry and dusty, not so dusty.

  Her face?

  I can’t remember her face.

  Ah, yes,

  that was fun last time, the tourney. I enjoyed

  it. Wonder if I can get a bet on this time? Mrs

  Bowen won easily, I’ll back her. Mrs Ridge,

  I’ll bet you my breakfast milk that Mrs Bowen wins.

  But what will you give me if I win?

  Right, you’re on. Shake.

  Now I’ve got a bet on.

  They’re at the tapes!

  Come on Mrs Bowen! Lot depends on Charlie pushing,

  too. They’re

  off!

  Hooray! One up to me!

  They're off

  again! Come on Charlie!

  Rah! Two up!I shall win!

  They’re off! Last time, I must

  win two-to-one at least!

  Rah!

  Cheers for Mrs Bowen and Charlie! You owe me a feel,

  Mrs Ridge, a feel, tonight!

  She gets it both ways, she does. If she’d’ve

  won she’d’ve got my breakfast milk, as it is she

  gets a feel she’ll enjoy just as much as I will,

  more, probably, with my arse in this state. That’s

  funny, forgot it during the tourney. Just goes

  to show, just goes to show.

  But it’s getting worse now, it’s

  paying me back, aaaaoooh!

  oooooooooh! aaOOh!

  No, try to think of something to take my mind off

  it, the feel, that’s something to look forward to,

  ooooooooh, but it’s no help now,

  what shall I do?

  Started when I

&
nbsp; was fifty-two, it’s a

  punishment for tossing off

  that little boy when I was

  in the Navy, it’s a

  punishment, be sure your sins

  will find you out.

  He asked for it, he was a saucy little sod, and I

  paid him a few piastres.

  aaaaooaoaoah!

  aaaaaah!

  oooooh!

  oooaaaeh!

  eaeaell!

  oooooooh, oooh, aaaah!

  eh!

  ooooooooch!

  oooooooooooeoeososoaoeo!

  aaaaajjja!

  we never did think we’d live to see him grow

  up! I’ll force myself to think of something else.

  we never did to see

  think we never did

  we’d live

  a few piastres seemed

  so little at the time, for what

  it was

  years after, that smell

  City of galloping

  knobrot

  oooooh!

  oooooooaoah!

  this can’t go on surely

  something must bust it must give the pain over

  it must make me bust oooooooooh!

  ooooooorh!

  one two three four one two three four sheep over

  the edge one three six ten fuck them all oooooo

  nothing comes

  of it, nothing seems to

  help, you’d think they would

  be able to do something

  for you, people have been

  suffering from sore arse-

  holes since time began.

  no, ooooooh!

  ooooooooooooh!

  Regular, it

  comes in waves.

  oooooooooooooooooooooh!

  ooooooough!

  oooodh!

  OOOOOOOH!

  Listen to her!

  No, doesn’t matter

  Gloria Ridge

  age 85

  marital status not known

  sight 45%

  hearing 55%

  touch 30%

  taste 20%

  smell 60%

  movement 45%

  CQ count 6

  pathology contractures; plantar fasciitis; mental confusion; progressive senile dementia; cholecystitis; osteoporosis; among others.

  . . . me and then get this down me and

  then I’ll be all right

  spuds and mashed and with knees

  try hard peas, peas, peas

  shovel peas in, more then I’ll be all right

  more?

  more

  general sold his cockerel

  the meat is good, more meat, that’s

  the thing, must eat to get right, get this down me and then

  I’ll be all right, that’s it, ask for more meat. More meat?

  He’s not going to eat his, no, I’ll have his, must eat, how he

  can leave it I don’t know, here Oh! twitcher!

  no . . . eee! my hands,

  the backs of my hands! Hurts not for long, I’ve

  got over worse, I’m the toughest.

  They said it was just a craze,

  wanting to eat, it would never catch on, la la la!

  Catchy.

  I always did believe

  in ruining your own work, it was one of my fondest beliefs,

  if you do that then you don’t have to beholden to somebody,

  do you?

  Scrape the plate, the mash off, mash off corners

  Swinging on

  ropes, nothing much on, just something round his

  unmentionables, as we

  used to call them, into all that mucky water and crawlies,

  out in the bare colds or rocks was it,

  only a picture after all.

  Another one I saw had Charlie Chimpanzee

  in it, when I was that high. Then we had Gilbert

  Harding being rude, we enjoyed it! Diving into the

  crawlies and the water all covered by scrum, those jungle

  creepers! How we used to laugh!

  She ought to show us films here,

  though some would abuse the privilege, they never do.

  It would never do

  da-da, ma-ma

  Brisket and taters, brisket, brisket

  atrisket, my love bisquit, brown bread and waistcoat,

  crumbs to his watch-piece.

  My name’s Gloria, Glory

  for short. It’s too far this time. May I never?

  My true love went once round fingering, blue hair he

  had with his long black eyes, four foot three

  in his bloomers, I remember him so clearly, it was in

  a pub we first met, I was with my mates at the time, he

  was with his. Yellow jumper and pale skirt

  This for two or more I was with him,

  standing in the dark. Milk stout was all our tipple, then.

  He was my first, it was raining at the time.

  She’s in trouble this time, not me, House Mother’ll hit

  her, not me, this time

  No, she’s

  not, that’s not fair, she’s only getting a tonguelashing,

  not the twitcher, it’s not fair not fair!

  me

  me me me meeee mememememememememe! say it aloud

  ME! The twitcher, lucky

  she didn’t hear, lucky me!

  A gallon of gin I must have

  drunk last night, this won’t do, where’s the money

  coming from? It doesn’t get him anywhere.

  I must cut down on the food, supporters and suspenders,

  it won’t do, I won’t have his drinking though

  I’ll have his drink been, no twat you'll be,

  What matters most is what we’ll be

  The joys of life continue strong

  Throughout old age, however long.

  . . . MOST IMPORTANT THING TO DO

  IS STAY ALIVE AND SEE IT THROUGH

  NO MATTER IF THE FUTURE’S DIM

  JUST KEEP STRAIGHT ON AND TRUST IN HIM

  FOR HE KNOWS BEST AND BRINGS GOOD BEER

  OH LUCKY US THAT WE ARE HERE!

  THE MOST IMPORTANT THING TO DO

  IS STAY ALIVE AND SEE IT THROUGH!

  Now she ought to be

  pleased with me, no twitcher, no one can sing louder

  than I can, not even that fat slob Ivy, cow.

  Work! The people must

  work if they are to earn their daily bread! Life

  is not all butter, someone has to earn the guns as

  well, ha ha!

  What’s she

  giving them two to do? I could do it, whatever it is.

  Here! Twitcher! The twitcher!

  It’s not only that, there are tripes and lazy

  breeders for supper, summer in a sauce made of milk

  and parsley.

  I think, I think!

  Careful,

  I’m always careful, never let them stick it up me

  without a rubber on, very careful all my life,

  never had no kids, never! Very careful,

  very clever, that’s me.

  I can do that easy,

  that crinkly paper’s not very good for it though,

  not very good at it. Nasty work,

  only fit for the Ivys. Nothing, nothing, nothing.

  Nothing! Not my box, hate this

  work, nothing here, who makes me?

  Don’t want this work. Don’t want this work! Or

  this Ivy, cow she is, slummocky old cow.

  Slummocky old shit cow! That annoyed

  her, that’ll teach her to order me about, I’m

  not here to be ordered about! Except

  by the twitcher, that’s all that keeps me quiet,

  the only thing.

  I’ll just sit here, that’s what I’ll do, just sit

  here, and only work if I feel like it
. Start one,

  roll the paper round the roller, here, this isn’t

  as easy, roller roller penny a paint, painy a

  pent, old cow, I’ll roller, red paper, red paint,

  red roller roller roller.

  And just leave it like that. Then anyone who

  sees me will think I’ve just broken off for a

  moment. Oh, I’m clever, you know, I

  know all the dodges, I learned them, all the

  dodgers, when I was working, you learn all the

  dodgers to work as little as

  This way I won’t have to touch

  the horrible glue, no, not even to touch it.

  The twitcher’s

  gone up the stage with her, the twitcher has, bye

  bye the twitcher, good riddance twitcher! If

  I just sit here and keep quiet and do nothing

  then she won’t come down here again with the

  twitcher for me, the twitcher for me, If

  ye’re no a garlic, the twitcher’s for me.

  If possible keep on going where they

  are all like Mind you, if I was her I

  would not put up with any of it, any of it, myself

  It pays to keep up with your payments. Sometimes

  we wouldn’t. They were all away. The girls had

  it away. No one played at home, then.

  She’s going to team up with those two! Now they

  won’t talk to me. It’s not fair. Yesterday she

  did it, too. She deliberately doesn’t ask me. I’m

  sure of that. I can do this as well as anyone,

  round the roller, the glue. I could be part of the

  team. It hurts.

  Where are they all gone? I had them here, all of

  them. And now they’re not here. It may

  be my true love, my one true love. His hair was

  golden, his eyes were blue, he stood six feet two

  in his bare socks, the first one. My one true.

  One two, dozens since then. He bumped into me

  coming out of the four ale bar into the corridor,

  there I was scrubbing near the milk stout. I was

  a young girl then. He was my first. Swept me

  off my feet. Swept my chimney, he called it, my

  black chimney. What could I say? It was a

  frosty morning. Frost clears away the flu and does

  good for England. Everything’s in a mess

  That time they let me play. Let the piccaninny join

  in! that Bobbie yelled. I enjoyed it more than my

  tapioca.

  What would you say if I

 

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