by Ted Lewis
Eh up, I say, Give over a minute.
The one who had just punched me looks at my hand.
Jesus Christ, he says. The bastard’s bleeding to death.
They all stand still.
I have put my hand on a broken bottle. I can’t feel any pain but I am bleeding badly. I stand looking at it.
Now you can give him it, Terry.
No, pack it in, Tone, says the one that punched my head. It might be trouble for us. Let’s clear off.
Yeah, let’s clear off. Quick.
Bloody hell, I say. Look at it.
They start moving away. Terry walks past me holding his nose and holding back frustrated tears. He suddenly goes for me, but the one who suggested they clear off grabs him and holds him off.
Come on Terry. Come on. Don’t be a prick.
I’ll kill the bastard. I’ll kill him.
Come on Terry. You want coppers dropping on you, do you? He’s bleeding.
They disappear. I see my top hat lying on the pavement. I pick it up and put it over my hand. I walk up the steps and sit down between the two columns with my back to the main doors. I can hear the band sounding miles away inside the building.
Where’s Janet? I say. Where’s Janet. Where’s Janet. Where’s Janet.
Suddenly I can’t stand it any longer. I open the small door set in one of the big ones and stagger inside. I can’t seem to hear anything very well. Everything seems far away. Where is she?
Rudge is at the ticket table.
Are you all right? he asks. I expect you’ve been round the back and I’ll have it to clean up tomorrow.
He doesn’t notice my hand. I still have my hat over it. I am holding the hat so that no blood drips out of it.
Seen Janet?
Seen who?
Have you?
I stagger past him and up the stairs and into one of the architect’s studios which is being used as the buffet. I stand in the doorway, swaying. I feel the hat slip off my hand. I don’t care. I can’t see Janet. Some people near the door turn and look at me and a girl gasps loudly. I turn and begin running down the wide stone stairs very quickly and I am almost overbalancing forwards as I run I am too close to the wall and my arm catches the frame of a print which has been lent by the V. and A. museum. It begins to fall from the wall. I catch another one and the first picture hits the stone steps in an explosion of glass and begins following me in my flight down the stairs. The second picture crashes to the stone and cartwheels on its edge past me. At the bottom of the stairs, the Mayor and his wife, and the Sheriff and the Sheriff’s lady and the Principal of the College and the head of the Painting Department are about to enter the Hall to judge the fancy dress competition, but something above them on the stairs appears to have attracted their attention. The small door in the main doors into the college opens and Janet and Jenny and Alex and Keith and Tony come in wearing their top-coats. They all stop and look at me. I finally gain too much on myself and I fall down the remaining few steps onto the marble floor. I can hear the picture that was following me down the steps come to rest somewhere nearby. The cool tiles feel nice against my face. I can hear Don announcing the next number.
“And now fellers and lassies we’re gonna play ‘Nobody Knows You When You’re Down and Out.’”
I smile to myself. Everybody knows me when I’m down and out I think. Then that’s all.
We walked along Allen byroad. Jerry Coward and Janet supported me on either side. My hand was hurting and the night was bitterly cold. Snow was starting to fall in the empty streets. We were on our way to the Infirmary.
My mind was working in a stream of consciousness, in a way trying to atone for what had gone before. I was talking to Janet. Jerry’s presence in no way acted as a censor.
“I didn’t know where you were. I’d no idea. You weren’t there and it was my fault and I thought you’d gone off with Tony or someone, I don’t know. And then Angela said you were outside—”
“I’d only gone to the Wimpy Bar for a coffee with Keith and the others. I didn’t know what to think. You looked at me as though you hated me.”
“I know, I know. I don’t know what got into me. I just seemed to go crazy for a while, and then Angela said you were outside and made it seem as though, you know . . . and said everybody knew that you thought you were too good for me...”
“God, that girl...”
“I know and anyway then I went outside and there were these Teds and this Terry...”
“Do you hurt very much Vic?”
“Well... I’m beginning to feel it.”
“It’s not much farther,” said Jerry.
“Yeah, right Jerry. I’ll be all right. I’ll be all right.”
“I didn’t know what to do,” said Janet. “Your expression was so ugly. I went over to Keith. I like Keith. He’s practically the only one I talk to in my year and so I told him. I asked him what I should do.”
“What did he say?”
“He likes you, you know. He really does. He told me I just had to leave you alone for a while, and you would be all right. I didn’t want to but he said I’d come back after I’d had a coffee and you’d be all right. So I went. I didn’t want to. But you had no need to worry.”
“I know now. I was stupid. I was, the way I was to you. I just thought that you wouldn’t want anything to do with me.”
The snow swirled around us. Although I hurt the feeling of her there and close to me obliterated everything else.
Snowflakes settled in our hair as we walked. The lights of the infirmary shone dimly through the quiet darkness.
“Here we arc Victor, mate,” said Jerry.
We went up the steps into the Infirmary. Janet waited outside in the reception hall while Jerry sat next to me and clinically watched the casualty nurse put nine stitches in my hand.
The first thing I remembered on coming round after falling down in front of the assembled company was sitting on a canvas chair and Jerry’s voice saying:
“He’s all right. Bugger off everybody. He’ll be all right.”
I opened my eyes. Curious Stetson and feather-decorated heads bobbed round above me. I looked at my hand. It had some material round it and another hand on top of it. The hand was Janet’s. She was sitting on a canvas chair next to me. I closed my eyes again.
“Right. He’s awake now,” said Rudge’s voice. “Now get the bleeder out of here.”
“Shut up,” said Janet in a flat voice.
“Get him out before the principal comes back and before I murder him.”
I opened my eyes.
“Yeah, all right, Rudge, all right. Give us a minute, will you?” said Jerry.
“You, you long haired piece of—”
“Throw him downstairs, Jerry,” shouted someone at the back. “Like you do at Steam Packet.”
Jerry ignored Rudge and the voice.
“Come on, Vic. Let’s get you to the Infirmary. That hand’s bad.”
I opened my eyes. Jerry’s face was close to mine.
“He’s going to get the lot when he comes back next term. I’ll tell ‘em. The bleeder’ll get chucked out, you’ll see.”
“Shut your mouth, Rudgie.”
“You’ll get it, too. You’ll get it, too.”
Jerry straightened up and turned round to face Rudge in one quick movement. Jerry was thin but he was tall, about six foot. Rudge jumped slightly and moved himself a little farther away from Jerry. Somebody cheered. Jerry turned back to me and coaxed me out of my seat. My dull mind co-operated with every movement that Jerry’s arms suggested. He and Janet supported me between them and guided me over to the door. None of the scene reacted on my mind. My eyes saw things but my brain could not interpret them.
“Don’t br
ing him back,” shouted Rudge. “We don’t want bleeders like him in here.”
We had trouble getting through the small inset door. I couldn’t get my feet over the bottom edge.
Rudge walked quickly over to us. The crowd of onlookers stood behind him, watching every movement.
“Go on, get him out. Get him out of here.” He started bundling us through the door. Jerry began to step back through onto Rudge’s side.
“No, Jerry. No, don’t,” said Janet.
Jerry paused for a moment, undecided. Then he turned back, his face a mask of straining self-control.
“Come on. Let’s get him to the Infirmary.”
Jerry watched the nurse put the stitches in.
“What happened, Jerry,” I asked. “I mean, how did the Big-Wigs react?”
“How do you expect? The principal’s face was pretty black. Old Gordon seemed pretty amused though. I don’t know, they all sort of stood there looking at you and the principal said to Rudge, cold as a fish, “See to him”, then they all carried on into the hall and judged the fancy dress.”
“What do you reckon will happen? I mean do you think I’ll get chucked out?”
“Naw. You were only drunk.”
“What about the pictures?”
“They were all right. You’d only smashed the glass. They were our frames anyway.”
“Yes, I know, but Rudge may have known what he was talking about.”
“Naw. He was drunk himself. He was only blowing off for something to do. You know what he’s like.”
“Yeah. Still.”
“Don’t worry. You’ll be all right.”
“You’d better kip down at my place,” said Jerry. “It’s too far for you to go home.”
“Rose won’t mind, will she?”
Jerry laughed. “Not unless you try and tom her. No, you can sleep on the settee. It’s pretty big as you know and we’ve plenty of spare blankets and an eiderdown. It’ll sleep two comfortably.”
“Two?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you mean?”
“What the hell are you talking about? You and Janet. You’ll have plenty of room.”
“But she’s staying at Jenny’s. Besides, I mean, you’ll think I’m crackers, but, well, she’s not like that.”
“Don’t be bloody silly. They’re all like that, sooner or later. Hell, you’ve been going out with her, what, nearly three months?”
“I know, but honestly, Jerry, she wouldn’t, and anyway...”
I wanted to tell him I respected her and I didn’t want to sleep with her. But I couldn’t.
“Besides,” said Jerry, “how can she stay with Jenny, if Jenny isn’t here?”
Janet was sitting on a chair in the reception hall. She got up and walked toward us as soon as we came through the door. I held up my bandaged hand and smiled ruefully.
“How do you feel now? Does your hand feel any better?”
“Yes, thanks. Much. Except I feel very, very tired.”
She slipped an arm through mine. We went out into the night.
The snow was falling heavier than ever. Already a thin carpet of it was beginning to take on the road and on the pavements.
We found ourselves walking in the direction of Jerry’s place.
“Janet, what about Jenny?”
“Well, I can’t really stay with her now, can I with her not being here?”
“No, I know, but your mother—”
“I want to be with you, Vic. You look ill.”
“But you’ll get into trouble.”
“No, I won’t. My mother won’t know. I’ll ring Jenny first thing in the morning and explain.”
“I just want you to know—”
“What do you want me to know, Vic?”
“Nothing. Just—thanks.”
We tramped on through the snow --- Jerry on one arm, Janet on the other. Everywhere was as still as a cathedral. No sound could be heard but the whining of the wind and the soft crunch of our shoes in the thin snow. I was numb to everything: the events of the evening, my hand, the cold. All I could think was I’m tired; I am very tired.
Jerry’s pregnant wife put the blankets, a pillow and an eiderdown in a neat pile on the settee.
“You should be all right. There’s coal in the scuttle if the fire dies down. I’m off to bed now. See you in the daylight.”
“Thanks very much, Rose. Thanks a lot.”
Rose went out.
Janet made a bed up out of the blankets and the eiderdown. I watched her from the armchair near the fire. When she had finished, she looked round her, saw nothing else for her to do, and sat down on the edge of the settee.
“Janet, I hope you don’t think ... I mean like the others. I mean, nothing’ll happen.”
Concentration was a great effort for me. My mind weighed a ton and my eyelids even more. In the soft light from the table lamp, Janet looked lovelier than ever. She didn’t answer, but looked into the fire burning brightly in the grate. I let my head fall against the back of the armchair. I felt no sense of remorse, no sense of guilt, no sense of apprehension about the events of the evening, just this great purging lethargy, happily numbing. I closed my eyes. I heard the table lamp click off. I felt Janet’s presence crossing the floor from the settee to the armchair. She sat down on the arm of the chair. I heard her arm rest itself on the back of the chair just above my head. Her hand began to stroke my forehead, slowly and softly. My right hand reached out a little until her other hand found it. Our fingers intertwined, gently exploring each other’s warm and sensitive skin. The minutes passed as slowly as any minutes which had ever passed before. I could hear the fire burbling and spluttering to itself and the silence outside being sometimes stirred by the snowy wind. I felt her breath regularly and gently disturbing the hair on the top of my head. I felt closer to her than I ever had done before. More minutes passed. We thought our thoughts and the fire began to die a little.
“I’m tired,” I said. “I’m really tired.”
A piece of burnt-out coal slid to the front of the grate.
“Yes, so am I. I think I’m going to get into the bed.”
She waited for a moment and then got up from the arm of the chair. I stayed where I was, not opening my eyes. I heard her slip out of her shoes. Then for a moment there was no sound until I heard her take off her dress. Then I heard her pull back the covers and get into the make-shift bed. I opened my eyes and got up from the chair and undressed down to my vest and pants. I went over to the settee. I knelt down by its side. Janet looked at me. I took her hand and rested my head against it. I stayed like that for a few minutes and then I pulled back the covers and got in.
We lay together, facing each other, parts of our separate bodies touching, trembling slightly underneath the non-committal control. We held hands, both hands, the hands resting against my chest. Her head moved slightly on the pillow. My knee shifted slightly and touched hers. I kissed her. We moved closer and I put my arms round her. It was a moment I had never thought would be possible. We must have fallen asleep a few minutes later because we woke up in the same position the next morning.
The next morning. I felt Janet get out of the bed. She went out of the room and I heard her telephoning in the hall. I looked at my watch. It was ten past nine. She came back into the room.
“What are we going to do?” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“My mother. What can we say?”
She just stood there, looking out of the window.
“What’s the matter?”
She turned to me. She looked frightened.
“My mother. I just rang Jenny. My mother telephoned her about twenty minutes ago. Jenny tried to cover up but finally she had to admit I wasn’t ther
e.”
“My God. Did she tell her where you were?”
“She didn’t know.”
“Why did she ring up?”
“She wanted me to go home earlier than I’d arranged. She wanted us to go shopping together.”
“Hell. What are we going to do?”
“I’ll have to phone her. I can’t do anything else.”
“Thank God you didn’t ring her first. What are you going to tell her?”
“I don’t know. The truth, I suppose.”
“You can’t tell her that. She’d never let you see me again.”
“Nothing happened.”
“She won’t believe that. Will she?”
“No.”
“Well.”
“I’ll tell her—I’ll say that you were hurt and that we had to take you home to your place because you were so bad, and I lost Jenny and that Jerry and his wife offered to put me up. How’s that?”
“I don’t know. She’s bound to think you’ve been with me. But I suppose we’ll have to chance it.”
“I’ll go and telephone now.”
She went slowly out of the room.
Bloody hell, I thought. Then the events of the previous evening reminded me of the extra feelings of doom that were intent on making me a nervous wreck.
Janet came back into the room.
“What did she say?”
“I began explaining and she said, ‘Where are you’ and I told her the address and she said, ‘I’ll be there in a quarter of an hour’ and put the phone down.”
“Oh no. What about me? She’ll know I’m here.”
“I don’t know. She sounded furious.”
“I’ll have to hide somewhere. Bloody hell, she’ll be here any minute.”
I got out of bed and dashed through into Jerry’s room. He was alone in bed.
“Where’s Rose?”
“At work. What’s up?”
“Oh hell. Look, Janet’s mother’s on her way down.”
Jerry laughed.
“Hell though,” he said.
“You’ll have to meet her. You’ll have to explain.”
“What about you?”