The Last Girl

by Penelope Evans

  The point I want to get across is, I might not actually have said anything at the time, but I had my doubts, I did really. Look at the people she was being forced to mix with for a start, up at that college of hers. Her seeming to be so nice herself only made it ten times worse. Bad always wants to go after good. It's the way of the world.

  That's why I didn't worry about the fact she never brought folk back here. I just liked to think she was choosy. Added to which it was a relief, not having the house deluged by strangers, never knowing what they might be carrying away with them in their pockets. Thinking about it now though, I reckon 'choosy' didn't come into it. The girl is as poor as a church mouse, and you need money for friends.

  Of course once or twice she's tried to make out that it hasn't always been like that, going on about some pal of hers up in Edinburgh, as if the whole place was queuing up to know her. To tell the truth, though, I couldn't bring myself to show that much interest. She was talking about people hundreds of miles away, and besides, she had me, didn't she. There wasn't any call for anybody else. No, it was present influences I was losing sleep about at nights.

  And I was right, wasn't I? There's influences everywhere, even in this house.

  I'd better start at the beginning. Go back a week, to just after the time I talked about everything in the garden being rosy. We were up here as usual, settling down for a good old chat before bed. It all started off normally enough. I'd been sorting through some drawers earlier on and come across an old photograph I didn't even know I still had. You can more or less imagine what I'd done with the rest. Anyway, it's there in front of her when she sits down, and sure enough, she picks it up.

  'What's this, Larry?' she says. 'Are you here?'

  'Mandy love,' I say, all surprised. 'You weren't meant to see that. But since you ask, it's me all right. Me and a few others. Go on, see if you can guess which one?'

  She's got about ten to choose from, all of us in uniform, so it takes a little time. Finally she points.

  'That one,' she says.

  And that was my Mandy for you. Spot on. Fifty years and she still knows her old Larry. A couple of seconds pass and then she says, 'Good grief, Larry. You were quite handsome.'

  'That's what they used to say, love. But only look where it got me. A little bit less of the handsome, and maybe there wouldn't have been so much of the Doreen. Know what I mean?'

  Well she doesn't answer, because already she's staring at the rest of the picture. Not much of an attention span, has our Mandy sometimes. 'What about the rest of them, Larry? What happened to them?'

  'All dead, love,' I said. Well, it was simpler that way. Otherwise she'd have wanted all their life stories, and look at the time that would have taken. But the effect is exactly what you'd hope and expect.

  'Oh Larry, I'm sorry. How terrible for you. Where did it happen - North Africa?'

  Well hardly. It's the sand that's got her confused. That was taken on Bridlington beach, and we were the catering corps. The war ended before we ever got posted. But there's no time to say a word about this because a certain young lady is still talking.

  'All so young, Larry. Were they very good friends?'

  'Best friends a chap ever had, love.'

  Actually, Harry's there if you look close enough. But she's not to know that. The thing is, what should happen next but she reaches forward and touches my hand, just like that.

  And that really did take me by surprise. I was still trying to think of something polite that wouldn't have offended, when all of a sudden comes the Voice from Below, to ruin everything.

  'Amanda! Telephone!'

  Telephone! Would you believe it, I'd forgotten all about warning the old kid that the last thing she should be doing was telling people to ring her here. Ethel would really go mad with her now. But again it was no good. The girl had vanished before I could open my mouth.

  This time though, I decided to keep calm. She was gone now, but she was going to hear it from me straight the moment she got back. Then I remembered: the last time she went to answer a phone call, I didn't see hide nor hair of her for days after - and nearly made myself ill fretting about it.

  Well, this time, it was going to be different. I decided to do what I should have done before if I'd had the sense, namely, to follow her downstairs and wait for her in the hall. That way, when she'd finished getting herself into trouble with Ethel, I'd be right there to keep her company back up the stairs. Then we could have that cup of tea I'd been on the very point of offering her. And most important, I could tell her all she needs to know about Ethel and telephones.

  So that's what I did. I left my nice warm lounge and lumbered all the way downstairs just so as to stand sentry by the hall table. That's friendship for you; hundreds I could mention would have felt one blast of that draught blowing in through the front door and been back up those stairs like a shot. You could hardly blame me for hoping she wouldn't take all night about it, though. Quite apart from the draught there was Ethel, like there always is. If she came out while Mandy was still on the phone, there would have been all sorts of questions. Quite simply, there is no limit to the woman's nosiness.

  It was only natural then that I'd be anxious to keep an eye on what was going on at the end of the passage leading to the kitchen, not knowing if it was Mandy who was going to appear any second, or Ethel. And that's when I noticed that the door was open, that I could see straight in. That was unusual for a start. Ethel guards her kitchen like Fort Knox, only just now she wasn't there. She must have carried on into the scullery beyond, leaving Mandy to let in all the cold air -which would be something else they'd be chalking up against her. Of Mandy I couldn't see a thing. The Ducks keep their phone up on the wall behind the door, and that's where she was now, murmuring away on the other side, apparently not short of something to say for once. The one person I could see, and see all too well, was Gilbert, sitting next to the fire, facing me. In normal circumstances he would have seen me too, eyesight or no eyesight, but not today, for the simple reason that he was making a great show of reading. It was laughable really; he had his book held right up in front of his nose - Tales of the South China Sea - but the only wonder was that he'd remembered to keep it the right way up. See, he didn't fool me for a second. What he was really doing was listening, getting an earful of every blessed word.

  So there you are. The poor girl couldn't even have a phone call to herself without one or the other of the Ducks having their pennyworth. Which was bad enough when you think about it. It's just that it wasn't a tenth as bad as what happened next.

  I heard the phone go 'ping', meaning that she must have finished at last, and sure enough, a second later she appears from behind the door. The surprising thing was, she was beaming all over her face, which was hardly what you would have expected from someone who had just been forced to share a private conversation with some nosy old goat under a tartan blanket. Nor would you have expected her to waste any time getting out before Ethel popped up to call her to account. Yet the silly girl did no more than go straight over to Gilbert and stand there for a good minute smiling and chatting away as if he was her favourite uncle. He loved it of course. You could see the old buffoon just lapping it up. And it was that, I reckon - I mean her being so pleasant - that must have given him ideas. Because just as she was turning to go (and another minute and I would have been in to drag her out myself) the book he was holding suddenly slid off his lap and to the floor. It landed at her feet, far too conveniently to have been an accident, and like a flash, Mandy, being the girl she is, was bending to pick it up.

  And that's when it happened. The thing I'm talking about. He goosed her.

  Blink, and you'd have missed it, it was that fast. One second he's sitting propped up with cushions on all sides and a blanket on top, and the next he's there with his hand right up her skirt. If I say I was shocked beyond words, you'll understand, but the effect on Mandy was almost too painful to describe. Her head shot up from where she was bent over th
e book with the result that she must have been looking straight at me, yet she was too flabbergasted to notice a thing. All I could see was her face as it was then, mouth shaped into a perfect '0' and two bright red cheeks flaming up like matches on either side. Just for that one second I was certain she was going to scream, faint, shout, do something that would bring Ethel scurrying in from whatever she was up to in the scullery, and with it the world down upon her head.

  I knew then I had to warn her, tell her not to do it, let her know that if she made a sound, Ethel would have her out on the street so fast she wouldn't even have time to pack. But somehow or other, the words wouldn't come. The shock was too great.

  Then suddenly, there was no need. Mandy closed her mouth, snap! just like that. She stood up straight and handed the book to Gilbert, as politely as you please and yet without so much as a word or a look. Then slowly she turned her back on him and walked towards the door - and me. For my part, I'd already backed off so as not to be seen by Gilbert, was standing flat up against the wall in the gloom. But that could hardly explain how she could have walked straight past me, and yet not said a word. The fact was, she didn't even see me. And why not? Because she was too busy laughing, laughing so much, and at the same time, trying so hard to keep it quiet that the whole of her body was shaking with it and tears were forcing themselves down her cheeks. She laughed all the way up the passage and into the hall, and continued up to the top of the stairs. And all this time I was right behind her, watching, too stunned to say a thing. Before I was even halfway able to speak she had disappeared into her kitchen and closed the door behind her, leaving me standing there, wondering if the entire world had gone mad.

  Of course, I thought it was nothing but a nervous reaction on her part. People do the strangest things when they're in shock. Especially the innocent ones. See what I mean about Bad going after Good, though, corrupting it? Making a young girl laugh because she's been indecently assaulted? And in this house of all places. I could always have told you Gilbert was rotten - I just didn't know how rotten.

  You're not going to be surprised to hear then that Mandy didn't come up again after this. I hardly expected her to myself. But then again, Gilbert's behaviour had left me in a terrible state. I couldn't get the picture out of my mind, of hands disappearing under the pleats of her skirt. Right up it was, right up between her...it's no good, I can't say it. But it stayed with me all evening, no matter what I did to try and forget. And you know what made it ten times worse? It was the thought of that poor girl, all by herself downstairs with who knows what thoughts going through her head, and no-one to confide in. In the end, round about eleven, I heard her footsteps on the landing, and couldn't bear it a moment longer. If I did nothing else this night, I had to remind the old kid that there's still some decent folk left on this earth.

  The upshot was I just about collided with her on the landing. She was coming out of her kitchen wearing nothing but a dressing gown and a towel over her arm.

  'Can't stop Larry,' she said as we both stepped back from each other. 'My bath's going to be ready in a sec.' And with that she made to walk past me towards the bathroom as if nothing in the world was the matter. You should have seen the way she smiled, though. It was heartbreaking, that's what it was. You could see she was trying so hard to put a brave face on everything, fighting not to let her real feelings show. All the more reason, it seemed to me, for not simply letting it go at that. So instead of allowing her get past, I sort of spread myself across the landing a bit, just to make her slow up a little, give us both the chance to talk.

  'Everything all right, then, Mandy love?' I said, as casually as I could. Yet if only the light had been better, she could have seen the worry and concern written all over my face. As it was, she didn't seem to notice.

  'Fine,' she said. If I'd asked her about the weather, she couldn't have given much more away. 'Thanks for asking.' And with that, she actually tried to squeeze past me.

  Well I had to do something. I caught hold of her arm, looked straight into her eyes and said, 'Now just stop there, Mandy love. Listen to your old Larry for a minute. Are you sure you're telling me everything? There's nothing happened to ... to upset you recently?'

  The straightforward questions are always the best. This one wiped the smile right off her face. But even then she didn't say anything, just stared down at her arm where I was holding it as if something about it was different. Then her face lit up and she was all smiles again.

  'Oh, I see. You're talking about the phone call. Did you think it was bad news? Honestly, I don't know why you had to go worrying yourself, Larry. It was good news, the best I've had in I don't know how long. Remember that friend I told you about once, the one who lives away up in Edinburgh?' She didn't even wait for me to nod or shake my head, for that matter. 'Well next weekend I'm having a visit. Just four days from now. I know it's not long, but oh, I can hardly wait.'

  'Oh,' I said. 'Oh.' And after that I couldn't think of a thing to say. Until finally I came up with, 'Coming all that way just for the day, this pal of yours?'

  That wasn't meant to be a joke, so there was no need for her to laugh like that. But laugh she did. 'Four hundred miles, just for the day? Oh Larry, of course not. How could you think such a thing? I'm talking about the whole weekend - Friday to Sunday. It wouldn't be worth it otherwise, would it?'

  'No,' I said faintly. 'No I suppose not.' And it was then, laugh or no laugh, that my heart started to bleed for the poor kid. 'Mandy, love,' I said at last. 'You know, I'm awfully sorry to be the one to tell you this, but Ethel's not going to have it - not if your friend's planning to stay here. It's just not her way, love. You thinking otherwise, well, it just shows what a lot you've got to learn. Why, I can remember...

  'She never even let me finish. 'It's all right Larry. You see I've already had a word with Mr Duck. He says there'll be no problem. He's going to talk to Mrs Duck. But he said she wouldn't mind at all. So you see, nothing to worry about.'

  And with that, she gave her arm a little shake and squeezed right past me into the bathroom. Shut the door behind her. A few seconds later you could hear the water heater explode with the sort of racket that would have sent all the other girls flying back into the passageway. Not Mandy though.

  In other words, I'd been given the brush-off, had all that sympathy and concern thrown right back in my face. Yet would you believe it, even now, I couldn't shut off worrying about her. The next thing is I'm standing with face pressed up against the door trying to make myself heard above the roaring and hissing from inside. 'Mandy, love,' I said. 'You just watch out with that Ascot. If it starts playing up, you give me a shout. 'I could even wait out here if you like ...'

  But there wasn't any answer. I suppose there was too much noise for her to know I was there. But downstairs, the kitchen door opened, and there was that quiet which comes over the house when Ethel's on the prowl, wanting to know what's going on. Come to think of it, I could have told her a thing or two.

  Still, if you think that was bad enough, wait for the rest. Because that was when the rot really set in. Nothing between us was the same after that, and I'm not just talking about Gilbert.

  The problem was the girl herself. Mandy. It's no use making any bones about it. She was the one that got me worried. Only how do I explain what nobody else would understand? You would have had to know her the way I do. To see her in those next few days - it was a case of bright eyes and a smile for everybody, never a frown or a cross word. You'd have thought it would do your heart good seeing her like that. But what you've got to remember is, there's a difference between controlled high spirits, and the state she was in just then. It was unnatural. She couldn't stay put more than five minutes. Sit her down, and she'd be up again, looking for an excuse to get going. Wednesday night, I don't know why she bothered coming up at all. She'd no sooner arrived than she was leaving, going on about all the college work she had to do so she could have the weekend free.

  Of course, it all came down
to The Weekend. You'd have sworn it was a mixture of Christmas and birthday rolled into one the way she was behaving. Pretty soon it was starting to loom large in my eyes too, but not in the same way. Right from the start I was wishing we'd never had it crop up. Half the problem was having to watch the girl act in a way that's just not like her. And the other half was concern. She hasn't lived long enough to know what Larry found out half a century ago - namely, the more you let yourself get excited about something, the bigger the let-down.

  But one other thing couldn't help but cross my mind, watching her struggle home last night, Thursday, with a load of shopping on each arm: she'd never gone to this much trouble for anyone else. She's never even offered a certain person so much as a biscuit. Now here was this friend of hers about to get the whole treatment, by the look of it.

  But it was her I was thinking about really. Worried all the time that this friend of hers might cancel, and what I'd have to do to cheer her up. But come this morning, Friday, I decided a new attitude was called for. Now that the big day had arrived and it didn't look as if there was going to be any cancellation to disappoint, maybe it was time to start giving this friend the benefit of the doubt. In other words, it was time to think in terms of there being the three of us here instead of the two. After that, it only took a bit more effort to start looking on the bright side. If this friend - who was a friend of Mandy's after all - turned out to be only half as nice, the chances were the three of us would get on like a house on fire.

  That's why, just before lunch, I popped out and did some shopping for us three - just in case.

  Only, what is it they say - There's no fool like an old fool? That's it, isn't it?