‘Yes; yes, you’d travelled together quite a bit.’
‘And I’d seen to everything. I was very good at arranging journeys, you know. That was my forte. I knew the best hotels; I always got us the best seats on foreign trains; oh, I did everything for him, and what did I get? To put it crudely, the push.’
‘Would you like to clear these sandwiches, Pilly?’ David was handing him the plate. ‘It’s a shame, they’ll only go to the birds.’
‘Anything to oblige. Anything to oblige.’
He obliged by clearing a plate of smoked salmon sandwiches, then another of bread and butter and another holding four cakes.
And Hannah noted that he had very little to say while he ate; the man was obviously hungry. She watched him now wipe his fingers with delicate precision on a small tea napkin. Then, looking at David, he said, ‘How many rooms have you here, David?’
‘Only the one that we’re sitting in, and my bedroom.’
‘What! in a big house like this?’
‘Well, downstairs is a storeroom for my employer’s books, and upstairs an apartment that belongs to Peter, and there’s only one bedroom there.’
‘Oh, that’s a pity. That’s a pity. I was just looking for somewhere to stay for a few days.’
‘Haven’t you got any lodgings?’
‘Yes. Yes. I’m in with another man, but he’s not compatible. Oh no, not compatible at all.’
Whether Peter had been listening to this discourse Hannah did not know, but it was at this moment that he appeared in the room and, looking at David, he said, ‘The time, sir,’ and he pointed to the clock on the mantelpiece. ‘You promised to be at Mr Gillyman’s by half-past four. They’ve hired the car for then.’
David now turned an apparently astonished gaze from Peter on to Hannah, saying, ‘Good Lord! I’d forgotten all about it. Why didn’t you remind me?’
‘I was about to, but I generally leave these things to Peter.’ Immediately she’d spoken she knew she’d said the wrong thing: it implied that she lived there; and so quickly now she aimed to rectify her mistake by rising to her feet and saying, ‘At work, you know. I do part-time at Mr Gillyman’s among the books.’
‘Oh. Oh, I see.’ The guest was nodding his head now. ‘And you are, like me, merely visiting.’
‘Yes; yes, I was merely on a visit for Mr Gillyman, bringing a message, and . . . and I was inveigled into staying for tea, which I must say was delightful.’ She nodded towards Peter now as if in thanks. Then she added, ‘I’ll get my things and the papers I came for.’
‘Yes, do.’ David, too, rose to his feet, and his rising seemed to bring the visitor towards the edge of his chair. Then, his head on one side, he looked to see if the young lady had disappeared into the far room before straining his face up at David in order to say, ‘You wouldn’t happen to have a set of . . . well’ – he nipped at his trousers – ‘or anything in that line? You see, I . . . I’ve refrained as yet from patronising these so-called charity shops. It marks a fellow, y’know, David. It marks a fellow. I have a few changes, but they’re all . . . well, showing time and wear, and it hurts a fellow, you know, to go around looking like every other . . . ’
‘Say no more, Pill.’ David turned to Peter, and quietly said, ‘There’re some greys and a jacket to match and some oddments. You’ll know. Parcel them up or put them in that small bag of mine. You know what to do.’
‘Yes, sir. Yes, sir, and gladly.’ Peter smiled into the old man’s face, and Pilly returned the smile, adding to it a two-finger salute to his brow.
In the bedroom Peter silenced any remark Hannah might voice by putting a finger across his lips; then, sliding back a panel in a fixed wardrobe that ran the length of the room he fingered some trousers hanging on rails, selected a pair, then threw them on the bed. Next he opened another panel and examined a half-dozen jackets that were hanging there. Lifting out one, he looked at the collar and the cuffs before throwing this, too, on the bed. Then stooping quickly to where there was a rack of shoes, he immediately selected a black pair, turning them over once before adding them to the other articles. Then at the end of the wardrobe he pulled open the third drawer down and whipped out a couple of shirts. Lastly, he reached up to a shelf above and took down a large bag, into which he stuffed the articles; then he made for the door. Again motioning her to silence, he indicated by a movement of his hand that she should stay where she was.
She stood looking towards the closed door in amazement, for he had completed the whole process in less than two minutes. Presently she heard the visitor’s voice saying, ‘Oh, my dear fellow, that is most generous of you; and you always had good taste, where clothes were concerned, at least.’ A short silence followed, then the man’s voice came again, ‘Oh, that is really too good of you, David, but it’s just a loan, mind, just a loan. There’s four of them to go and I’ve sworn to see them all out, and then I’ll come into my own. I’ve always said I would, I’ve always said I would, haven’t I?’
‘You have, Pill, you have,’ and now there was laughter as David added, ‘And, not wishing them to be polished off quickly, I hope you don’t have to wait too long. By the way’ – David’s voice was low now and Hannah had to strain to hear the words – ‘should you happen to come across a certain lady, Pilly, I would be very grateful if you didn’t mention this present address. Anyway, I won’t be here much longer as I’m moving, but in the meantime . . . well, as I said, I’d be grateful.’
‘My dear boy, not a word, not a word . . . Well now, I mustn’t hold you up. Goodbye, my dear fellow.’
‘Goodbye, Pilly, goodbye. The best of luck.’
She heard the door being opened, and then the visitor’s voice saying, ‘I do hope the Gillymans haven’t forgotten that you’re visiting today. Goodbye, Peter dear fellow, goodbye. You really are indispensable. You always have been.’
When Hannah heard the door being closed, none too gently, she stood nipping at her lip. She had rather liked him and felt sorry for him; but that last quip . . . oh, dear me.
The bedroom door opened and David stood there. His face was unsmiling as he said, ‘You can come out now.’ He held out his hand to her, and as he led her back into the room he said, ‘You have just met a man who has ruined more marriages with a final dart from his bitter quiver than there are days in the month,’ and Peter, who was clearing away the tea things, said, ‘If I’d followed my own inclination, sir, I wouldn’t have let him over the doorstep, because he’ll never change. He’s been bad medicine all his life, and I don’t think he’s ever left a house of friend or foe without leaving ruin behind him.’
As Peter left the room with the tea tray David drew Hannah down on to the couch again and, laughing now, he said, ‘It’s funny in a way, you know, because where scandal is concerned he seems to have more power than the News of the World: people are afraid not to let him in in case he says something awful about them, such as recalling some misdemeanour long forgotten; but when they do let him in, well, you see what happened. He was aware all along that we wanted him to leave, yet knowing that one is being kind to him, the hope is that he’ll spare you this once. But no, not Pilly. And yet, you know, he really was at one time the toast of the weekend parties.’
‘I couldn’t help overhearing what you said. Are you thinking about leaving here?’
‘No, no. That’s the last thought in my head. But if he sees my ex-wife again, it is doubtful whether he’d keep his mouth shut about this place or wherever I might be. Anyway, there’s not too much chance of that; she’s going to be spending a lot more time in France, and, from what I’ve been given to understand, she’s hoping to stay for good and set up a stable there. She has three brothers; the eldest, who’s divorced, lives in France permanently, and so I suppose that’s the draw.’ He smiled grimly now as he said, ‘And, by the way, that marriage didn’t last as long as
mine. He was divorced within the year. My wife saw to that. They’re a deadly trio, the brothers; yet I don’t know. Without her they wouldn’t get up to half the things they do.’
Suddenly jerking round to her, he said, ‘What am I yammering on about? This is a most wonderful day and I have to go and talk about things that are buried deep down and would never have been resurrected but for our visitor, and that after I had greeted your wonderful suggestion with an attitude that must have puzzled you, but which I’ll explain later.’
He leant towards her and kissed her. Then, cupping her chin in his hand, he said, ‘I really can’t believe it, that you’re here and you’re going to be with me for the next twenty-four hours; no! longer. I’ve waited years for that Thursday morning at ten to eleven.’
She laughed now, saying, ‘You really remember the time?’
‘Yes; because I was in my cubby hole and I recall looking at the clock and thinking, Ten to eleven and coffee already. It was then I realised it was Gilly’s bell that had rung, and there you were, a blonde goddess in disguise.’
She said soberly now, ‘I wonder how long you’ll be able to hold that image.’
And he, as soberly, answered, ‘Believe me, Hannah, when I give you the answer: as long as I can breathe, because I know that something very vital, very important, very wonderful has happened to me during the past fortnight. I had never thought it would happen, because my experience of so-called love and marriage has been disastrous. The only good thing about it was that it was short. But this feeling you aroused in me right from the beginning is different. I ask myself why I should feel like this, what is the explanation, and I get no reasonable answer, except that it’s like a transcription of all the love one reads about from Abelard and Héloïse or Beatrice and Dante, right through to Edward the Eighth and Mrs Simpson. All right, she wasn’t everybody’s choice, yet she evoked in him such a passion that life would be, as he said, worthless without her. And when you look back and conjure up a picture of her she wasn’t beautiful, and she was only smart through her expensive dressing, yet she evoked a great love. Now you, Hannah, are both beautiful and smart and you evoke in me something beyond description. Perhaps those names, those couples I’ve mentioned, also experienced something like it. That’s why they’ve been remembered down the ages, because all their deeds were prompted by love. Love that didn’t turn sour. I feel the same with regard to you. You . . . you don’t believe me, do you?’
She heaved a deep sigh and, her face still unsmiling, she said, ‘Truly, I can’t take it in. I know how I feel, but I have no words to express my feelings. I only keep asking myself if it’s real and how long it’ll last, how long can it last?’
‘Oh, doubting Thomas.’ He was holding her close again, and she answered, ‘No; just fearful Thomasina, who keeps wondering what she did before you came into her life.’
There was the sound of a door opening, a loud ‘Ahem! Ahem!’ and there was Peter standing before them smiling broadly and saying, ‘Well, I’m going now, sir, and quickly, because I don’t intend to open that door, not for the Mayor and Corporation. And by the way, sir, I may be a little late tonight; the club’s putting on a shindig.’
‘A what?’
‘A shindig, sir. And don’t ask me to explain, it’s a bit of everything. If I were forced, I’d say it’s a cross between an Irish jig, a Scottish reel and the can-can. That’s for those who’re able to get to their feet.’
‘Go on with you!’ David waved him away, saying, ‘I’ll have seen everything when I see you at a shindig.’
‘Sir, you never know what one gets up to when one’s off duty. It’s that feeling of freedom, you know, of release.’
‘D’you want me to push you out or lock you in?’
Taking two steps backwards, Peter smiled at Hannah and, bowing slightly, he said, ‘Good evening, madam.’
‘Good evening, Peter. Enjoy yourself.’
‘I intend to, madam. Yes, I intend to.’
He did not add, as he could have done, And you, too, madam; but again inclining his head, he turned from them and left the room; and David said, ‘A shindig. Could you ever imagine him doing anything like an Irish jig, a Scottish reel or a can-can? Can-can, indeed!’
‘Yes; yes, I could’ – she nodded at him – ‘all three put together, and making a very amusing job of it.’
‘Really? Well, if that’s the case, all I can say is that you’ve discovered something in him that I haven’t even had an inkling of in all the years I’ve known him. Anyway, what would you like to do? What time is it? . . . Half-past five. Well, if we’re going to see a show we’d better get a move on.’
‘D’you want to see a show?’
‘Me?’ He laid his head back on the couch and turned his face toward her, saying, ‘No, but I thought you might want to.’
‘No. I have no desire to see a show tonight. Of course, we could have a bit of a shindig here.’
At this he threw his arms around her and, his body shaking, they rocked together for a moment. Then, sitting bolt upright, he said, ‘You’ve given me an idea, madam. We’ve never danced together. What’s your preference?’
She considered a moment, then said, ‘Anything easy – I can manage a sort of waltz, even a Gay Gordon, but I’m not much good at standing alone wobbling my body like a dog shaking off fleas.’
They were joined together, rocking in laughter again.
She was spluttering now as she said, ‘I can’t stand discos. Eddie goes one better: if Maggie puts on her music, he says something along the lines of: “There go the hounds again, let out for a delousing session.” Poor Maggie, she won’t bring her friends in just in case her dad comes out with such a comment. You can hear him, can’t you?’
‘Oh, yes; I can just hear him coming out with that, and more. But, you know, I liked him. There’s a solidness there, as in Micky, and they’re what the old boys in their clubs used to call the salt of the earth. The salt of the earth. Yet let the salt of the earth give them any backchat and it was stepping out of their place . . . Those fellows! What are things coming to!’
Suddenly he jumped up, pulling her with him. ‘What are things coming to when we’re sitting here like two idiots discussing all the things that don’t matter a damn to us? All I want to do is to talk about you, and, yes, have you talk about me.’ He now rubbed her nose gently with his as he whispered, ‘And tell me that you love me and that you can’t ever live without me and don’t ever want to live without me.’
Obediently she said, ‘I can’t live without you, and don’t ever want to live without you—’ She paused, then added, ‘And I’m not going to.’
‘Oh, my dear.’ He held her gently to him and looked towards the bedroom door, but the voice inside his head warned, Don’t rush things, take it slowly. Let it happen naturally. Dance. That’s it, dance.
They danced, they waltzed, they even attempted a Scottish reel, and at intervals they drank a glass of wine; and lastly they went to the fridge and, there, saw a covered plate holding sandwiches, another bearing minute sausage rolls; these they put on to the trolley that was all set for coffee . . . It was a quarter to ten when they pushed the trolley back into the kitchen; then, as they returned to the sitting room, a silence fell on them as they stood looking at each other; and now he said softly, ‘Would you like to wash?’ and she answered as softly, ‘Yes, please.’
He stood aside and allowed her to pass, and when she reached the bedroom she found she had to grip the foot of the bed rail to steady her trembling limbs. Her case lay on the bed – Peter had tactfully not opened it – her jacket hung on the back of one of the wardrobe doors. After a moment she opened her case and took from it some trousers and a light pullover, and a couple of blouses. These she hung in the wardrobe, along with her jacket. Her dressing gown she laid across the foot of the bed, and lastly she took from
the case a pair of soft slippers and a silky nightdress. The nightdress was one she had never worn while sleeping with Humphrey; in fact, she’d worn it only once before. It had taken her fancy in a sale, where it had looked elegant, but there was so little of it that it lacked comfort, and earlier on, as she packed it, she had wondered if it had been made for such an occasion as she was bound for.
After she had washed she returned to the bedroom and had just taken her case from the bed when David entered. He was wearing a plaid-patterned dressing gown, and when he saw her pick up the case and place it against the wall under the window, then stand for a moment looking out, he went to her and put his arms about her and pressed her to him , saying as he did so, ‘It isn’t a very pleasing view, is it? That’s the extension of the dress factory from the bottom of the street, and you’ll note it only has windows in the roof. I understand that’s to stop the girls wasting their time looking out.’
Loosening his hold on her, he lifted the ornamental ropes from the hooks that held the curtains looped back; then, after pulling the heavy drapes closed, he turned her about to face him and said softly, ‘What is it? You’re not worried . . . regretting?’
‘Oh, no, no.’ She smiled into his face. ‘But I feel, oh—’ She gave a little toss of her head, and to this he said quickly, ‘I know. I know, my darling. But it’s going to be all right.’
Slowly now he again turned her about and when she felt him unbuttoning her clothes she closed her eyes. When the last of her garments had fallen to her feet she was facing him, and he was without his dressing gown. He did not take his eyes off her as he turned back the bedclothes. Then, stooping, he picked her up in his arms and gently laid her down.
The Thursday Friend Page 17