by David Storey
‘You’ll know soon enough,’ he said, and his cup rattled in the saucer as he lifted it up.
Maurice came across like an innocent breeze, and brought his own coffee. He stirred it while Middleton examined our two faces side by side.
‘We’ve been told we’d make a good picture together,’ Maurice told him. He seemed offended by something. I was sure he knew what Middleton wanted.
Middleton answered with a resigned gesture, and said, ‘A’m not finding this funny, Braithewaite. Do you mind turning off your schoolboy antics while you’re with me.’
‘What is it you want?’ Maurice said. ‘Not to throw this afternoon’s game for a fiver?’
‘I want to know’, he said, looking quickly at us both, ‘which of you it is who’s responsible for Judith, my secretary, being pregnant.’
‘Christ,’ Maurice said, stopping a laugh, ‘is that all? I thought at first you’d won the pools.’
‘It’s not news to you,’ he said.
‘No—I should think everybody in the room knows. … As a matter of fact Weaver was just mentioning the secret when I came across.’
‘I didn’t know about it,’ I said, and tried to think of when I’d last seen Judith and what she’d looked like.
‘There’s innocence for you.’ Maurice shovelled his hand at me. ‘That lets us two kippers out.’
‘I don’t see how it does,’ Middleton said quietly. ‘From all her many friends I still think you two know who I want.’
‘Why don’t you ask her?’ Maurice said. ‘I reckon she’s likely to know best. Mother always knows, you know.’
‘At the moment I find that something I don’t want to do. I’d much prefer it if you told me.’
‘I don’t know her as well as you’re trying to make out,’ I told him. ‘And if it is true, I don’t think she’d want you to interfere.’
Middleton looked pained, and he flushed. ‘You mayn’t understand this, Machin. But the fact is I have a responsibility to that girl. I’m responsible in one way or another for a lot of the people she meets, a lot of the places she goes to. And if that word responsibility means nowt to you, then I’m sorry. I came here this morning with the intention of finding out. And you two are the most likely people.’
‘Oh, I understand your position,’ Maurice said. ‘I mean I can see you thinking people might say it’s you.’
Middleton didn’t answer for a moment Then he said, ‘It does you no good, that sort of talk. You might think I’m a bit of an ass talking like this, and asking you questions. But Judith’s a good girl. I don’t want to stick a knife into her—or into the man responsible. I only want to see the situation handled properly from the beginning. Do you see my meaning?’ He looked at us both intently.
‘I’ve known Judith since she was a baby,’ he went on. ‘I’ve known her parents for as long as I care to remember. They’re all people I respect. I think I’m in something of a position to help them now. … It’s not for nothing I’ve come to you two first. You both are, to put it simply, number one suspects. I don’t go around with my eyes shut, you know. A’ve seen,’ he added confidentially, ‘and A’ve asked.’ He propped his forefinger against the side of his nose.
I waited for Maurice to say something, perhaps a vague inquiry about what Middleton intended to do. But he only went on looking at the Mayor with a vacant, ready-smile of a stare.
‘How deep are you in this, Middleton?’ I said, weakly, wondering if Maurice didn’t mind who took the blame. ‘Is it a piece of Council politics, or what?’
‘If you’re reckoning I want to hush it up, then the answer’s “yes”. I don’t want these Primstone-Mecca Saturday maniacs going tearing round with it like a piece of dirt. But if you think I want to use it as a piece of scandal myself, directed against those football ’eroes who strut about town as if they owned it, then you’re wrong. It’s for everybody and everything concerned that I want to see it taken care of properly, and quietly. Does that show you where I stand, Machin?’
‘Yes. … All you need now is the bloke.’
‘Aye. That’s all I need.’ He looked at both of us.
Maurice opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. Then he said, ‘Honestly, Middleton, I don’t know where you get all this load from.’
Middleton stood up and fingered his Homburg. ‘There doesn’t seem much need for me to go on asking,’ he said. He was still flushed, his eyes anxious and strained. ‘I’ll say good morning. And good luck for this afternoon.’
He walked out slowly, tipping his hat unconsciously to the uniformed doorman.
Weaver, who’d been watching what was going on over his neighbour’s shoulder, got up and came across with all the reluctance and impatience that was supposed to characterize our present relationship.
‘What is it, Morry?’ he said. ‘You don’t want to get yourself worked up—or Arthur—before a match. You should leave these arguments for Saturday night, or Sunday.’
He knew what Middleton had been about, and must have thought he’d only to talk a lot to rid us all of worry. ‘Why,’ he said, ‘you don’t want to take that man so seriously. He can talk the hind leg off a donkey. If every signalman on the railways is like Middleton it’s no bloody wonder the trains are always late. …’
‘He seems to think’, I said, ‘that either Maurice or me is a daddy.’
He stared at me sullenly, his blue eyes narrowed. ‘This Judith story that’s going about? … But I don’t think that’s so serious—for Middleton to cause a commotion about.’ He put his arm round Maurice’s shoulder, but Maurice, looking both dejected and angry, shook it off. ‘Temper, temper,’ Weaver said, hurt by this bit of public defiance. He glanced round to see how many were noticing the episode. ‘There’s no need to act like this, Morry. Christ’s sake, pull yourself together.’
‘It’s that frog Middleton,’ Maurice said. ‘Shoving his bloody big nose in. I ought to have flattened him.’
Weaver glanced at me to pull Maurice out of his petty mood.
‘You want to be careful how you treat Middleton,’ he advised him. ‘You know what happened to him three years ago?’
‘What’s that?’ Maurice said, looking up and hoping for something particularly damning.
‘He separated from his wife. A couple of months later she died.’
Maurice waited, then said, ‘What’s that got to do with me?’
‘Well, you can imagine what people said. No doubt he’s been on the lookout ever since for some opportunity to exonerate himself—to show he’s not as cold a man as he’s made out. I must say I was surprised the way he behaved at my party.’
‘Aye, and that’s what he may’n be surprised at too,’ Maurice said. ‘It wasn’t only that M.P. that was round her that night. There was him himself.’
‘Aw now, Maurice …’ Weaver began in a whisper, because Maurice’s voice was beginning to carry. ‘Now look …’ But when he saw Maurice’s face, its tight and bitter look, he stopped. For a moment he looked at me helplessly, then a sudden light came into his eyes. He said, ‘The only thing to do, Maurice, is for me to see Middleton. And Judith herself.’
He might even have been jealous of Middleton organizing a crusade, but now that he saw the chance of getting one of his own together all his loose feelings left him. He even looked at me as though a hard word had never crossed between us. It was a wide open opportunity for him to be kind, to be generous, and he put his arm round Maurice’s shoulder more firmly this time. ‘You just leave this to me, Morry,’ he said. ‘I’ll take care of it. He seemed to be in no doubt that Maurice was responsible.
I fixed up with a dealer in the Booth for the TV to be delivered Monday at cost price. I paid him ten per cent deposit. He seemed glad to do me the service. I signed his kiddy’s autograph book. Then we went to the Northern Hotel Grill for a steak lunch.
Mauri
ce had a good game that afternoon. One of his best. I had one worse than bad, and I was met in the changing room by a smiling Weaver. He stood in the clouds of steam, between two piles of mud and jerseys, and said, ‘I don’t know what you’ve got to be worried about, Arthur.’ He’d gone back to the easy attitude of our first meeting. He was all smiles. ‘Stop worrying. You played terribly today. Thank goodness I for one know the reason why.’ He gave me a confidential wink and went over to talk to Maurice.
Judith was at the Mecca that night. She looked a bit strained under the eyes, but she was putting on a show, and no one would have noticed if they hadn’t all known she was pregnant. A particular eye was kept on those who danced with her—always a bit apart so’s not to touch bellies—and the barman was even careful not to chat too long. She was towing quite a bomb around with her. It took me an hour to get her alone. We shuffled in a tight circle in the middle of the floor. I found myself careful not to press too close.
‘You look worried tonight, Tarzan,’ she said, perhaps hoping I’d softened. ‘I hear you didn’t have a good game this afternoon.’
‘No.’
‘Maurice played well.’
‘It’s more difficult for him not to. But I’m not worried over that.’
‘What is it, Tarzan? Still looking for your ideal lady?’
I thought she nearly said landlady. I told her, ‘I saw Weaver up at the ground after the match. I’ve never seen him looking so happy.’
‘What of it?’
‘When I see him happy these days it makes me feel uneasy. … I wondered what he’d been saying to you this afternoon.’
‘Who?’ She was astonished. We stopped dancing. ‘I haven’t seen him since Christmas. You know, the party, Tarzan. You and Mag.’
‘Do you often tell lies, Judith?’
‘Now what?’ She tried to look impatient, and we started moving round the floor once more.
‘Everybody here knows you’re pregnant by Maurice. What’re you trying to act about? Tell me. What did Weaver say this afternoon?’
She slipped from my loose hold, made for the door, and disappeared into the powder-room. Quite a few people stopped to watch her go, then looked back at me. I followed her slowly and waited outside the men’s cloakroom, opposite the exit.
Maurice slipped through the crowd on the floor. His bright pink, half-loaded face was angry. ‘What’ve you started?’ he said. ‘What’s the matter with you? Weaver said it was all settled. Now leave her alone.’
‘I want to know how it’s settled. Don’t you?’
‘No. If he’s arranged things to lie, then let them lie. He knows how to handle these people. You’re stupid, Art. You might unfasten all he’s done. Christ, you don’t want to lake about with her when she’s in that condition.’
‘I don’t like things going on behind my back. You’ve less to lose than me. I don’t want any labels on me, joke or no joke. If Mrs Hammond heard …’
He waited for me to go on with this domestic incident. He watched me in bleary half-astonishment.
‘If you’d only pull Judith out with you,’ I told him. ‘And stop all this talking. You’ve made a mistake … why can’t you come out with it? You stink, Maurice.’
He waited again, to see if there was any more. Then he said, ‘I’d kill you for that, Art, if I hadn’t reckoned on you as my mate!’ His face was shining and bloated with alcoholic rage. He caught hold of the lapels of my jacket in his hard little fists and tried to pull me towards him.
I gripped his wrists. ‘And I’d have done the same for you, Maurice,’ I told him. He listened intently as I said it, as if he heard a lot of other voices at the same time. Judith came out of the powder-room with a friend.
We both watched her pass. I thought for a moment Maurice was going after her. He swayed on his toes. Then he rocked back on his heels and flung his fists down from my coat. I lurched back against the wall. ‘I’m going to talk to her,’ I said. ‘Are you coming?’
He stepped aside to see if I would. He didn’t follow me. When I got outside I looked back. He’d disappeared from the entrance.
I caught Judith in Market Street, off City Centre. It was raining hard. ‘I’ll take you home in the car,’ I told her. ‘I’ve got it parked at the Mecca.’
‘She doesn’t want to talk to you,’ said her friend, a clerk from the Education Offices.
‘Shove off,’ I told her. ‘This’s private.’
‘No. She’s staying,’ Judith said.
‘I said go away, little girl. If you want to see what happens go and stand at the corner.’
‘She’s staying, Tarzan. I don’t want to talk to you.’
‘If I can’t talk to you,’ I told her, ‘I might as well go up to your house.’
Her friend brightened up with privileged interest. The bus came and Judith hadn’t moved.
‘Are we getting on, Judy?’ her friend said, rain streaming down her face.
‘You’re a cad, saying that,’ Judith told me.
‘Are you coming back to the Mecca, then we can get in the car and talk.’
‘No. I’m not going anywhere with you.’
‘We can’t argue in the street. I’m getting wet. Make your mind up quick. It’s either you or your mother.’
I started back across the Bull Ring. After a few minutes I heard her running after me. She’d left her friend at the bus stop. ‘Tarzan! Don’t run off like that. …’
I stepped into a shop doorway and she came in with me. ‘I wanted to know what Weaver said to you,’ I said.
‘Why should it concern you? It doesn’t, you know.’ Her face was hard, unlike her, and flecked with rain. She was panting after her little run.
‘Middleton doesn’t seem to think so. He came to see me as well as Maurice today. You know he’s having a quiet crusade about it?’
‘Yes. I know. But I can’t see him getting anywhere.’
‘What did Weaver say?’
She rubbed her finger against the steamed-up window of the shop; I could just see the vague pyramid outline of piled up tins and packets. ‘He said he’d talk to Maurice.’ A filter of mist came out with her words. ‘He said he’d talk to Maurice for me. Are you satisfied, nosey?’
‘And is that all he said?’
‘What concern is it of yours, Tarzan? I don’t see how anybody should want to drag you in.’ She looked back at the empty street, glistening with rain, and her friend waiting at the corner.
‘I just don’t want people to think it might have been me. At the moment, what with Maurice not coming clean, and all this stupid talking and running about, anything might happen. I don’t find this a joke like most people, you know.’
‘You’re exaggerating,’ she said, surprised at my concern and moodiness.
‘Well, did Weaver make any arrangement with you … or anything like that?’
‘You seem to have a grudge against Weaver, as though he’s doing something subversive, behind your back all the time. I honestly don’t think you’re as important as that, Arthur. And Weaver isn’t like that. He couldn’t be malicious if he tried. … And if you must know everything he said, then, he offered me money if he couldn’t talk Maurice round. That’s all he’s doing. And he’s not buying me off, if that’s what you’re thinking. You know Maurice on his own’ll let things drag. He won’t bother to work out what’s best for himself, or anybody else. He wants a good time. … If we have to get married then I’d rather he did it off his own bat, not because he was dragged into it or because he just dropped into it. Weaver can help him there. If he fails to impress Maurice then he said the baby would never be a financial burden to me—or anybody. God above, I can’t think of a finer thing a man could do. … And look how you’re behaving!’
‘You’ve got your things you’re frightened of losing, Judith. And I’ve got mine.’
‘You’ve no need to be bothered, Tarzan. I can tell you that. So let’s all stop this chasing about.’
‘And so you said you’d keep quiet about everything till Weaver’s had a chance to talk to Maurice?’
She nodded. We both watched a lighted bus fill the street, leaving two furrows on the wet tarmac. Someone walked past the shop doorway. Judith’s friend came and stood in a doorway opposite, and peered across at us.
‘Let’s hope he gets round to it quick,’ I said, and stepped out into the rain.
‘Knowing Maurice, Tarzan, what exactly would you do in my place?’
There was real appeal in her voice. She pushed past me and ran across the road. She was crying. The two girls met, said a few words, and Judith set off by herself to the Bull Ring. Her friend stepped under a dark shop canopy and watched her go. I pulled up my jacket collar and walked back to the car.
I got home from work on Monday to find the TV already in place. The three of them were watching a children’s programme in the front room.
‘You were quick in getting it,’ Mrs Hammond said, standing up smartly. ‘I didn’t know you’d even ordered one.’
‘I said I’d get you one.’
‘You’re a man of your word,’ she said deliberately. ‘… I thought we’d have it in the front room. If it was in the kitchen I’d never stop looking at it. Thank you very much, Arthur.’ She kissed me lightly on the cheek and called to the kids, ‘Say thank you to Arthur for it.’
‘Thank you, Arthur,’ Lynda said with a small questioning look at her mother, and turned back to the set.
‘Tank Artar,’ Ian said. He was beginning to get bored already and rolled about on the floor.
‘That’s my bloody hero.’ I picked him up, and for the first time forgot he was Eric’s son. I rubbed my nose on his and he laughed. When I put him down he fell on his head, rolled over, and burbled.
‘Be careful with him,’ Mrs Hammond said.
‘He’s all right. We want him to grow into a good forward, don’t we?’
She gazed at me critically. Then she nodded and said, ‘Yes, if you like.’