The Penguin Book of the British Short Story

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The Penguin Book of the British Short Story Page 64

by Philip Hensher


  ‘I think you told me about him.’

  ‘My Yankee Doodle Dandy, I called him. I still can feel the stubble of his haircut. It was like he had sandpaper up the back of his neck. Blondie. We sort of went together for a while.’

  ‘You mean he didn’t pay?’

  ‘That kind of thing.’

  ‘Better clear this table.’ Sadie put the cigarette in her mouth, closing one eye against the trickle of blue smoke and began to remove the dirty plates. Ash toppled on to the cloth. She came back from the kitchen and gently brushed the grey roll into the palm of her other hand and dropped it into Agnes’ tin. Agnes said,

  ‘You wash and I’ll dry.’

  ‘What you mean is I’ll wash and put them in the rack and then about ten o’clock you’ll come out and put them in the cupboard.’

  ‘Well, it’s more hygienic that way. I saw in the paper that the tea-towel leaves germs all over them.’

  ‘You only read what suits you.’

  Sadie went out into the kitchen to wash up the dishes. She heard the programme on the radio finish and change to a service with an American preacher. It kept fading and going out of focus and was mixed up with pips of Morse Code. When she had finished she washed out the tea-towel in some Lux and hung it in the yard to dry. She could do her own washing at the launderette but she hated lugging the handful of damp clothes home. There was such a weight in wet clothes. If she did that too often she would end up with arms like a chimpanzee. When she went back into the living room Agnes was asleep in her armchair beside the radio with a silly smile on her face.

  Sadie picked up the large envelope off the sideboard and opened it with her thumb and spilled out the pile of envelopes onto the table. She began to open them and separate the cheques and money. On each letter she marked down the amount of money contained and then set it to one side. Agnes began to snore wetly, her head pitched forward onto her chest. When she had all the letters opened, Sadie got up and switched off the radio. In the silence Agnes woke with a start. Sadie said,

  ‘So you’re back with us again.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You were sound asleep.’

  ‘I was not. I was only closing my eyes. Just for a minute.’

  ‘You were snoring like a drunk.’

  ‘Indeed I was not. I was just resting my eyes.’

  The ticking of the clock annoyed Agnes so she switched the radio on again just in time to hear ‘The Lord is my Shepherd’ being sung in a smooth American drawl. She tuned it to Radio One. Sadie said,

  ‘Hymns give me the creeps. That Billy Graham one. Euchh!’ She shuddered. ‘You weren’t in Belfast for the Blitz, were you?’

  ‘No, I was still a nice country girl from Cookstown. My Americans all came from the camp out at Larrycormack. That’s where my Yankee Doodle Dandy was stationed. You stuck it out here through the Blitz?’

  ‘You can say that again. We all slept on the Cavehill for a couple of nights. Watched the whole thing. It was terrible – fires everywhere.’

  ‘Sadie, will you do my hair?’

  Sadie took the polythene bag bulging with rollers from under the table and began combing Agnes’ hair.

  ‘It needs to be dyed again. Your roots is beginning to show.’

  ‘I think I’ll maybe grow them out this time. Have it greying at the temples.’

  Sadie damped each strand of hair and rolled it up tight into Agnes’s head, then fixed it with a hairpin. With each tug of the brush Agnes let her head jerk with it.

  ‘I love somebody working with my hair. It’s so relaxing.’ Sadie couldn’t answer because her mouth was bristling with hairpins. Agnes said,

  ‘How much was there in the envelopes?’

  ‘Hengy-hee oung.’

  ‘How much?’

  Sadie took the hairpins from her mouth.

  ‘Sixty-eight pounds.’

  ‘That’s not bad at all.’

  ‘You’re right there. It’s better than walking the streets on a night like this.’

  ‘If it goes on like this I’m going to give up my job in that bloody school.’

  ‘I think you’d be foolish. Anything could happen. It could all fall through any day.’

  ‘How could it?’

  ‘I don’t know. It all seems too good to be true. The Post Office could catch on. Even the law. Or the tax man.’

  ‘It’s not against the law?’

  ‘I wouldn’t be too sure.’

  ‘It’s against the law the other way round but not the way we do it.’

  ‘There. That’s you finished,’ said Sadie, giving the rollers a final pat in close to her head. She held the mirror up for Agnes to see but before she put it away she looked at herself. Her neck was a dead giveaway. That’s where the age really showed. You could do what you liked with make-up on your face but there was no way of disguising those chicken sinews on your neck. And the back of the hands. They showed it too. She put the mirror on the mantelpiece and said,

  ‘Are you ready, Agnes?’

  ‘Let’s have a wee gin first.’

  ‘O.K.’

  She poured two gins and filled them to the brim with tonic. Agnes sat over to the table. When she drank her gin she pinched in her mouth with the delightful bitterness.

  ‘Too much gin,’ she said.

  ‘You say that every time.’

  Agnes sipped some more out of her glass and then topped up with tonic. She began to sort through the letters. She laughed and nodded her head at some. At others she turned down the corners of her mouth.

  ‘I suppose I better make a start.’

  She lifted the telephone and set it beside her on the table. She burst out laughing.

  ‘Have you read any of these, Sadie?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Listen to this. “Dear Samantha, you really turn me on with that sexy voice of yours. Not only me but me wife as well. I get her to listen on the extension. Sometimes it’s too much for the both of us.” Good Gawd. I never thought there was any women listening to me.’ She picked up the phone and snuggled it between her ear and the fat of her shoulder.

  ‘Kick over that pouffe, Sadie.’

  Sadie brought the pouffe to her feet. Agnes covered the hole in the toe of her tights with the sole of her other foot. She sorted through the letters and chose one.

  ‘ “Available at any time.” He must be an oul’ bachelor. O three one. That’s Edinburgh, isn’t it? Dirty oul’ kilty.’

  She dialled the number and while she listened to the dialling tone she smiled at Sadie. She raised her eyebrows as if she thought she was posh. A voice answered at the other end. Agnes’ voice changed into a soft purr which pronounced its –ings.

  ‘Hello is Ian there? … Oh, I didn’t recognise your voice. This is Samantha … Yes, I can hold on, but not too long.’ She covered the mouthpiece with her hand and, exaggerating her lips, said to Sadie, ‘The egg-timer.’

  Sadie went out into the kitchen and came back with it. It was a cheap plastic one with pink sand. She set it on the table with the full side on top.

  ‘Ah, there you are again, honey,’ whispered Agnes into the mouthpiece, ‘are you all ready now? Good. What would you like to talk about? … Well, I’m lying here on my bed. It’s a lovely bed with black silk sheets … No, it has really. Does that do something for you? Mmm, it’s warm. I have the heating turned up full. It’s so warm all I am wearing are my undies … Lemon … Yes, and the panties are lemon too … All right, if you insist …’ Agnes put the phone down on the table and signalled to Sadie to light her a fag. She made a rustling noise with her sleeve close to the mouthpiece and picked up the phone again.

  ‘There, I’ve done what you asked … You’re not normally breathless, are you, Ian? Have you just run up the stairs? … No, I’m only kidding … I know only too well what it’s like to have asthma.’

  She listened for a while, taking the lit cigarette from Sadie. She rolled her eyes to heaven and smiled across the table at her. She cov
ered the mouthpiece with her hand.

  ‘He’s doing his nut.’

  Sadie topped up her gin and tonic from the gin bottle.

  ‘Do you really want me to do that? That might cost a little more money … All right, just for you, love.’ She laughed heartily and paused. ‘Yes, I’m doing it now … Yes, it’s fairly pleasant. A bit awkward … Actually I’m getting to like it. Ohhh, I love it now … Say what again? … Ohhh, I love it.’

  She turned to Sadie.

  ‘He’s rung off. That didn’t take long. He just came and went. Who’s next?’

  Sadie flicked another letter to her.

  ‘London,’ she said. ‘Jerome. Only on Thursdays after eight.’

  ‘That’s today. Probably the wife’s night out at the bingo.’

  She dialled the number and when a voice answered she said,

  ‘Hello Jerome, this is Samantha.’

  Sadie turned over the egg-timer.

  ‘Oh, sorry, love – say that again. Ger – o – mey. I thought it was Ger – ome. Like Ger-ome Cairns, the song writer. Would you like to talk or do you want me to … O.K., fire away … I’m twenty-four … Blonde … Lemon, mostly … Yes, as brief as possible. Sometimes they’re so brief they cut into me.’ She listened for a moment, then covering the mouthpiece said to Sadie,

  ‘This one’s disgusting. How much did he pay?’

  Sadie looked at the letter.

  ‘Ten pounds. Don’t lose him. Do what he says.’

  ‘Yes, this is still Samantha.’ Her voice went babyish and her mouth pouted. ‘How could a nice little girl like me do a thing like that?’ … Well, if it pleases you.’ Agnes lifted her stubby finger and wobbled it wetly against her lips. ‘Can you hear that? … Yes, I like it … Yes, I have very long legs.’ She lifted her legs off the pouffe and looked at them disapprovingly. She had too many varicose veins. She’d had them out twice.

  ‘You are a bold boy, but your time is nearly up.’ The last of the pink sand was caving in and trickling through. Sadie raised a warning finger then signalled with all ten. She mouthed,

  ‘Ten pounds. Don’t lose him.’

  ‘All right, just for you … Then I’ll have to go,’ said Agnes, and she wobbled her finger against her lips again. ‘Is that enough? … You just write us another letter. You know the box number? Good … I love you too, Ger – o – mey, Bye-eee.’ She put the phone down.

  ‘For God’s sake give us another gin,’ she said. ‘What a creep!’

  ‘It’s better than walking the street,’ said Sadie. ‘What I like about it is that they can’t get near you.’

  ‘Catch yourself on, Sadie. If anyone got near us now they’d run a mile.’

  ‘I used to be frightened of them. Not all the time. But there was one every so often that made your scalp crawl. Something not right about them. Those ones gave me the heemy-jeemies, I can tell you. You felt you were going to end up in an entry somewhere – strangled – with your clothes over your head.’

  Agnes nodded in agreement. ‘Or worse,’ she said.

  Sadie went on, ‘When I think of the things I’ve had to endure. Do you remember that pig that gave me the kicking? I was in hospital for a fortnight. A broken arm and a ruptured spleen – the bastard.’

  Agnes began to laugh. ‘Do you remember the time I broke my ankle? Jumping out of a lavatory window. Gawd, I was sure and certain I was going to be murdered that night.’

  ‘Was that the guy with the steel plate in his head?’

  ‘The very one. He said he would go mad if I didn’t stroke it for him.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘His steel plate.’

  ‘I can still smell some of those rooms. It was no picnic, Agnes, I can tell you.’

  ‘The only disease you can get at this game is an ear infection. Who’s next?’

  Sadie passed another letter to her.

  ‘Bristol, I think.’

  ‘This one wants me to breathe. God God, what will they think of next?’

  ‘I hate their guts, every last one of them.’

  ‘Do you fancy doing this one? asked Agnes.

  ‘No. You know I’m no good at it.’

  ‘Chrissake, Sadie, you can breathe. I never get a rest. Why’s it always me?’

  ‘Because I told you. You are the creative one. I just look after the books. The business end. Would you know how to go about putting an ad in? Or wording it properly? Or getting a box number? You stick to the bit you’re good at. You’re really great, you know. I don’t know how you think the half of them up.’

  Agnes smiled. She wiggled her stubby toes on the pouffe. She said,

  ‘Do you know what I’d like? With the money.’

  ‘What? Remember that we’re still paying off that carpet in the bedroom – and the suite. Don’t forget the phone bills either.’

  ‘A jewelled cigarette holder. Like the one Audrey Hepburn had in that picture – what was it called?’

  ‘The Nun’s Story?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Breakfast at Tiffany’s?’

  ‘Yes, one like that. I could use it on the phone. It’d make me feel good.’

  As Agnes dialled another number, Sadie said,

  ‘You’re mad in the skull.’

  ‘We can afford it. Whisht now.’

  When the phone was answered at the other end she said,

  ‘Hello, Samantha here,’ and began to breathe loudly into the receiver. She quickened her pace gradually until she was panting, then said,

  ‘He’s hung up. Must have been expecting me. We should get a pair of bellows for fellas like him. Save my puff.’

  ‘I’ll go up and turn the blanket on, then we’ll have a cup of tea,’ said Sadie. Agnes turned another letter towards herself and dialled a number.

  Upstairs, Sadie looked round the bedroom with admiration. She still hadn’t got used to it. The plush almost ankle-deepness of the mushroom-coloured carpet and the brown flock wallpaper, the brown duvet with the matching brown sheets. The curtains were of heavy velvet and were the most luxurious stuff she had ever touched. She switched on the blanket and while on her hands and knees she allowed her fingers to sink into the pile of the carpet. All her life she had wanted a bedroom like this. Some of the places she had lain down, she wouldn’t have kept chickens in. She heard Agnes’s voice coming blurred from downstairs. She owed a lot to her. Everything, in fact. From the first time they met, the night they were both arrested and ended up in the back of the same paddy-waggon, she had thought there was something awful good about her, something awful kind. She had been so good-looking in her day too, tall and stately and well-built. They had stayed together after that night – all through the hard times. As Agnes said, once you quit the streets it didn’t qualify you for much afterwards. Until lately, when she had shown this amazing talent for talking on the phone. It had all started one night when a man got the wrong number and Agnes had chatted him up until he was doing his nut at the other end. They had both crouched over the phone wheezing and laughing their heads off at the puffs and pants of him. Then it was Sadie’s idea to put the whole thing on a commercial basis and form the Phonefun company. She dug her fingers into the carpet and brushed her cheek against the crisp sheet.

  ‘Agnes,’ she said and went downstairs to make the tea.

  She stood waiting for the kettle to boil, then transferred the tea-bag from one cup of boiling water to the other. Agnes laughed loudly at something in the living room. Sadie heard her say,

  ‘But if I put the phone there you’ll not hear me.’

  She put some custard creams on a plate and brought the tea in.

  ‘Here you are, love,’ she said, setting the plate beside the egg-timer. ‘He’s over his time.’ Agnes covered the mouth-piece and said,

  ‘I forgot to start it.’ Then back to the phone. ‘I can get some rubber ones if you want me to … But you’ll have to pay for them. Will you send the money through? … Gooood boy. Now I really must go … Yes, I’m listening.’
She made a face, half laughing, half in disgust, to Sadie. ‘Well done, love … Bye-eee, sweetheart.’ She puckered her mouth and did a kiss noise into the mouthpiece, then put the phone down.

  ‘Have your tea now, Agnes, you can do the others later.’

  ‘There’s only two more I can do tonight. The rest have special dates.’

  ‘You can do those. Then we’ll go to bed. Eh?’

  ‘O.K.,’ said Agnes. ‘Ahm plumb tuckered out.’

  ‘You’re what?’

  ‘Plumb tuckered out. It’s what my Yankee Doodle Dandy used to say afterwards.’

  ‘What started you on him tonight?’

  ‘I don’t know. I just remembered, that’s all. He used to bring me nylons and put them on for me.’

  She fiddled with the egg-timer and allowed the pink sand to run through it. She raised her legs off the pouffe and turned her feet outwards, looking at them.

  ‘I don’t like tights,’ she said, ‘I read somewhere they’re unhygienic.’

  ‘Do you want to hear the news before we go up? Just in case?’

  ‘Just in case what?’

  ‘They could be rioting all over the city and we wouldn’t know a thing.’

  ‘You’re better not to know, even if they are. That tea’s cold.’

  ‘That’s because you didn’t drink it. You talk far too much.’

  Agnes drank her tea and snapped a custard cream in half with her front teeth.

  ‘I don’t think I’ll bother with these next two.’

  ‘That’s the way you lose customers. If you phone them once they’ll come back for more – and for a longer time. Give them a short time. Keep them interested.’ She lifted the crumbed plate and the cups and took them out to the kitchen. Agnes lit another cigarette and sat staring vacantly at the egg-timer. She said without raising her eyes,

  ‘Make someone happy with a phone call.’

  ‘I’m away on up,’ said Sadie. ‘I’ll keep a place warm for you.’

  Sadie was in bed when Agnes came up.

  ‘Take your rollers out,’ she said.

  Agnes undressed, grunting and tugging hard at her roll-on. When she got it off she gave a long sigh and rubbed the puckered flesh that had just been released.

  ‘That’s like taking three Valium, to get out of that,’ she said. She sat down on the side of the bed and began taking her rollers out, clinking hairpins into a saucer on the dressing table. Sadie spoke from the bed,

 

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