Alfie

by Bill Naughton

  ‘You look all dark under the eyes,’ I said.

  ‘I didn’t sleep so well last night,’ she said.

  I’ll bet you never had a wink, I thought.

  ‘There’s nothing to worry about,’ I said. ‘He’s a proper skilled man, works at a hospital or something. They reckon there’s nothing to it. It’s like having a tooth out, only it don’t hurt. Here, what have you got in the basket?’

  ‘I had to make an excuse,’ she said, ‘so I said I was visiting Harry as usual. I hope nobody finds out.’

  ‘People only know what you tell ’em,’ I said. Quite false, but I thought it would serve for there and then.

  ‘I’ve written and told him I have a cold and it seems better not to go in case I give it to him,’ she said.

  It brought old Harry back to mind when I saw the jar of home-made marmalade, the calves-foot jelly and the biscuits. Come to think of it, there was some kind of peace in my system in those days in the san.

  ‘Will you get rid of them for me?’ she said.

  ‘I’ll use ’em up one way or another,’ I said. I began to take the things out of her basket. Down at the bottom I saw an envelope sticking out. ‘There’s a letter here.’

  ‘It’s from young Phil to Harry,’ she said.

  I looked and saw the squiggly writing on the outside. I didn’t know what to say. She put it into her handbag.

  ‘Is there a—?’ she said.

  ‘You mean a toilet?’ I said. ‘Sure, it’s on the landing. Here, I’ll show you. Come on.’ I took her out to the W.C. on the landing. I was glad I’d given it a cleaning that morning. Then I went back into the room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Just fancy, Lily, old Harry’s wife! And it was funny how I’d got myself involved there. I’d gone out to the sanatorium one Sunday, see, just to let them have a proper look at me. I mean they’d only seen me in captivity, they hadn’t seen how I looked when I was really dressed up; and somehow I’d got that bit attached to them all. Here, a funny thing happened. There’s this little Gina, see, what I was so intimate with. Know what, when she saw me all dressed up she didn’t want to know. I mean, you could have understood it if it had been the other way about – I had been dependent on her and I no longer was. But now it’s Gina who don’t want to know, so that’s another of those little things turn out quite the opposite to what you expect.

  Now I’ve had a nice hour or so – except for this cool interlude with Gina – and I’m just going off when old Harry asks me am I going Maidenhead way back, so that I can give Lily a lift in my car. As a matter of fact I’m not, I’m going back by Wokingham and Ascot. But just to please him I say I could go back that way.

  Now it’s one of the worst mistakes you can make – going out of your way to oblige somebody. It’s very rare I do it, but whenever I do you can bet something is sure to go wrong. I’m not cut out for that boy scout lark, because if ever I do a good deed it always seems to rebound on me. The funny thing is, Lily doesn’t want to come in the car either. I can tell it by the look on her face. So we both agree just to oblige old Harry, lying there in bed. Never oblige a sick person – no good comes of it.

  Lily sits there in silence as I’m driving along, and seeing how ribby she looks and thinking how it would be a nice thing for old Harry’s sake, I drive a roundabout way by the river, and on top of that I ask her would she like some tea. The thought had never struck her and she doesn’t know what to say. Now I’ve got old Ruby’s Zodiac with me, automatic drive, Windsor Grey, real leather individual seats. That’s a car you can take anywhere. So’s I’ve seen one of these big hotels and I’ve driven straight in. It’s a place with these green lawns running right down to the side of the river and little tables set out by themselves under the trees. I quite like anything like that at times. Mind you, you’re paying for the view as well as for your tea. All the little cafes about were crowded but this place is nearly empty, except for a few toffs and I see the reason why when I look at the price. It’s eight-and-six for tea, whilst the other places are only four shillings. Anyway, I lead Lily across to a nice little table by itself just near the edge of the water. She’s nervous, and I can see she’s never been in a place like this before. Now the waiter comes up, an old boy he is, and he gives me a look as much as to say, I know what you are. So I looks back at him as much as to say, and I know what you are. And you know what you can go and do with yourself. Nothing said, see, just dodgy looks. So he starts trying to stare me out but I stare holes in him I do. ‘We only serve the set tea,’ he says. ‘Yes,’ I says, ‘a set tea for madam and I.’

  That old geezer is going to spoil the tea for me, I think. Funny, how they can knock you off your perch. Anyway, he comes back nice and steady with the tea, and I can see he’s had a change of heart, so I cools down. ‘Let me know if you need more hot water, sir,’ he says. Know what, I slipped him a couple of bob there and then. I know it’s manners to wait till you’re leaving but why delay a good impulse. It was the ‘Sir’.

  Lily pours the tea and it comes out nice and strong, and what with these cucumber sandwiches, and fresh scones, whipped cream and blackcurrant jelly, I notice she’s slowly coming to life. A woman can fade away if she don’t get attention. I mean there are good things going in this life, but they never seem to get the way of women like that. She’s feeding the ducks, see, and there’s some little baby ducklings darting in and out around their mum, and as she’s watching Lily gets a nice little smile come to the corner of her mouth. There are women like that who look dead ordinary until they smile and then they kind of come up. I was quite touched by that little smile I was, and I thought to myself, she couldn’t have been too bad a few years ago. Anyway, I feel quite set up after that tea, what with the waiter calling me Sir and Ruby’s big Zodiac parked there in the drive. I was going to leave him another shilling but it don’t do to overdo a good thing.

  I thought I’d like to stretch my legs, the day being so nice. So I’ve taken Lily for a walk along the towpath. Well we come to a quiet little spot there by the Thames, nice and secluded it is, and we sit ourselves down on the warm grass and I’m talking about Harry and how he used to be on visiting days, always watching out for her and pretending he was reading, when the next thing she gives a gulp or something and I sees at once I’ve said the wrong thing. She’s crying away, so I put my hand on her shoulder and try to comfort her. I could feel she was all of a shake underneath, and just because she’s a woman and most women would expect to be kissed at a time like that, I’ve kissed her, ain’t I.

  It started out as a friendly peck on the side of her cheek, and it seemed to work its way around to a full kiss on the lips. Having lain in a bed next to her husband for months on end I couldn’t do less than kiss her, out of my friendship for him, if you see what I mean. Now, whilst I’m still kissing her I can feel her sobs going quiet, and to my surprise I senses that nature or something has started working in her. It was the last thing I expected. Then I think to myself, what harm can it do? My trouble is – I’ve never learnt how to refuse something for nothing, even when I don’t need it. But what man has?

  It’ll settle her little mind, I tell myself, and she must be badly in need of it. Harry will never know, and even if he did he’s no right to begrudge me – or her come to that. It’ll round off the tea nicely. After all, that tea had cost me nineteen shillings with the tip, not to mention the extra petrol going a long way round. It’s funny how many things do go through a bloke’s mind at a time like that. And at the same time I can feel this little man that sometimes comes on my shoulder, and he’s trying to say, Leave it alone, Alfie. But I don’t listen to him. What man does when he’s told, leave it alone.

  Now I don’t know whether it was the fresh air, the whipped cream and jelly, the cucumber sandwiches or old Harry’s missus never having had it off with a man in all that time, but the whole job was over and done with in about three minutes flat, give five seconds either way. Not that I’d rushed it. I’d thought abo
ut her. I bet that was more than old Harry ever had. I’m not that sort of peasant. But I hadn’t dallied about too much, if you see what I mean.

  ‘Know what, Lily,’ I said, ‘I quite enjoyed that.’

  I had too. When a man has learnt to enjoy that, and knows he’s enjoyed it, and admits he’s enjoyed it, and feels thankful in his heart for having had it, then I say he’s halfway to becoming a happy man. It seemed to have taken me out of myself, as they say, relaxed me handsome. You can’t beat fresh air. ‘That was very nice, gal,’ I said, and I gave her an encouraging pat on the back. What I say is – if you enjoy a thing show a bit of appreciation.

  Then I took out my best hanky and wiped the corner of her eyes, where there were stains of teardrops still showing. ‘My, but that’s done you a world of good!’ I said. It had too. It seemed in under five minutes she had come up quite lovely, her little face and everything, as she was lying there on the grass with the afternoon sun coming across the Thames from the west. What a marvellous tonic it can be – if people only knew it.

  It must have been the first time in months that she’d let herself go. Just imagine, from early morning till late night keeping a tight hold of yourself. She starts off about seven every morning messing about and doing for her kids, scrubbing ’em, cooking for ’em, nagging ’em, and listening to ’em. Then, I expect she’s worried about the bills and making ends meet, and if she’s a spare minute she’s got to sit down and write to Harry. I’ll bet even in her sleep she must be worrying. Then comes this little off moment of pleasure from out of the blue, when she can forget all that, and all her little body’s instincts can’t believe it and come rushing out to have their two-penn’orth. No wonder her skin was all glowing white just below the eyes. Good show, Alfie, I thought.

  She was quite surprised to see me so chirpy after it. From what I could gather old Harry tended to come over a bit gloomy at those times. And somehow I could imagine how he would be, thinking how he could have trimmed the privet hedge with all the energy he’d wasted. Or maybe he took it all too much to heart.

  ‘I bet you haven’t been with many blokes beside Harry,’ I said to her.

  ‘I haven’t been with a single one,’ she said, her eyes wide open.

  ‘Except me,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, sorry,’ she said, ‘I’d forgot.’

  It don’t take a woman long to forget if it suits her. ‘Well, it’s widened your experience, gal,’ I says to her. It had too, short as it was. She kept staring at me every time I said anything as though I was a little oracle or something. All in all, she was quite appreciative in her own little way.

  They can say what they want about all this fun-and-games leading up to it, but if you ask me straight out I reckon a bloke feels at his best when he goes at it natural and doesn’t start thinking about how to prolong the pleasure. She hadn’t mentioned the word precaution and it suited me to think she knew her own business best. So we walked along the towpath together, hand in hand. I wouldn’t normally have put my hand into a bird’s hand at a time like that – I get this feeling of needing to take my bearings again, but I did it for little Lily because I had a feeling she was imagining for the moment she was walking along with old Harry.

  So we got back into Ruby’s car. I drove quietly along and dropped Lily off at the corner of her street. I even gave her a little kiss on the side of the cheek as she was getting out. After all there’s little enough romance in life. She looked quite an attractive little Mum as she tripped off, and I thought to myself, that was my good deed done for that day.

  About two months later I get this letter in the post signed ‘Lily’. Who the bleeding hell’s Lily? I thought. I know that name. It’s a very short letter and she says she’s got to see me. She’s dead scared of the neighbours and of her Mum-in-law who only lives round the next road, in case they should find out. So I drop her a quick line back and tell her to meet me at Lyons’ Corner House at the Marble Arch.

  Now if little Lily had done a murder she couldn’t have been more moggadored, because there’s no way out for her. ‘What you worrying about?’ I says, ‘old Harry will forgive you if you tell him the truth.’ And she says: ‘It’s not only him – it’s his Mum and his family. They’ll all know that he can’t be the father, because he’s been lying on his back in the sanatorium this past six months.’ Then it seems there’s all her relations, and of course the neighbours, and even if Harry wanted to forgive her, he couldn’t afford to. They’ll all be whispering about how she was having it off while her poor husband was lying helpless in bed in the sanatorium. Yeh, it seems that her little life is going to come to a sad end all because of about three minutes on the grass on a Sunday afternoon when she forgot herself. ‘Blimey,’ I said, ‘thank God I got no relations to consider and I can live my own life just as it comes and goes.’ So out of kindness I agrees to help her, and lay it all on. There’s lots of these tailoring blokes around London willing to earn a crafty few quid.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  When Lily came back into the room it was hard to believe she was the same woman I’d been lying on the grass with aside of old Father Thames. I mean all the worries and troubles of a woman in her situation had settled round her face. They don’t improve a face. I began to wish I’d listened to the little man on my shoulder.

  ‘I’ve got the money,’ she said, dipping into her handbag. ‘Thirty pounds, all in ones, just like you said. Here you are – for when he comes.’

  I looked down at the notes and the thought crossed my mind that it couldn’t have been easy for her to rustle that lot together. The idea even struck me that it would have been a nice little stroke if I pushed the money back into her handbag and said, ‘This is on me, gal.’ But as a matter of fact I couldn’t. I’d met one geezer the day before who had an old second-hand Riley for sale and he wanted a hundred and ten quid for it. I’d knocked him down to ninety-five, for although there isn’t a good sale for that kind of car, I knew if I got one of these student types interested I’d get a hundred and fifty for it. Anyway that had more or less cleaned me out of ready.

  ‘Don’t give it to me,’ I said. ‘Here, when I ask for it pretend you’ve only got twenty-five, if you see what I mean. He’ll not go back once he’s here. And he might have more mercy, if you’ve got the money.’

  I was also a bit windy in case anything did go wrong, you can never be sure, so I said to her: ‘Remember, Lily, this has got nothing to do with me. I’m just helping you out as a friend. That’ll put me in the clear. Got me, gal?’

  She nodded. You don’t like bringing up that side of it at a time like that, but what good will it do to have you doing porridge and she’s pushing up the daisy roots? After that we somehow ran out of chat, and I was glad when I heard a knock on the door. ‘I expect this’ll be him, now, Lily,’ I said, ‘the medical pranktitioner, as they call him.’ I went and opened the door.

  I’d never seen the chap, although I’d had him described to me by the bloke who put me on to him. I’d even had to telephone him at a certain telephone box because he was that scared of his telephone being tapped, or being trapped by the police. Well, he was a big chap, about forty-five, with horn-rims, and he wore a long dark overcoat, a trilby hat, and to look at him he could have been a National Assistance supervisor, or an embalmer.

  He came straight in when I opened the door, but he never said a word. The first thing he did after having a quick look at us both, was to look round the room. He went under the bed, behind doors, into a wardrobe. I was mystified for the minute until it struck me that he must have been making sure the law wasn’t in hiding.

  ‘Well, here we are,’ I said at last, when he’d finally stopped prying about.

  ‘What do you mean,’ he said, ‘here we are?’

  I know you’ve got to be cautious in that line of business, but I did feel he was coming it a bit strong.

  ‘I mean you’re at the right place,’ I said to him. ‘This is Mrs Clamacraft,’ I said, ‘the young lady what I
told you about.’

  ‘No names,’ he said, ‘no names.’

  Lily put out her hand and said: ‘Pleased to meet you.’ I suppose under the circumstances it was true but it sounded a bit funny to my ear. He seemed in two minds about shaking her hand but then he must have decided there could be no harm in it, and he gave it a polite touch. We all three stood there. Lily didn’t know what to say and it was obvious he wasn’t going to say anything. He was letting us make all the moves. If there was a hidden microphone anywhere he wasn’t going to commit himself on it.

  ‘Have you got your gear with you?’ I said.

  ‘Gear?’ he said.

  ‘Well you know,’ I said, ‘your—’ I didn’t like coming out with the word instruments in front of Lily.

  He didn’t answer.

  ‘Right,’ I said, trying a new tack, ‘I’ll go out whilst you examine the young lady, or I could go into the kitchen in case you need me.’

  He seemed to take the huff at this. ‘Why should I examine this lady?’ he said.

  ‘You’ve got to, ain’t you,’ I said, ‘before you do it.’

  ‘Before I do what?’ he said. He was a real old slyboots.

  Lily couldn’t make out what all the performance was in aid of. ‘Be quiet, Alfie,’ she said. ‘There must be some mistake.’