Loving, Living, Party Going (34 page)

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Authors: Henry Green

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'You can't get drawings out of him, everyone hi this place knows how I've tried to get on with 'im. I could go up there and cry my eyes out but dirty Shylock he's like stone, and he'd leave the place straightaway, quick as knife, if anyone went into his place. If I went in he'd knock me on the head. I never go near him, just to keep him in a good temper I daren't do it, he goes up in smoke if you so much as look at 'im.'

'What are we to do then?'

'Don't ask me I'm telling you.'

'I'd better see him.'

'Only a week or two ago I had to have a word with him over that Smithson plant he was seven weeks with, only a week ago. He said Bumpus had been ill and he wanted another man as well. Where's the money going to come from to pay that extra man, eh, tell me that? If we can't keep overheads down where are we? And still there's not everyone could do so nice a job when 'e's in the mood. But we'll be out of business before he's done. It's all fine enough to be pleased with yourself as punch but there's others can do the job just as good and in half the time. That's what it is in business now, they take any job so long as you do it quick.'

'I'll see him, Arthur.'

'You look out what you're doing. Something's up, you haven't got to be blind to see that. I gave 'im something to chew that other day and had 'im on his knees before my chair there where you're sitting.
He was sick as if I'd been Mussolini and given him cod liver oil. And then he looked so perked up a day or two after I didn't know what to make of it. Now the young fellow's coming down. What's there in all this?'

'Archer and young Mr Dupret have been a lot together lately' said Mr Walters with muted drama and called through to office for Miss Maisie Alexander to get Mr Tarver.

'Have they eh? And d'you know what Tarver said I was to Maisie, said I was off it, crazy. Can you work with a man like that, and when he's old enough to be your son. What are you going to say to 'im?'

'You leave it to me Arthur.'

Then Tarver came in.

'How are you Mr Tarver? Keeping fit?'

'I'm fine thanks Colonel. Feeling on top of the world.'

'That's good. Is the wife well?'

'Fit as she can be.'

'That's good. Look here about that Bryson order, they telephoned me yesterday—'

'Yesterday? How's that?'

'They're expecting that jacket right away.'

'Why I only got the rough drawings three days ago.'

'Three days ago' cried Mr Bridges.

'Three days ago' said Mr Tarver.

'What's that?' said Mr Walters.

'I don't know when anyone else got 'em' said Mr Tarver 'but we got the specifications Tuesday in our office.'

Then they lied for some time all of them.

Was no record of when specifications went from office of works manager to drawing office and Walters said perhaps they had been lying about in cost office before they had gone through to Tarver, but Bridges and this one did not listen. One waved newspaper, other clenched fist over rolled up handkerchief in his hand and bit at ends of it.

Gradually they got quieter.

'What we want' said Mr Bridges 'is the work to go through.'

'That's what we are all trying to do in our different ways' said Mr Walters and Mr Tarver said 'We're working just for that and nothing else.'

'Of course it's got to be a good job, an engineer's job' Bridges said.

'We've got the best name in the trade for the quality of the work we turn out' Walters said.

'But how'd you expect anyone to turn it out in three days, that's what I can't get hold of Tarver said.

'But as you were saying just now Arthur' Mr Walters murmured as if he had not heard Mr Tarver 'the whole trend of modern business is that they don't care how it is so long as they get the job quick.'

'What d'you mean three days' said Bridges to Tarver, 'more like three weeks, and that's not guess work it's observation, I haven't sat watching you these days and days with what I've seen going in at one eye and out of the next.'

'Where'd you get three weeks. It was the day before yesterday when I got those measurements.'

'Day before yesterday, Thursday, Wednesday, d'you hear that Tom' to Mr Walters ' 'e's on a new talk now, it was six days I remember him telling us not three minutes back.'

'It was not.'

'I'm not saying any more' Mr Bridges said 'you go on and talk it out between you if talking helped anyone ever.' He went out.

'There goes a fine man' said Mr Walters. 'Look here' he said speaking like as of earthquake or the deluge 'look here we're all Brummagen men all three of us let's face up to this, John, like fellow citizens. I know and you know Arthur's hard to work with when he's got one of his tantrums on him, I've had some times with him, my word, but you know he's got a lot better in the last few years. But in the old days my word, it's nothing to what it used to be. And of course you're a young man and this place will seem to you a dead alive sort of hole but you've got to take into account mind you that there's not more than ten per cent of the engineering firms in this country making above three per cent profits.'

'That's all they declare' said Mr Tarver.

'I don't know, that's a big thing to say. In London you get a pretty good view of the whole thing and from what I've been told I say it's that myself. Now look here John you won't find another firm that'll give you so much scope, you haven't got much to do, you get time here to work out your ideas and put 'em on paper. Let's get down to it and live in peace. Why when I was with Watsons you
were lucky if you got away with it of a morning without someone about the place resigning or getting the sack. There was no time to work or know whether you were on your head or not. But here you've got your own office pretty well, and there isn't all that amount to do.'

'That's just what there is. I can't get through it with Bumpus bad on and off like 'e is. We've got to do something, though it'll take two years to do it in this place. And I must have another draughtsman because as it is now he' nodding to door 'he's on at me the whole time like a can with a stone in it at the end of a dog's tail so that I can't do anything for worry three parts of the time. You can't work with him.'

'I've had terrible times with him myself, terrible times, don't I know it. But I've stuck it out and I've done better for myself in this firm than I could in most others. Though you might see eye to eye with him, he's a fine man, you can't help respecting him. There's not everyone could have done what he's done for himself.'

'But what's 'e do for the firm?'

'He's done more than anyone for it except myself John.'

'Oh well I'll say this, squire, I've got nothing against him personally.'

'No that's right—' and so Mr Walters quieted Mr Tarver and the door opened minutes later.

'That bed-plate' said Mr Bridges coming in, 'it's a worry, every time I go into the works and go by it I could go crazy. Crazy' he said remembering Miss Alexander, 'crazy, of course you can't expect much of a man that's crazy especially when he's manager. Little things like dates you can't expect him to remember that.'

'What's wrong with the bed-plate Arthur?' Mr Walters said.

'It's cracked, you can put the blade of your knife in a full quarter of an inch. I'm having them fake it up but there it is there, they've only got to spot it and the money's gone.'

'You cement it and no one will notice.'

'The vibration of the engine when it's set up will crack it right across' said Mr Tarver.

'Oho' said Mr Bridges 'but when you've seen as many bed-plates as I have my lad you'll tell a different tale to your grandmother. Why I remember one bed-plate I saw at the H.B.S. and the moulder put his trowel right down into it and it's working now on a liner.'

Mr Tarver was smiling.

'Well that's all Tarver for the moment' said Mr Walters but as soon as he was gone Mr Bridges cried out' 'ave you seen anything like it, smilin' like a mandarin, what's 'e got up his sleeve? And he talks about engineering, why if it came down to drawing a door knob 'e couldn't do it. That's what we're coming to, eh, cubs like 'im and 'is little master trying to teach us. And I've given all I know to this firm, you know it, we all know it, I've worked my heart out. It makes you want to hang yourself by the window cord from the window. Years of work and now this.'

'The chief isn't dead yet' said Mr Walters 'and now he's fallen down in the street maybe he won't be so fond of walking across them as he was before, so he'll add another ten years to his life. You can't do it now unless you're a young man' said Mr Walters to Mr Bridges and soon he was talking of the difference in Birmingham and London streets and by much talking of such things friendly to both of them he dressed Mr Bridges' wounds.

 

'That bed-plate' said Mr Bridges – 'come along John as you're there. They were at me this morning on the 'phone calling me names, I might have been anything, a urinal, anything.'

'Their man said he'd put his walking stick into the one we sent him, he knows how he did it I don't, it was a wee crack, I could only put my knife in a bare eighth. What's he want with a walking stick in a factory eh, d'you call that business. It beats me how he's the cheek to say that over a public service like the telephone.'

Bridges and Tarver hurried down through works to iron foundry.

'It's going to cost a fortune, eh, we've got to cut the old one up and this one to replace it will take two men and a boy five days to ram up and six-and-a-half to finish, then it's got to be dried. We can't stand it. It's a worry.'

They came to iron foundry.

'They've put Craigan on it then' said Mr Tarver when he had seen what, as he told Bumpus later, he had not believed when he was told.

'I told him (meaning foreman) to do that. Craigan may be a bit slow now but he's sure. It'll be a fine job when he's done with it' Bridges was singing with sureness almost. 'We can't afford to have another like the last one.' His mood changing 'By God' he cried 'but look at the land it's taking.'

We can't afford to have them at all thought Mr Tarver. But I'm not saying anything yet awhile he said to himself.

'Get on with that bed-plate man' Bridges said rushing threateningly on foundry foreman Philpots.

'Yessir' foreman said 'they're tearing into it.'

Tearing into it thought Mr Tarver, two old age pension men and one young feller which looks like girl!

'We're doing over on it' said Philpots, foundry foreman.

There you are said Tarver to himself overtime and so much more on the job and one that I wouldn't answer their enquiry if I was manager. You can bet, he thought, they had to circularize all the old county to find a fool big enough to try and cast a thing that shape and manage to make a good one. Robbery, just robbery.

'It's robbery, dirty robbery in daylight, making us do another' said Mr Bridges to Philpots, 'I put my knife in that crack and it was a bare quarter yet they sent it back. But we can't afford to quarrel with them. Don't you leave it day or night Andrew' foreman's name was Andrew Philpots, 'it's worth your job to you, and mine to myself. The chief'd soon have me chasing if this happened twice in a year.'

'There they are' Joe Gates said of Mr Bridges and Tarver to Dale and Mr Craigan, ramming. Gates shovelled sand.

'More sand' Dale said.

They worked fast for another hour.

'Hold on' said Mr Craigan and then straightened backs. His eyes were like black stones with anger.

Later that evening, when they were home he said again he was getting to be old man. Lily and Jim Dale separately worried about his saying this, Joe Gates was too tired. He had never said that before, either said in his own mind.

7

They had taken bus. They had gone Saturday afternoon to Mr Jones' uncle and aunt that were lodge-keepers at gate of big house one mile out from bus terminus.

They had taken bus and had walked out They had come in time
for tea. They had stayed for supper. Lily Gates took pleasure in feeding chickens, it was infinitely amusing for her, and she had on new dress.

After supper they had started back for bus terminus towards ten o'clock. They had talked. Lily thought Bert Jones was great on talking. She had said what kind of a life did they live up in the big house which his uncle was gatekeeper of and he said there was three young ladies, daughters of the house, but were no sons, father employed a lot of men in Birmingham he said. She said when they married, those three, would the eldest come with her 'usband to live in the house so it would stay in the family, and he said he couldn't tell and she said she wondered what kind of lives they did live there.

She said it seemed a pity there wasn't a man the house wouldn't come to though girls were as good as, men but still. She said they'd go out to dances every night probably and have a high old time. He said perhaps he kept his daughters in and didn't let them out much but she said that class never did that, the girls were free as the fishes in the sea and as slippery, using words her father would have used. And more than that she said, she had asked his aunt and she'd seen them come out of an evening scores of times, so she said.

From joking with him and from the long day talking with him her laughing went out all at once into confidences. Coming closer to him she began to tell what she had not meant to tell anyone, as if he had taken her will from her. She said how low Mr Craigan was often now in his self, and that once when he came back from work some time since she had thought he was finished.

' 'E's the man in our house really too you see' she said 'and he ain't never said it out like that before. When he an' dad gets too old for work I don't know what'll 'appen. I know I don't.'

'Well, of course,' Mr Jones said, 'he wouldn't be so young now' he said and was moved at her confiding in him.

She pressed closer to him.

'No, that's right, he ain't But he loves his work. What'll come to us when he an' dad gets too old for it I don't know. Grandad won't know where he is. Yes I often lie awake o' nights thinking 'ow 'e'll manage. And how us'll get on, dad and the rest,' she said and was silent. As they walked, then Mr Jones had rush of feeling. He saw everything one way. 'Us working people we got to work for our living,' he said passionately, 'till we're too old. It's no manner of use
thinking about it, it's like that, right on till we're too old for them to use us. Then our children'll make provision for us,' he said and stopped and suddenly he kissed her for the first time. She pressed up to his face, her eyes shining. Then for a long time they kissed each other, murmuring and not hearing what they murmured, behind cattle shed in field they had been crossing.

 

He sat at home alone in a chair picking his nose.

'The other day I met a girl called Glossop' he said in his mind. He remembered he had asked Mary about her and she had known her by sight, had seen her at dances. Then how had he not seen her? But sometimes in reading, he thought, you will find word you do not know and when you learn the meaning then for a few days you come again and again upon that word. So perhaps he only noticed same people at dances. He thought you made a little circle and yours reflects other circles. Death, death, sackcloth and ashes.

 

When Lily wakes, her eyelids fold up and her two eyes soft, brutal with sleep blink out on what is too bright for them at first. She stirs a little in the warmness of bed. Then, eyes waking, she sees clearly about her and stretches. She brings arms up above heir head and takes hold on one of those parallel bars up behind pillow, and pulls her heavy thighs and legs out straight. Till she brings head up against that bar and till it forces head down on her breast, so she pulls. This done, she sits up, awake.

She saw in images in her mind how Mr Dale was to her like being on the verge of sleep, in safe bed. She laughed and stretched again. She turned to thinking of this new day and what she would have to get for the house today. Then she laughed again for she saw that was how she was with Bert Jones; with Jim she forgot, but with Bert she remembered. When she was with Bert it was like she had just stretched, then waked, then was full of purposes. But with Jim, it was like end of the day with him. Yes, she said, Bert's someone to work for, yes there's something in him she said in feeling and jumped out of bed.

Now Miss Gates and Mr Jones went out often together.

 

When they were out together once, after that, she saw clearly how
unjust her life at home was to her, staying in all day, 'I never see another girl but over the garden fence and all the housework to do, yes, sometimes I could sit down and cry. And look at old Craigan now,' she said, 'I get black looks from him every time I come in after being out with you, he wants me to go out with Jim you see. But women aren't what they were, I'm not going to stay in an 'arem of his making, we're educated now. Yes he's made it pretty plain he wants Jim and me to be married but 'e can keep me in all day if he likes but he won't pick my husband. You've no idea, the 'ouse has got to be shining, there can't be a speck of dust or he'll say "what's this my wench?" Yes, that's what he says.'

'He won't let you go out to work?'

'No, he won't 'ear of it, I've got to stay in and wear away the linoleum by scrubbing,' and she said she did not know how she'd stood it up to then. She went on talking when he, more to draw her sympathy on him, said wasn't all that much enjoyment in factories.

'Oh yes, and how would you like to stay in all day by yourself and keep a place tidy, you're like all men, and then when they give you the 'ouse-keeping money Friday night to have nothing but black looks,' and seeing all this clearly in her mind she was scornful with him. He too, then, began to be angry.

'But when we're married, won't...' he began but she sprang at his face and then it was like so many other of their walks over again.

Later, still exalted, she drew back from him and said, whispering, surely he would not expect her to be like those other women, 'you won't be like dad,' she said, 'that had never any idea of bettering himself. You wouldn't want me to slave all my life till I was a bag of bones.' She said she was not afraid of the work, yes she was used to that looking after three men, but she couldn't do it if she didn't believe there was nothing better coming, 'we shan't be like the others Bert?' and he said of course they wouldn't be, at the works he was a picked man already.

'Come on then,' she cried jumping up, holding out arms to him, 'I can't sit still.' He jumped up and she ran backwards at that, her head held back and her arms now behind her back. But running forward to catch her he fell full length, cutting his forehead slightly.

She sat cross-legged and making resting place for his head in her lap she spat on handkerchief and wiped cut on his forehead, disconsolate, wiping blood off his forehead. Then he was happier than he had ever been before.

 

They came into front room after supper.

'Have you caught a chill or something?' Mrs Tarver said to her husband.

'I don't know. I don't think I feel well.'

'You ought to be in bed.'

'The young chap came down today.'

'What young chap's that?'

'Where's your mind? Why, young Dupret. Doris' he said to only child, 'what have we got there?'

'Young Mr Dupret,' breathed Mrs Tarver and moved her chair nearer his. 'Darling' she said to the child, 'don't worry daddy now.'

'Don't talk to her like that mother, you'll upset the child. What's that you've got in your hands, answer your daddy.'

'It's only a toy ukulele she got at Mrs Smith's party, dear. What did he say to you? You ain't going to say he didn't see at once who was right, and the wrong.'

'I don't know. Here, Doris, come and sit on daddie's knee and show him the ukulele. Well, ain't you a ukulele lady now!'

'I am!'

'Johnikins you don't say you couldn't see him so's to get your word in first.'

'Yes I saw him.'

'What did he say?'

'He didn't say anything.'

'Didn't say anything? D'you mean to say.... Then what did he do?'

'Nothing. Well he did this. He took the man off they'd put by the lavatory door checking the men in and out.'

'Daddy, don't you like my uku – uku – ukulele?'

'Was that all he did?'

'Don't you like my ukulele, daddy?'

'Don't worry daddy now dear. Go and play over there and put the doll to bed. What did he do that for?'

'To please himself I suppose.'

'And didn't he give you another draughtsman?'

'No.'

'What did he say to you, then?'

'He had a lot of this educated jargon, I didn't understand much of it, though I got a bit nearer to it than old Bridges. He went on about what a fine looking chap – beautiful, that's the word he used – a man in the iron foundry was. I don't know how an iron moulder can be beautiful but there you are.'

'He must be a dandy though if that's all he thinks of in the works. I suppose he 'as ladies trailing round him once he gets home, and a lot of good they'll do him.'

'He's soft.'

'But did you go through the works with him?'

'No, I was coming through the iron foundry from the fettling shop when I ran into him and the old man.'

'And didn't you speak to him?'

'Of course I spoke to him, what d'you think I am?'

'Johnikins, why don't you tell me something?'

'What can I tell you? I was there for about five minutes and he went back to the offices and turned round to me – "I'll come along and see you before I go" lardida he said and went into the old man's room. So I waited for him in my department and the next thing I knew was the noise of him going off in 'is Bentley.'

'Then how d'you think it was him who took the man away from there?'

'Ah that's where I come in. I sent down Bumpus to get some stamps in the outside office and to look about him and make eyes at the girls when all of a sudden out bursts the old squire right up in the air and behind him was the young fellow saying – "but come Mr Bridges it's nothing very terrible" (fancy saying that to the old squire!) "it's nothing very terrible, surely, such a small thing, lavatories..." and then he banged the door right in the young chap's face and went off. Bumpus comes back to tell me and the first thing I did was to get up to go and catch him in there with the old devil out of the way, when I hear the noise of his car. I run to the window and there's the young chap driving himself away.'

'Did he? What d'you say to that?'

'I don't know.'

'So he didn't come up and see you after all?'

'Doris, come and play to Daddy on your ukulele, daddie's tired.'

'Leave the child alone, do, you'll be the death of her. What d'you
think? Didn't he say nothing about another draughtsman?'

'Not a word.'

'Well he's crossed old Bridges in one thing, and that's to the good, the old scarecrow.'

'Yes, but what do we know went on else. He was there some time, must have been. And if he'd crossed the old man before then the old scarecrow would have been out of the room before that and Bumpus would have seen him. You can depend on his always rushing out when he's crossed.'

 

'I see they've took the man off from there,' nodding to lavatory door said Mr Tupe to Mr Bentley.

'They had to.'

'Why's that?'

'They were made to' Bentley heavily said. 'As soon as ever I saw a man put on there I said that's a thing a woman won't stand. I 'ad that factory inspector in me mind's eye. I thought to myself she'd never stand for it. And she didn't, that's why he's suspended.'

'But she 'asn't been through, not since that man was put on. 'Er angel feet've not crossed our thres-bloody-'old.'

'She must've 'eard then.'

'Well if you wan't to know, the young feller took 'm off. And the more's the pity I say.'

'Young Dupret?'

'That's 'im. Now it'll be the old story again, 'alf an hour's work and then twenty-one minutes in there for a smoke and a chat. They've got no conscience to the firm or to theirselves.'

'As the fly said to the spider. Of all the dirty swine – excuse my saying so – you're one of them. And if it was young Dupret 'e was made to.'

' 'E wasn't, 'e did it on 'is own from what I can 'ear of it. Probably 'e was 'alf witted enough to suppose 'e was pleasing mangy young Russian tykes like you.'

'I wonder at a man of your age swallowing what you swallow.'

'Speaking of beer' Mr Tupe said genially 'I could get down twice what you'd had after you couldn't drink no more, when your head was communing with the stars: if you'd care to try any night, you paying the drinks?'

 

'My poor old man, how are you?' Mrs Dupret said coming into sick room, 'how do you feel in yourself?'

Mr Dupret lay propped up on pillows. He related how his nurse had told him that he was 'naughty to ring so often and should be spanked.' Courageously he made a comedy out of it.

Mrs Dupret asked what tip should be given to this nurse when she had packed her things, for her one line of original research was into the question of tips. Mr Dupret decided at once and when his wife said surely not so little, since Archie, when he was ill, and had had a nurse for about the same period, had given her quite six shillings more he said no, he would give her that amount and no less. She said how very interesting that was to her. He said she would call him mean perhaps but she said not the least bit in the world, only it was so fascinating what tips people gave. The most absurd person of course was Proust, she said – her voice hazed with wonder. He had given enormous tips, big, huge, it was fantastic, she said sitting down by the bed, he had thought nothing of giving 200 francs to a waiter who brought his, his – well any little thing, but then he was not a gentleman she murmured, enviously almost. For what she wanted most in the world sometimes was to give huge tips but had never dared, she thought the waiter might take her for an actress. (She was of that generation of women which still feared actresses.)

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