Loving, Living, Party Going (35 page)

Mr Dupret said Jews had brought the Continent to a ridiculous state with extravagant tipping, that was why he would never go abroad. 'I know dear,' she said. But he went on that it was really to spare her the anxiety of having to give them, he said she knew she never slept the night before moving out of a hotel abroad, and to spare her the disappointment when ten per cent was added to the bill so that there were no tips.

'I've got such a clever book here for you dear' she said, 'it's called
Lenin and Gandhi.
You ought to read it.' He put it down by the side of the bed.

'There's a thing in it which I thought so amusing darling,' she said 'which is where he says the Brahmins or Hindus, one of those people I don't know which, sit for whole half hours saying the same word over and over again. Of course it's very unkind, but it's so like Dickie when he's in love.' She said didn't he know that Dickie was starting another affair and Mr Dupret said another one? and she
said yes, a girl called Glossop, a very nice girl from all she could make out, 'but very dull, I'm afraid, like all Dick's young ladies.' There was a certain stage in all his affairs when he sat and repeated to himself over and over again darling, darling, darling, like that, so like those old men squatting on the mountains. Mr Dupret laughed 'ho, ho!' Then he asked how she knew. 'Why the darling' she said 'he always tells me in spite of himself all those things like that about his girls. Then he has to go and make out a reason for his having told me so he shan't seem to have given himself away without meaning to. He is rather a darling, isn't he, Jack?'

'He's a nice boy but he's very silly still' said Mr Dupret. 'He's got no head.'

Mrs Dupret said she thought he wouldn't marry for another nine years at least but now her husband was bored and began to give instructions, summoning people and sending them off, all on business, and he dismissed Mrs Dupret. Going away she thought how nice it had been and still was while he lay ill though he wasn't really ill now any more of course, he was just pretending and it was high time he got about again. But how nice it had been, she had seen so much more of him since he had hurt his shoulder, usually he was working when he wasn't asleep. He worked all day.

She marvelled at the correctness of the tip he had decided on for that nurse, and to decide at once like that, he had a genius for tips, she thought. She went to get ready before going out.

But still, poor old man she thought, there was something about it which she didn't altogether like. His staying in bed like that made her uneasy. And when the doctors said there was nothing the matter with him now, why didn't he get up?

Again, some other morning, she was in his bedroom and they were talking about young Mr Dupret, Dick, and she said how she had seen this girl Hannah Glossop several times again and that she was giving a dinner party for her soon, though of course the party was not to look as though it were hers; Hannah – from talking about her to Dickie she called her Hannah now – would just, to all appearances, be one of the other girls.

Mr Dupret was listless and asked how Dick was getting on with the Dupret and son business and his wife said she thought he was so interested. Why was it, she asked him, that all this time he had not
once asked after that 'side' when he had been managing all his other interests from his bed. He answered that he had decided to give him a free run of the place till he got back to work again, 'there is nothing like the actual experience for teaching you' he said and that when he got back he intended altering every single alteration the boy had made 'just to show him.'

Wasn't that rather cruel Mrs Dupret said, and he said no, of course not. For one thing, if he had done anything it was almost bound to be wrong, and then if you let them have all their own way, young men lost their keenness. After that he sank into a greater apathy and although he did not send her away, which was in itself, she thought, a sign that he was not right, she could hardly get anything out of him.

After Sunday dinner, when Lily Gates had cleared table and had put back on it bowl in which Mr Craigan kept tobacco, she said to those three what were they going to do that Sunday afternoon.

'Where are you goin'?' said Mr Dale.

'I'm not going anywhere.

'Aren't you goin' out?'

'I'm not goin' anywhere without you go.'

'Don't trouble about me' Mr Dale said. 'I'm used to that.'

'I didn't mean you particular, I meant all on you.'

'I'm stayin' in with me pipe,' Gates said half asleep. 'You go and get the beer.' Mr Craigan reached out and took wireless headphones which he fitted about his head.

'I thought you couldn't mean me,' said Mr Dale.

'No, I should think I couldn't.'

'But don't you put yourself out for us. You go on out.'

'I got nowhere to go.'

'What, ain't 'e waitin' for you at the corner?'

'Who's that?'

'Who's that!!' he said.

'Well what business is it of yours if 'e is?'

'I wouldn't keep 'im waitin'.'

'I tell you I'm not going out this afternoon.'

'Then what's it all about. 'Ad a lover's quarrel or what?'

She smiled at him and said what business was it of his and her smiling made him shout that most likely he had to take most of his
time keeping his other loves quiet. Dropping voice he said people of that sort which took other people's girls from them, were not content with one only, they had several, wife in every port and married women some of them most likely, he said, voice rising. Still she smiled when, jumping up, he said he would give her smack across that smile. Craigan took off headphones then and said 'you go and get the beer Lil.' When she had shut door behind her he said to Dale to leave her alone. Mr Gates slept noisily in chair.

Mr Dale sat down. He leant towards fire which made room thick hot. They said-nothing for a time. He looked up then towards Mr Craigan and said:

'I've been thinkin' I'd better change my lodgings.'

'You'll do nothing of the kind' Craigan said.

Again was silence.

'It makes it awkward for me' he said 'staying 'ere.'

Mr Craigan said nothing. Dale kicked Joe Gates: 'Joe' he said 'I've been thinkin' I ought to look out for other lodgings. Our wench and me don't seem to 'it it off any more, Joe.'

Mr Gates looked at Mr Craigan. Craigan said:

'You'll stay 'ere Jim.'

Dale kicked fender and upset poker which clattered and crashed on floor.

'I won't stand by and see 'er marry Bert Jones.'

'I can't stand by and see that feller go off with Lil' he said later. 'If her likes 'im better'n me well then let 'er 'ave 'im but I'm not goin' to be there to watch it.'

'I'm telling you she'll not marry Bert Jones' said Mr Craigan and again was silence and furtively Mr Gates watched Mr Craigan. Then Craigan said to Mr Dale: 'You go on off out, Jim, don't sit moping inside.'

'That's right' said Joe Gates. 'Lord love me, you ain't jealous of 'im are you? 'Im?!! Why 'e's nothing more than something to look at, though 'e's as ugly as your backside. But 'e's got no use to 'imself. You didn't ought to worry yourself about him. An' talkin' about women, the times I 'ad with 'er mother before we was married. Why if any dago stopped in the street her was after 'im.'

Taking hat Mr Dale went out of the house. He took a different way from where she had gone to fetch beer. Those two sat and said nothing. Then Gates said:

'I've a mind to 'ave it out with 'er.'

'You sit still.'

'She wants a good clout. You do it then.'

'If you touch 'er I'll break the poker 'cross yer legs.'

Mr Gates stayed silent then and Mr Craigan said no more. But he did not put headphones back on his head so later Gates said:

'Without meanin' any offence, what d'you think on it?' but Craigan did not answer and little later Mr Gates slept again. Mr Craigan sat on. With thinking he forgot what was to have been greatest treat, concert from Berlin.

Then, one morning in iron foundry, Arthur Jones began singing. He did not often sing. When he began the men looked up from work and at each other and stayed quiet. In machine shop, which was next iron foundry, they said it was Arthur singing and stayed quiet also. He sang all morning.

He was Welsh and sang in Welsh. His voice had a great soft yell in it. It rose and rose and fell then rose again and, when the crane was quiet for a moment, then his voice came out from behind noise of the crane in passionate singing. Soon each one in this factory heard that Arthur had begun and, if he had two moments, came by iron foundry shop to listen. So all through that morning, as he went on, was a little group of men standing by door in the machine shop, always different men. His singing made all of them sad. Everything in iron foundries is black with the burnt sand and here was his silver voice yelling like bells. The black grimed men bent over their black boxes.

When he came to end of a song or something in his work kept him from singing, men would call out to him with names of English songs but he would not sing these. So his morning was going on. And Mr Craigan was glad, work seemed light to him this morning who had only three months before he got old age pension, he ought to work at his voice he said of him in his mind and kept Joe Gates from humming tune of Arthur's songs.

Every one looked forward to Arthur's singing, each one was glad when he sang, only, this morning, Jim Dale had bitterness inside him like girders and when Arthur began singing his music was like acid to that man and it was like that girder was being melted and bitterness and anger decrystallized, up rising up in him till he was
full and would have broken out – when he put on coat and walked off and went into town and drank. Mr Craigan did not know he was gone till he saw he did not come back.

Still Arthur sang and it might be months before he sang again. And no one else sang that day, but all listened to his singing. That night son had been born to him.

And now time is passing.

Mr Dupret had fallen into a greater apathy, nor was there anything which pleased him now. Nor was he ever angry.

Nothing interested him. Mr Dupret had sent for his friends. Those who came he recognized and they talked to him but he could find no answer to their questions or anything in their conversation which would rouse him.

The days come and then the evening, morning papers are hawked about, last editions of the evening papers are sold in the night while men sit writing morning papers. It rained. The summer was passing. Young Dupret would go into the sick room but while old Mr Dupret recognized him and once or twice thought of what he could say, he never arrived at wishing him more than good morning. If he came in the evening as soon as he was in the room old Mr Dupret said 'goodnight' and if he ignored this then the old man would lie with eyelids shut over his eyes. And his wife was treated in the same way.

Then Mrs Dupret had him moved to the house in the country. Young Mr Dupret used to come down for the weekends. Doctors came and went. Electrical treatment was given him, many other remedies were tried, even the most strikingly beautiful nurses were found to tend him, once a well-known courtesan was hired for the night, but the old man still showed no interest and little irritation; he said good-morning to his wife, son, doctors and nurses, goodnight to the harlot.

Lines came out on his wife's face. He never mentioned the City or his interests, whenever he spoke it was about the needs of his body. He spoke of no more than these to the nurses, it is not known for certain if he spoke to the harlot. No one could find the face to be present when she was introduced into his room. He had constantly, before his illness, betrayed his wife and she had known it. Nothing really was simpler for her or more natural in such an emergency
than to arrange for the lady to come down, what was odd was the doctor of that particular moment allowing it. Mrs Dupret could have no official knowledge of her coming, she could not see her and had to invent many ruses that the servants might not know.

Richard had to receive this lady and show her to the bedroom, and he stood outside with the doctor and one of the nurses. The doctor insisted on standing close to the door as he said he feared 'the possible effects' upon a man of Mr Dupret's age, but his son stood further away, lost in embarrassment, particularly as the nurse seemed nervous and insisted on standing by him. After thirty minutes the lady reappeared. She lit a cigarette. The doctor said 'well' in a threatening voice and she answered that nothing has passed between them, she had done everything in her power, had done her utmost, she was ready to try again although she had packed up her things in her suitcase and if they liked they could go in with her and see for themselves, (she was plainly intimidated by the doctor and cast imploring glances at young Dupret), but she insisted that all he had said was goodnight and then he had shut eyelids over his eyes, 'the good baby' she said.

Some time passed before young Mr Dupret could recover from his surprise at this visit. To his friends in London he talked with horror about the cynical attitude of older women towards sex. There was so much horror in the tone of his voice that his friends asked themselves what could have happened to him and talked of it to each other. But while he soon recovered his old assurance it was some time before he could go into his father's room. Secretly he was annoyed that his mother had not asked him for his opinion, and for the rest of his life he spoke with venom of doctors.

So nobody knew what the old man thought, though everyone was certain that his brain was still working. A submarine is rammed and sinks. It lies for days upon the bed of the ocean and divers tap out messages to it and the survivors tap out answers to the divers, asking for oxygen and food. Above, on the surface of the ocean men work frantically but the day grows on into the evening, night falls, there is another day, another night, and as everyone realizes gradually that they cannot hope to raise the submarine in time, their efforts are not so frantic, they take a little longer over what they do. In the same way fresh doctors were still fetched to Mr Dupret, but no daring experiments were expected of them. They all said very
much the same, that his frame was worn out and that only complete rest might bring him out of his illness. More they did not say and Mrs Dupret though she had never been very fond of him, was now thinking how very fond of him she was.