Alfie (18 page)

I stood on this red carpet outside the door and I rang the bell. Yes, finally, those two old crows got out of the lift and let it go. For a minute I got a little sinking feeling in case Ruby might be out, but I listened against the door and I could just hear the sound of the radio on. I felt a right ponce, standing there holding this bunch of flowers, so when she didn’t open the door at once I gave the bell a long ring so that she’d know certain for sure it was me. The next thing I hear her voice from behind the door.

‘Who is it?’ she called out.

Not ‘Is that you, Alfie?’ but ‘Who is it?’ ‘It’s me, Rube,’ I called. ‘I thought I’d give you a surprise visit.’

‘Alfie!’ she said. ‘You couldn’t have come at a worse time. I’ve got one of my headaches.’

Now if there’s one thing I do detest it’s a woman who suffers from headaches – I mean alot. I mean whilst she’s got the headache. It’s something they should keep to themselves. Not that Ruby had many. In fact, this was the first so far as I was concerned.

‘Well open the bloody door,’ I said.

‘I tell you I’m no use to anybody,’ she said. But she opened the door. She was wearing a dressing-gown and I could see she’d nothing on underneath. Her hair was all over the place, and to be quite frank she wasn’t exactly the picture I’d been painting in my mind of her. To come 
out straight, she looked dead blowsy. Not that I minded; I’ve got a weakness for blowsy women. They seem to be living in a more natural state.

‘Oh, hello, Alfie,’ she said. ‘I thought you said you were going to Ascot. I’ve a terrible attack of migraine. My poor head is splitting.’

‘Don’t worry, gal,’ I said. ‘I’m not coming in, just brought you these.’ And I handed her the flowers.

She took them with a look of surprise, pulled the paper away, and looked at them, and her whole face changed in front of my eyes. ‘Oh what a nice thought!’ she said, ‘but they’re beautiful!’ It seems she can’t believe her own eyes. Funny how birds love flowers. I wouldn’t give a thank-you if they brought me Kew Gardens in a basket. ‘You take a few Aspros, gal,’ I said, ‘and rest yourself in a dark room with a cold wet cloth over your eyes. That’s the answer for that little lot.’

‘I will,’ she said. ‘Oh thanks, Alfie,’ and she leant forward and gave me a little kiss on the lips. ‘I never thought I’d live to see the day,’ she whispered, and her little eyes were full of promise for the future when her headache would have gone.

‘You live an’ learn,’ I said. ‘Well, so long, Rube.’ I had a feeling I didn’t want to hang about. In fact I could feel the little man on my shoulder urging me to scarper.

‘Good-bye, Alfie,’ she said. ‘Give me a ring tomorrow. I’ll be all right then.’

‘Sure,’ I said. ‘We might have an early session.’ Just as she’s closing the door a thought struck me. ‘Here, Rube,’ I said, ‘you haven’t twenty-five quid handy, have you?’ 

‘Twenty-five pounds!’ she said.

‘Forget it,’ I said. If there’s one thing I can’t bear it’s asking for something and seeing them hesitate. I mean it’s bad enough having to ask.

‘Don’t get huffy,’ she said. ‘Do you need it badly?’

‘I need it,’ I said, ‘or I wouldn’t ask. But not all that badly. It’s only till tomorrow.’

‘Wait there,’ she said. ‘I’ll get it. I’ll not be a tick.’

I grabbed her wrist: ‘Don’t think that was why I brought you the roses—’ I said.

‘I never gave it a thought,’ she said.

‘A pony is neither here nor there to me,’ I said. ‘It’s just that I want to give somebody something – and if I don’t do it today I’ll never do it.’

‘I understand,’ she said. ‘Wait there—’

I got hold of her arm again: ‘Listen, Rube,’ I said, ‘I’ve got something important I’d like to talk over with you soon. But not whilst you’ve a headache.’

‘I see,’ she said. She looked at the roses: ‘They are lovely. I’ll not be a tick. Oh my head—’ She went in and I thought to myself: she’s a good sort is Rube. Yes, I’ll definitely settle down with her one way or another. Sunday noons, wearing one of these foulard silk neckerchiefs under an open-necked Viyella shirt, cavalry twill trousers – or a nice Cheviot or grey Saxony – and a pair of Tricker’s benchmade suede shoes, handing out the gin cocktails and Manhattans to the guests. I’ll bet I could get away with it. I’d just have to polish up the old chat a bit – nothing more.

Just then I heard the lift stopping, and as I didn’t want to be seen standing there in the corridor, I just nudged myself inside the door. I could see Ruby in the bedroom looking in a drawer. Then the next thing I saw another door opening. It was the bathroom. That’s funny, I thought. Then I saw one bloke come out. He was a big geezer, and he had one of Ruby’s coloured bath towels all round him. He was all steaming like he’s just got out of the bath. There was something what they call familiar about him, but I couldn’t just place him at once. ‘Is that you, Alfie?’ he said.

Big Lofty! I’d never noticed what enormous broad shoulders he had, and his hair was all curly being wet.

‘Hy, Loft,’ I said.

‘How’re things?’ he said.

‘Not bad,’ I said. ‘Not bad at all. The United are not doing as well this season.’ Knowing he came from near Manchester and was a keen supporter I thought I’d take 
a dig. I could have come across with a better stroke – if I’d had my wits about me. I think I set him back a bit – I mean turned his mind to football.

Ruby came slowly out of the bedroom with the notes in her hand. I suppose she thought it was no use hurrying now the damage was done. She looked at Lofty as though she’d like to crown him. But in a way I suppose I was the one to blame for going inside. That’s a slip you should never make. Always leave a bird a way out. Come to think of it I must have sensed it all along. A man’s feelings are often sharper than his mind.

‘Who told you to come out?’ she said.

‘I told myself,’ he said.

‘Well, tell yourself to get back in,’ she said, ‘you great big ugly nit.’

‘I got tired of waiting in the bath for you, Ruby,’ he said. He’d put that one in for me.

‘Shut your effin’ mouth,’ she said. ‘And get back inside. Don’t stand there – you’re ruining my carpet.’ She turned to me: ‘I’m sorry, Alfie – I can’t tell you how sorry I am,’ she said.

‘Do me a favour!’ I said. ‘You don’t think I didn’t know!’

She made to slip me the money but I didn’t take it. Same as I say, I didn’t have my wits about me.

‘You’re not going off, Alfie, are you?’ said Lofty.

‘I thought I would be,’ I said. I felt a bit leaden in the feet though. It seemed I couldn’t get moving.

Now he had started off putting the knife in; he’d come out of the bathroom for that purpose, but halfway 
through his act it seems his feelings or something have suffered a change.

‘Come on inside, mate,’ he said. ‘I know exactly how it feels. You must know that.’

I saw him come towards me. I never realised he was that big. I always feel there’s something just that bit horrible about big men, as though their glands or something have got out of hand. Or perhaps it’s my imagination. They can’t have much sense – not and grow that size. You’ve either got to run for it, I told myself, or else there’ll be only one other thing: you’ll have to kick him in the cobblers. Now I don’t mind running – but this time I didn’t. Old Lofty had his arm out and I told myself: it’s now or never! When just then I spotted the look in his eyes. He wasn’t after me to get me. He felt sorry for me!

‘Don’t take it like that, Alfie,’ he said. ‘What’s done is forgotten. Come on in – there’s enough for both of us. Enough of everything.’ And he patted old Ruby on the backside.

Know what, he carried it off without it looking the least bit kinky. I saw from the new look on Ruby’s face that she wouldn’t mind if I did go in and we all had a session. Just for the moment I’ll admit I was tempted. It’s always nicer to join in than go off on your own. But on second thoughts I decided not. I wondered in my mind could he be just a bit bent. I don’t know what it is about me, but anything like that seems to put me right off.

‘Sorry, Lofty,’ I said, ‘but I’ve got to be going. As a matter of fact I have other fish to fry.’ 

‘Alfie,’ said Ruby, coming right up to me, ‘you know how it is. He told me about this Annie. Now what else had you to tell me?’

I couldn’t think of an answer just then, so I gave her the old Victory sign, although I was sorry as soon as my fingers went up. Why should I do a thing like that? Then off I went along the corridor. I don’t know what they clean the carpets with but they seem to smell of shaving cream. Coming down in the lift I thought to myself: you know what you are, Alfie, you’re a right bleeding innocent.

I must have got back to my place towards six o’clock. The streets seemed suddenly to be dead quiet, except for some church bells that were pealing out. I went in and I tiptoed up the stairs to my drum. I didn’t want to be seen or heard. Now when I opened the door inside was all so silent and still, and it was going a bit darkish, and I caught this faint smell of Dettol, and of blood or something, that the first thought that crossed my mind was that something had gone wrong and Lily had snuffed it.

I was thankful to see she hadn’t. She was lying stretched out there on the sofa, and her eyes were closed. And to be quite frank, you could have even took her for dead then. She wasn’t sleeping or anything and she wasn’t making any sound, she was just lying there, and when I went across the room to her she just opened her eyes and looked up at me. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t even look as though she hated me, or had anything against 
me, for how I’d gone off and left her. She just looked at me as though I was something and nothing. It seemed an effort even to lift her eyelids. Then she slowly closed them again, just like that. I could see at a glance it was all over. The look on her face was quite different. In fact I could sense it in the air, if you see what I mean. Still, I had to make sure. And you’ve got to say something.

‘Everything all right now?’ I said.

‘Everything all right?’ she said. ‘Yes, everything’s all right.’ She hesitated and then she tried to rise: ‘I must get up,’ she said. ‘There’s something I didn’t do. I must do it now.’

‘Hold on a minute, gal,’ I said, ‘I’ll make you a cup of char first. I expect you could do with one.’ I mean she looked so white, her skin so waxy, and somehow she seemed to have lost a lot of weight. I’d never given it a thought that a thing like that would knock so much out of a woman.

‘No, don’t!’ she said. I was taken aback to hear her speak so sharp, and so loud. ‘I don’t want you to—’

‘OK,’ I said. ‘OK. I won’t bother.’ I mean if they won’t accept a kindness it doesn’t do to force it on them. As I made for the kitchen – I thought I’d have a good wash and freshen up – she got up.

‘Don’t go in there,’ she said.

‘Why not?’ I said. ‘What’s up?’

‘I don’t want you to go in,’ she said.

‘Why not?’ I said.

‘I have some cleaning up to do,’ she said. ‘Don’t go in.’ 

‘You leave it all to me, gal,’ I said, ‘it’s no trouble.’

After all, what was there to it, a little bit of mopping up. And she looked as though she hadn’t the strength to bend down. For the minute I thought she was going to jump up and stop me. Then it seemed she came over faint or something because she rested herself back on the sofa. She may have had a change of mind, for she spoke as if she couldn’t care less, and anything I did was on my own head.

‘Right, go in then,’ she said, ‘if you must.’

She kept her eyes on me. I went in where it must all have happened to her. And I closed the door behind me. 

Now, I’ve gone into that room, and things don’t seem so bad there. Well, the one first thought behind my mind was that I didn’t want any evidence left lying round. I suppose it was fear – fear for my own skin. Do a job yourself and you know it’s done well. Then suddenly I’ve seen something and I’ve had the shock of my life. I mean I’ve come upon this
thing
– I mean, this child. I don’t care what anybody says, that’s what it was. It was so small, yet so real, see, not fully grown, yet so beautifully shaped, and so human. All I was expecting to see – well I don’t rightly know what I was expecting – but certainly not this perfectly formed little being – this infant. Nobody had ever told me about those things. I had to stoop down and pick it up, see, for it was lying on this little white napkin where Lily had put it. And as I brought it up under my gaze I half expected it to cry out. It was so identical to a living baby. It didn’t cry out of course – it couldn’t have done, it could never have
had life in it. I mean proper separate life of its own. It must have had some life, the life God gave it, see. And the way it lay there, so silent, so still, quite touched me. I thought,
I’m your Dad
. Now it’s strange I should think a thing like that at a time like that, but it’s exactly what I did think. I held him in my hands, see, and I had this feeling:
This is my son, and I’m one of them that has done this to him
. And the more it comes to me that he’s dead, and will never breathe the breath of life again, the closer he feels to me as my son, if you see what I mean.

Now after that first shock, I had this job to do, of getting rid of it. I didn’t want to – Oh Jesus, I didn’t want! – but I
had
to. I had no choice. This is what life does to you, I’m thinking, it forces you into a corner, and you’ve got to do things you don’t want to do. Now as I’m doing it, forcing myself to get rid of this innocent little thing, I start praying or something. Just letting words come off my tongue. And I could hear myself saying, ‘
Christ help me
’ and things like that, and the next thing I’m crying. Straight up, tears are rushing out of my eyes, and running down my face. I’d forgot how salty tears taste when they pour out of you. Not for him I wasn’t crying. Nah, he was past it. I was crying for my poor bleeding self. I felt that lost and helpless all of a sudden, see. I’ll tell you one thing – it don’t half bring it home to you what you are and what you have done when you see a helpless little thing like that lying in front of you in your own hands. You try to tell yourself that it’s happening all over the world – that it happens at some time or other to everybody – 
but somehow talk don’t work at that moment.

Then I think how he had been quite perfect, and the thought crossed my mind:
You know what you did, Alfie, you murdered him
. I mean what a stroke for the mind to come out with, a thing like that.
Yes, mate, you set it all up and for thirty nicker you had him done to death
. And then it struck me that the main idea in my head had been how to get it done a fiver cheaper. That’s all I’d been thinking of when Lily arrived.

Now I find I can’t get that thought out of my mind – how I had fixed it up to have him done to death. So then I’ve gone and put my head under the cold water tap. I thought where the tears had been wouldn’t show if I did that. And I had a good wash with carbolic soap to freshen up. Then at last, when I’ve got control of myself, and I’ve swallowed everything down, I mean all the thoughts and feelings and things, the lot, and I’m just finishing drying myself off, a funny thing happened.

You know how you sometimes hear sounds, and you take no notice of them – well I can hear
a
little baby crying
. So I stop and listen, and sure enough, no mistake, I could hear this crying. Quite distinct it was. Well, there was no kid in sight anywhere, and there’s no infant in the house, so I reckoned it couldn’t have been a child. But I stood there and listened, and on and on it went. I thought it might have been the wind outside, see, moaning or something, you know the way it does. But there was no wind. But I shut the window tight to keep it out and make sure. But that didn’t stop it. Then it struck me it could be the water in the pipes. You often get those 
things making noises. So I shut the tap off dead hard to be certain. Yet it still kept on in my ear, this baby crying. So I decided it must be the imagination, and on and on it went, wailing and wailing away, as if it would go on wailing to the end of my days.