The band comes in. One after the other. I try and comprehend the undulating mass of ivory in front of my eyes. My fingers can't keep up with themselves.
Ron is playing his solo. Don leans over to me.
If you can't do any better than that, pack it in.
I stop playing.
Sod you all, I say.
I get up and stagger from the stand. The place where Keith and Janet had been standing is now occupied by Angela, who is obstinately wearing a tarty tight shimmering number instead of fancy dress. I make for her.
Now then Vicky. Enjoying it?
See Janet?
Janet who?
You must tell me. Where is she?
Oh, you mean Janet Walker. I thought you were bringing her tonight?
Stop it, Angela. Have you seen her?
She smiles, then furrows her brow in mock concentration.
Well now, I saw her a few minutes ago. Now where was she?
Come on for God's sake.
My, aren't we in a sweat. Aren't we just. Take a tip, Vicky. She was never for you. Not in her class. She's too nice for you. She knows it. Everybody else does too.
I'm asking you Angela. I'm asking you.
Well all right. You're too late Vicky. She went off with Keith Rushton.
Where?
They went outside.
Blind panic leads me to the door. I open it. This can't happen I say to myself.
I stand at the top of the college steps. There is a group of figures on the steps below me. Yobs. They are passing a bottle around. Several bottles are strewn at the bottom of the steps, some smashed. They are the yobs who tried to get into the dance.
I stand there looking at them. Then I begin to walk down the steps. Janet, I think, don't be with him, don't let him touch you.
One of the yobbos turns to me. He is little and looks full of spite.
Hey up lads. One of the Mr bleedin' clever students.
I carry on walking down the steps. I draw level with him and he pushes me viciously in the chest. I sway backwards but somehow remain upright.
Where the bleedin' hell do you think you're off then?
His face twists with a quick hatred. I can smell the whisky on his mouth. I look at him.
Get out of the sodding way, I say.
His friends move closer.
I asked you a question, pansy boy. I want an answer or do you want to be here all night?
Don't push it, yobbo. Don't push it.
My words sound clear in the near-empty road. The cold air seems to have improved my vision a little.
Listen to pansy boy. You all think you're so much bleedin' better than us lot don't you. Won't let us come into their pansy dance, will you?
He pushes me in the chest again.
Don't put you're stinking hands on me again you little yob. Grow a bit first.
Give him one, Terry, says a voice coming from a dark face in the background.
Yeah, give him summat, says another of them.
I only want my girl, I say. That's all I want and if you don't get out of my way, I'll push your snotty nose around to the back of your mucky neck.
There is silence. Everyone stands still. A taxi cruises softly past.
You heard him Terry. Give it him.
Terry puts down his bottle.
I only want my girl, I say.
Come on then, says Terry. Come an' find her.
I make a move forward. Terry pushes me in the chest with all his might. I reel back but somehow gain momentum in going forward again and my eyes see nothing but hate-tinged vermilion and my fist hits Terry as hard as it can in his mouth. His hands go to his face and a fist belonging to somebody else clangs me on the side of my head knocking me off my feet. I hit the steps chest first and start sliding down towards the bottom. I feel the boots begin to go in, accelerating my demise but I don't feel much pain. My arms are stretched forward and the edges of the steps graze my wrists. Then my hands jaringly come to a stop at the bottom, I feel something sharp in my left hand. I try to pull it away but one of them bends down and punches me in the back. The sharpness increases. Somehow I manage to get to my feet and I look at my hand. One of them punches me on the side of my head again, in the same place as before, but I am too interested in my hand to fall down. It is covered in blood.
Eh up, I say, Give over a minute.
The one who had just punched me looks at my hand.
Jesus Christ, he says. The bastard's bleeding to death.
They all stand still.
I have put my hand on a broken bottle. I can't feel any pain but I am bleeding badly. I stand looking at it.
Now you can give him it, Terry.
No, pack it in, Tone, says the one that punched my head. It might be trouble for us. Let's clear off.
Yeah, let's clear off. Quick.
Bloody hell, I say. Look at it.
They start moving away. Terry walks past me holding his nose and holding back frustrated tears. He suddenly goes for me, but the one who suggested they clear off grabs him and holds him off.
Come on Terry. Come on. Don't be a prick.
I'll kill the bastard. I'll kill him.
Come on Terry. You want coppers dropping on you, do you? He's bleeding.
They disappear. I see my top hat lying on the pavement. I pick it up and put it over my hand. I walk up the steps and sit down between the two columns with my back to the main doors. I can hear the band sounding miles away inside the building.
Where's Janet? I say. Where's Janet. Where's Janet. Where's Janet.
Suddenly I can't stand it any longer. I open the small door set in one of the big ones and stagger inside. I can't seem to hear anything very well. Everything seems far away. Where is she?
Rudge is at the ticket table.
Are you all right? he asks. I expect you've been round the back and I'll have it to clean up tomorrow.
He doesn't notice my hand. I still have my hat over it. I am holding the hat so that no blood drips out of it.
Seen Janet?
Seen who?
Have you?
I stagger past him and up the stairs and into one of the architect's studios which is being used as the buffet. I stand in the doorway, swaying. I feel the hat slip off my hand. I don't care. I can't see Janet. Some people near the door turn and look at me and a girl gasps loudly. I turn and begin running down the wide stone stairs very quickly and I am almost overbalancing forwards as I run I am too close to the wall and my arm catches the frame of a print which has been lent by the V. and A. museum. It begins to fall from the wall. I catch another one and the first picture hits the stone steps in an explosion of glass and begins following me in my flight down the stairs. The second picture crashes to the stone and cartwheels on its edge past me. At the bottom of the stairs, the Mayor and his wife, and the Sheriff and the Sheriff's lady and the Principal of the College and the head of the Painting Department are about to enter the Hall to judge the fancy dress competition, but something above them on the stairs appears to have attracted their attention. The small door in the main doors into the college opens and Janet and Jenny and Alex and Keith and Tony come in wearing their top-coats. They all stop and look at me. I finally gain too much on myself and I fall down the remaining few steps onto the marble floor. I can hear the picture that was following me down the steps come to rest somewhere nearby. The cool tiles feel nice against my face. I can hear Don announcing the next number.
“And now fellers and lassies we're gonna play âNobody Knows You When You're Down and Out.'”
I smile to myself. Everybody knows me when I'm down and out I think. Then that's all.
We walked along Allen byroad. Jerry Coward and Janet supported me on either side. My hand was hurting and the night was bitterly cold. Snow was starting to fall in the empty streets. We were on our way to the Infirmary.
My mind was working in a stream of consciousness, in a way trying to atone for what had gone before. I was talking to Janet. Jerry's presence in no way acted as a censor.
“I didn't know where you were. I'd no idea. You weren't there and it was my fault and I thought you'd gone off with Tony or someone, I don't know. And then Angela said you were outsideâ”
“I'd only gone to the Wimpy Bar for a coffee with Keith and the others. I didn't know what to think. You looked at me as though you hated me.”
“I know, I know. I don't know what got into me. I just seemed to go crazy for a while, and then Angela said you were outside and made it seem as though, you know . . . and said everybody knew that you thought you were too good for me...”
“God, that girl...”
“I know and anyway then I went outside and there were these Teds and this Terry...”
“Do you hurt very much Vic?”
“Well... I'm beginning to feel it.”
“It's not much farther,” said Jerry.
“Yeah, right Jerry. I'll be all right. I'll be all right.”
“I didn't know what to do,” said Janet. “Your expression was so ugly. I went over to Keith. I like Keith. He's practically the only one I talk to in my year and so I told him. I asked him what I should do.”
“What did he say?”
“He likes you, you know. He really does. He told me I just had to leave you alone for a while, and you would be all right. I didn't want to but he said I'd come back after I'd had a coffee and you'd be all right. So I went. I didn't want to. But you had no need to worry.”
“I know now. I was stupid. I was, the way I was to you. I just thought that you wouldn't want anything to do with me.”
The snow swirled around us. Although I hurt the feeling of her there and close to me obliterated everything else.
Snowflakes settled in our hair as we walked. The lights of the infirmary shone dimly through the quiet darkness.
“Here we arc Victor, mate,” said Jerry.
We went up the steps into the Infirmary. Janet waited outside in the reception hall while Jerry sat next to me and clinically watched the casualty nurse put nine stitches in my hand.
The first thing I remembered on coming round after falling down in front of the assembled company was sitting on a canvas chair and Jerry's voice saying:
“He's all right. Bugger off everybody. He'll be all right.”
I opened my eyes. Curious Stetson and feather-decorated heads bobbed round above me. I looked at my hand. It had some material round it and another hand on top of it. The hand was Janet's. She was sitting on a canvas chair next to me. I closed my eyes again.
“Right. He's awake now,” said Rudge's voice. “Now get the bleeder out of here.”
“Shut up,” said Janet in a flat voice.
“Get him out before the principal comes back and before I murder him.”
I opened my eyes.
“Yeah, all right, Rudge, all right. Give us a minute, will you?” said Jerry.
“You, you long haired piece ofâ”
“Throw him downstairs, Jerry,” shouted someone at the back. “Like you do at Steam Packet.”
Jerry ignored Rudge and the voice.
“Come on, Vic. Let's get you to the Infirmary. That hand's bad.”
I opened my eyes. Jerry's face was close to mine.
“He's going to get the lot when he comes back next term. I'll tell âem. The bleeder'll get chucked out, you'll see.”
“Shut your mouth, Rudgie.”
“You'll get it, too. You'll get it, too.”
Jerry straightened up and turned round to face Rudge in one quick movement. Jerry was thin but he was tall, about six foot. Rudge jumped slightly and moved himself a little farther away from Jerry. Somebody cheered. Jerry turned back to me and coaxed me out of my seat. My dull mind co-operated with every movement that Jerry's arms suggested. He and Janet supported me between them and guided me over to the door. None of the scene reacted on my mind. My eyes saw things but my brain could not interpret them.
“Don't bring him back,” shouted Rudge. “We don't want bleeders like him in here.”
We had trouble getting through the small inset door. I couldn't get my feet over the bottom edge.
Rudge walked quickly over to us. The crowd of onlookers stood behind him, watching every movement.
“Go on, get him out. Get him out of here.” He started bundling us through the door. Jerry began to step back through onto Rudge's side.
“No, Jerry. No, don't,” said Janet.
Jerry paused for a moment, undecided. Then he turned back, his face a mask of straining self-control.
“Come on. Let's get him to the Infirmary.”
Jerry watched the nurse put the stitches in.
“What happened, Jerry,” I asked. “I mean, how did the Big-Wigs react?”
“How do you expect? The principal's face was pretty black. Old Gordon seemed pretty amused though. I don't know, they all sort of stood there looking at you and the principal said to Rudge, cold as a fish, “See to him”, then they all carried on into the hall and judged the fancy dress.”
“What do you reckon will happen? I mean do you think I'll get chucked out?”
“Naw. You were only drunk.”
“What about the pictures?”
“They were all right. You'd only smashed the glass. They were our frames anyway.”
“Yes, I know, but Rudge may have known what he was talking about.”
“Naw. He was drunk himself. He was only blowing off for something to do. You know what he's like.”
“Yeah. Still.”
“Don't worry. You'll be all right.”
“You'd better kip down at my place,” said Jerry. “It's too far for you to go home.”
“Rose won't mind, will she?”
Jerry laughed. “Not unless you try and tom her. No, you can sleep on the settee. It's pretty big as you know and we've plenty of spare blankets and an eiderdown. It'll sleep two comfortably.”
“Two?”
“Yeah.”
“How do you mean?”
“What the hell are you talking about? You and Janet. You'll have plenty of room.”