Read The Complete Talking Heads Online

Authors: Alan Bennett

The Complete Talking Heads (18 page)

Mr Kumar comes by and says I have to call in at the office when it’s convenient. He smiles at the girl but she doesn’t take on. ‘I don’t care for Asians,’ she said when he’s gone. ‘Neither one thing nor the other in my opinion.’
I went along to the office straightaway only it turns out to be nothing. Parlane has got some new idea about chasing me up on the computer. He said, ‘I’m going to fax all your details over to Thorpe Arch, tell them Wakefield has been playing silly buggers (which they’re always happy to hear) and get them as a personal favour to me to beam you up nationally. And if that doesn’t work even Gordon Parlane is going to have to admit defeat.’
Coming out I ran into Mr Trickett. ‘Oh,’ he said spotting my buttonhole, ‘Picking flowers now, Paterson?’ I said somebody’d broken it off. He said, ‘I don’t know why we bother. They don’t want gardens, they want their hands chopping off. I’d decapitate them let alone the bloody daffodils.’ ‘Anyway,’ he said, ‘Get rid of it. It sends the wrong message.’
They were still hanging about when I went back. ‘Mr Hargreaves has lost his buttonhole,’ Debbie said and the kiddy starts crying only when I pick her up she stops.
On the way home I called in at the sweetshop.
FADE.
Some sort of institutional background, half green, half cream. Wilfred is unshaven, with no tie on.
Janet’s just been down, apparently. Left a clean vest and stuff at the desk. They said she wasn’t allowed to speak to me at this stage; she said she didn’t want to anyway.
It was the rain that did it because I’d given the bandstand a wide berth all week only Trickett comes into the yard this morning saying it was all flooded and wasn’t that typical, one drop of rain and the place grinds to a halt. Tells me to get some rods and try and locate the problem. So I trundle over there and it’s one of the grates that’s stopped up. And I’m just getting my arm down to feel what the stoppage was when Samantha comes running along by the railings and puts her little face through the bars.
I said, ‘Hello. Are you in prison?’ She said, ‘No. I’ve got an umbrella.’ And she shows me her baby umbrella.
Her mother’s all cross, pulls her away from the puddle and says, ‘Are you going to be here long? I’ve got to go and see my social worker woman. Can I leave her with you for half an hour? She likes you. She won’t be any bother.’ I said, ‘Why can’t she go with you?’ She said, ‘Because her dad’ll be there and if he sees her he’ll want to keep her. Go on.’
I was going to say no, only I didn’t have to because just then Mr Parlane appears and wants a word so they clear off, leaving me with my arm still down the drain. I suddenly feel the culprit and it’s two or three condoms all mixed up with leaves plugging up the pipe so I pull the lot out and all the dammed up water just empties away.
‘Success,’ I say to Mr Parlane and show him the bundle, ‘Problem solved.’ He said, ‘No, not entirely. Would you step along to the office for a minute or two. And bring your barrow.’
It was Trickett who gave me my cards, with one week’s pay in lieu, said I’d made several false statements so I’d better not have any silly ideas about wrongful dismissal and had I thought about bringing the Parks Department into disrepute let alone anything else.
Parlane hung about outside and when I came out said what about working in an old people’s home or even a mortuary, somewhere out of harm’s way, where I couldn’t do any damage. ‘Because you’re a good worker, Wilfred, you really are.’
I went out the playground way, empty with it being wet, just a woman and a baby. I think she’s a child minder. Only suddenly Samantha comes running out from behind the see-saw and gets hold of my hand. I said, ‘Where’s her mother?‘The woman said, ‘Gone over to the social. She said she’d be back by now. I’ve got to go, can I leave her with you?’ I said, ‘No.’ ‘Debbie said I could. She’ll be back any minute. Let her go on the slide. She likes the slide.’
She wouldn’t go on the slide because it was all wet, so we went and sat in the shelter. I put my hand on my knee and she put hers on top
of it, then I put mine on and she topped it off with her hand. And we played that game for a bit. Sandwiches she called it.
Then I pretended to go to sleep, only she got on the seat and tried to open my eyes with her little fingers. She kept wanting to hold my hand but I wouldn’t. Her little hand kept pecking at my hand, like a little bird trying to get in. Only my hand was a fist, honestly. Tight, she couldn’t get in.
‘There’s nothing in there for you,’ I said, ‘I don’t have anything for little girls. My shop’s closed.’ ‘No it’s not,’ she says and slips her little finger in between my fingers and wiggles it about and looks at me and laughs.
She laughs again. She knew what she was doing. She must have known what she was doing.
So I took her in the bushes.
FADE.
White tiles. Wilfred is in prison clothes; eye swollen; bandage on his hand.
I said, ‘She wanted to show me her dance.’ Her mother said, ‘What dance? She doesn’t have a dance.’ Somebody shouts out, ‘You’ll dance.’
They fetched me in and out the back way under a blanket. Women there shouting. Something hit me on the head. Said in the van it was a packet of cornflakes. Coins as well. Aught they have in their shopping bags.
They have to ravel it all out in words. ‘Then what did you do? Then what?’ As if there was a plan. As if I meant to go from A to B. ‘Well,’ says the counsel, ‘you bought the sweets, didn’t you? You gave the wrong name.’ I said to the young policewoman, ‘It’s what I thought she wanted.’ ‘That’s what men always say,’ she said, ‘choose how old you are.’
Perhaps it would be easier, said the judge, if Samantha came up here. So she went and stood by his knee and held his hand. I thought, ‘Well, that’s what I’m here for.’
I asked for a number of other offences to be taken into consideration, some of them in Huddersfield where I’ve never even been. The police said it didn’t matter as it meant they could close the book on lots of cases and it would go in my favour. It didn’t. They just said my record proved that I was a hopeless case.
The judge said I would be given treatment. I haven’t been given any treatment. They’ve put me by myself to stop the others giving me the treatment. The getting scalded in the kitchen treatment. The piss in your porridge treatment.
The doctor said, ‘Did anyone touch you when you were little?’ I said I didn’t want any of that staff. ‘No, they didn’t. And if they did, it’s done. Anyway, they tell you to touch people now. They run courses in it.’ ‘Not like that,’ he said.
Janet’s been. Usual tack. Blames the mothers, says if they can’t look after them they don’t deserve kiddies in the first place. All her daffodils have been rooted up, plant pots broken. Next stop Newcastle, probably.
Mr Kumar. Says, I miss you Mr Paterson. I miss our walks with our barrows and brushes. You are the untouchable now. And he pats my hand. Says he’s gone up one rung on the ladder now, is an attendant at the Art Gallery. ‘No condoms to speak of,’ he says. ‘No sick on the floor. And on the walls the beautiful ladies and landscapes of Leeds. I tell you, Mr Paterson, it is a cushy number.’
When they put me away last time I used to think when I got out I’d go somewhere right away, a shed in the middle of a moor. And I’d fence it round with railway sleepers and get myself a bad dog and be a recluse.
Only kids would come. They’d know.
The prison must be near the station. I hear the trains on a night. And a school somewhere. There’s a playtime at a quarter to eleven. And they come out at four. It’s the one bit of my life that feels right and it’s that bit that’s wrong.
Men groan and cry out. Shout and scream in the night. It’s like a tropical forest. Wild beasts.
I didn’t foist them off like grown-ups do. I looked at them. I listened to them.
Sometimes there’s a plane crosses the top left hand corner of my window. I think of the ‘No Smoking’ sign going on, the seats put back in the upright position, the pilot beginning his descent to Leeds and Bradford airport.
I used to go hiking when I was a boy. Over Nidderdale Moors. A reservoir. That would be the place. Nobody there at all.
FADE,
and in the black a long drawn-out howl.
Marjory
: Julie Walters
PRODUCED BY
MARK SHIVAS
DESIGNED BY
STUART WALKER
DIRECTED BY
GAVIN MILLAR
MUSIC BY
GEORGE FENTON
AFTERNOON. THE KITCHEN. AGAINST A BLANK, WALLPAPERED WALL. ONE CHAIR. POSSIBLY SOME ARTIFICIAL FLOWERS. SIMILAR SETTINGS THROUGHOUT.
I
’d be the same if it was a cat. Because they make as much mess as dogs. Only cats you can be allergic to, so people make allowances. And flowers, of course, some people. Only we don’t have flowers. Well, we do but they’re all washable. I just think it spies on me, that tongue lolling out.
He took the van over to Rawdon last night. Said it was Rawdon anyway. Doing something or other, fly-tipping probably. Takes Tina which was a relief from the woof-woofing plus it gave me a chance to swill.
I’d had Mrs Catchpole opposite banging on the door in the afternoon saying she was going to the council because it wanted putting down. I said, ‘I agree.’ She said, ‘I’m getting a petition up.’ I said, ‘Well, when you do, fetch it across because I’ll be the first signatory.’ I hate the flaming dog. Of course she doesn’t do it with him. Never makes a muff when he’s around.
He comes in after midnight, puts his clothes in the washer. I said to him last week, ‘Why don’t you do your washing at a cultivated hour?’ He said, ‘You’re lucky I do it at all.’ Still, at least the washer’s in the shed. I shouted down, ‘That dog’s not inside is she?’ He said, ‘No. Get to sleep.’ Which I was doing only when he comes up he has nothing on. He leaves it a bit then slides over to my side and starts carrying on.
Found a dog hair or two on the carpet this morning so that meant another shampooing job. I only did it last week. This shampoo’s got airfreshener in, plus a disinfectant apparently.
Non-stop down at the yard since they started killing off the cows, so when he comes in this dinner-time he wants to eat straight off. Swills his boots under the outside tap and he’s coming in like that. I said, ‘Stuart. You know the rules. Take them off.’ He said, ‘There’s no time.’ So I said, ‘Well, if there’s not time you’ll have it on the step.’ Sits there eating and feeding Tina. She licks his boots. Literally. I suppose it’s with him coming straight from the slaughterhouse.
Seems to have lost another anorak, this one fur-lined.
FADE.
She comes up this afternoon, his mother, all dolled up. Says, ‘You’ve got this place nice. How do you manage with our Stuart?’ I said, ‘I’ve got him
trained.’ She said ‘He’s not trained when he comes down our house.’ ‘Well,’ I said, ‘perhaps he doesn’t get the encouragement.’ She said, ‘I don’t like it when they’re too tidy. It’s not natural.’
Not natural at their house. They’ve no culture at all. First time I went down there they were having their dinner and there was a pan stuck on the table. When it comes to evolution they’re scarcely above pigsty level. And she must be sixty, still dyes her hair, fag in her mouth, big ear-rings. She said, ‘You don’t mind if I smoke? Or do you want me to sit on the step?’
I gave her a saucer only it didn’t do much good, ash all over the shop. She does it on purpose. It had gone five, she said, ‘Where is he?’ I said, ‘Where he generally is at this time of day: slitting some defenceless creature’s throat. They’re on overtime.’
She went before it got dark. Said she was nervous what with this feller on the loose. Made a fuss of Tina. Remembered her when she was a puppy running round their house. I remember it an’ all. Doing its business all up and down, the place stank. It was me that trained Stuart. Me that trained the dog.
Except for the din. Can’t train that. Leaves off, of course when he appears. He doesn’t believe she does it. I said to him, ‘Is it safe for me to go on to the library?’ He said, ‘Why?’ I said, ‘There’s a lass dead in Wakefield now.’ He said, ‘You don’t cross any waste ground. Take Tina.’
Anyway I didn’t go and when he’s changed out of his muck and swilled everything off he put on his navy shirt, little chain round his neck and the tan slacks we bought him in Marbella. I brought him a beer in a glass while I had a sherry. Him sat on one side of the fire, me on the other, watching TV with the sound down. I said, ‘This is a nice civilised evening.’
Except of course madam gets wind of the fact that we’re having a nice time and starts whimpering and whatnot and jumping up outside the window and carries on and carries on until he has to take her out. Gone two hours so I was in bed when he got back.
Comes upstairs without his trousers on. I said, ‘What’ve you done with your slacks?’ He said, ‘The dog jumped up and got mud on. Anyway it’s quite handy isn’t it?’ I said, ‘Why?’ He said, ‘Why do you think? Move up.’
Lots of shouting and whatnot. I thought in the middle of it, it’s a blessing we’re detached. ‘Sorry about that,’ he said when he’d done. ‘I get carried away.’
Loudspeaker van came round this afternoon saying the police were
going to be coming round. House to house. I was just getting some stuff ready to take to the dry cleaners while it was light still.
Couldn’t find his slacks.
FADE.
She said, ‘Have you any suspicions of anyone in your family?’ I said, ‘What family? There’s only me and him.’ He said, ‘We can’t talk with this dog carrying on. Can’t we come inside?’ I said, ‘You’ve told people not to open their doors.’ She said, ‘But we’re the police.’ I said, ‘Well, take your shoes off.’
She’s in uniform, he’s got a raincoat on. She said, ‘We’ve had complaints about the dog. It’s in your print-out.’ I said, ‘Oh it’s the dog, is it? I thought it was the killer you were after.’ She said, ‘Your hubby says it never barks.’ I said, ‘When did you talk to him?’ She said, ‘At his place of employment. These are the dates of the murders. Look at them and tell me whether you can remember where your husband was on any of these dates.’ I said, ‘He was at home. He’s always at home.’ She said, ‘Our information is he’ll sometimes go out.’ I said, ‘Yes. With the dog. Do you know dogs? They occasionally want to have a jimmy riddle.’ She said, ‘What about this fly-tipping? His van’s been seen.’ I said, ‘The van’s not my province. Though I’ve shared the back seat with a beast head before now.’
Meanwhile the one in the raincoat’s been sitting there saying nothing, looking round, sizing the place up. Suddenly he stands up. ‘Can I use the toilet?’ I said, ‘Now? Well, you’ll have to wait while I put a paper down.’
I took him upstairs and waited outside. He says, ‘I can’t do it with you listening.’ So I came downstairs again. And she says, ‘He’s got a funny bladder.’
‘One last question. Have you noticed anything out of the ordinary about your husband stroke boy friend stroke father stroke son … well, that’s husband in your case … over the last six months?’ ‘Like what?’ ‘Blood on his clothes?’ I said, ‘There’s always blood. He’s a slaughterman. Only you won’t find any in here. And you won’t find any outside. He swills it off.’ I said, ‘Your friend’s taking his time.’ She said, ‘Men have problems with their water. I’ve an idea he has an appliance.’
When eventually he comes down he says, ‘You keep the place tidy.’ I said, ‘I used to be a teacher.’ He said, ‘What did you teach?’ I said, ‘Children.‘He said, ‘Do you have any?’ I said, ‘Does it look like it?’
As they’re going Mother Catchpole opposite is stood in the road
and shouts across, ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’ So the girl goes over and has a word. Comes back. ‘Nothing,’ she says. ‘Just the flaming dog.’ ‘Nobody listens to me,’ she’s shouting, ‘I’ve had a depression with that dog.’
I shut the door. When I went upstairs to wipe round the toilet I saw he’d moved one or two ornaments. Nothing else that I could see.
When his lordship came in I said, ‘You never told me they’d been to your work.’ He said, ‘It was routine. I’ve tipped on one of the sites where they found one of them.’ I said, ‘Did you find that ticket?’ He said, ‘What ticket?’ ‘For the dry cleaners. The tan slacks.’ He said, ‘Oh yes. They’re at work.’ I said, ‘You’re not wearing them for work. They’re good slacks are them.’ He said, ‘They’re shit-coloured. What do I want with shit-coloured trousers?’
He was in the yard swilling his boots when he was saying all this. Outside. He’s started being much more careful about all that. I don’t know what’s got into him.
FADE.
Lad opposite just delivering four pizzas to No. 17. She’s a widow, living on her own with a son in New Zealand and a heart condition, what’s she wanting with four pizzas? I bet she’s never had a pizza in her life. They must think I’m stupid. The doctor said, ‘Why can’t you sleep?’ I said, ‘The police are bugging my home.’ She said, ‘Yes. There’s a lot of it about.’ Asian too. They’re normally a bit more civil.
We went out in the van the other night and he stopped it somewhere and said, ‘Do you think it’s me?’ I said, ‘No.’ He said, ‘Well, my mam does. It was her that went to the police.’ ‘And what did they say?’ ‘Told her she wasn’t the only one. Mothers queuing up apparently.’ I said, ‘Well, she might cut a bit more ice if she didn’t wear that leopard-skin coat thing. Legacy from when she was at it herself.’ ‘At what?’ ‘Soliciting.’ He said, ‘Who told you that?’ I said, ‘You did. You said she was hard up.’ He said, ‘It was years ago. I was still at school.’
Went out with Tina later on and comes in all worked up again. Sets to. Thought he was going to go through the bed. And saying stuff out loud again. I thought of them across the road, listening, so I put my hand over his mouth at one point, which he seemed to like.
I waited to see if there was anything in the papers only there wasn’t. Been nothing for about a week now. You can get things out of proportion, I think.
I found where they’d put their listening thing this morning. Little hole in the skirting board. Did it when he was reckoning to go to the lavatory. Must have been quick because he’d managed to colour it white so it didn’t show only some fluff got stuck to the paint so that’s how I spotted it.
Sound of a newspaper coming through the door. She picks it up.
They’ve found another one, it looks like. This time on a skip. Been there …about a week.
FADE.
One of them leaps over the wall, quite unnecessarily in my opinion because the gate’s wide open. They get it off the TV. Five police cars. Batter on the door and when he opens it bowl him over and put handcuffs on him and take him off with a jacket over his head.
Tina, of course is going mad and they’ve got a dog of their own which doesn’t help. I said, ‘You’re not fetching that thing in here.’ He said,
‘We’ve got a warrant.’ I said, ‘His dog’s not been in here so I don’t see why your dog should.’ He said, ‘This is an instrument of law enforcement.’ I said, ‘Yes, and it’s an instrument of urinating against lampposts and leaving parcels on pavements. I don’t want it sniffing round my stuff.’ He says, ‘You’ve got no choice, love,’and shoves me out of the way.
One of them’s upstairs going through the airing cupboard. I said, ‘What are you looking for? Maybe I can help?’ He said, ‘If you must know we’re looking for the murder weapon.’ I said, ‘Oh, I can show you that. This is the murder weapon (
Points to her tongue
). This is always the murder weapon. You want to drag the canal for that.’
He said, ‘You sound sicker than he does. I don’t think you realise the seriousness of your situation. If we find you know what’s been going on you’ll be in the dock yourself.’ I said, ‘Don’t put those sheets back. I shall have them all to wash now you’ve been handling them.’ He said, ‘We shall want all his clothes and other selected items,’ and produces a roll of bin bags. ‘Is everything here? He hasn’t got anything at the dry cleaners?’ I said, ‘No.’ I said, ‘How do I know we’ll get all this stuff back?’ He said, ‘That’s the least of your worries.’
When eventually they go the handler reckons to take charge of Tina, except that he can’t get her to go in the car with them. Then when they do force her in they all pile out sharpish because she’s straightaway done her business in the car. I laughed.
It was suddenly quiet when they’d gone, just Mother Catchpole at her gate shouting. ‘The doctor says I’m clinically depressed. That dog wants putting down.’
The police said not to touch anything but I wasn’t having the place left upset like that so I set to and cleaned down and repaired the ravages a bit. One or two folks outside the house looking in and the phone rings now and again but I don’t answer.

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