Twenty Thousand Streets Under the Sky (41 page)

And then she had forgotten about the landlord, and was talking wildly with her friends again, and then, as they were moving to the door once more, she did not know what happened, but as she moved forwards she felt herself falling backwards, and she couldn’t stop herself and fell down.

And as she wasn’t hurt she simply wanted to laugh. But everybody was around her making a dreadful fuss – including the man with the red face and drooping moustache.

They were leaning over her, and discussing her, and arguing about her. They helped her to her feet, and she leaned on Violet. ‘Are you all right?’ said Violet, and ‘She’s all right,’ said Rex, and ‘Of course I’m all right,’ she said. And the next moment they were out in the street.

She felt a little funny on her feet, coming out into the air, but she leaned on Violet, and soon felt herself again.

‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s have another drink.’

At this they all laughed at her. ‘Well, that’s the spirit,’ said Rex. ‘There’s just time for one more.’

She knew they thought, because she had accidentally tumbled over, that she had had too much to drink, but clearly as she knew they were mistaken, she could not be bothered to argue with them. Indeed, she rather liked them thinking it, as it gave her great pleasure to prove what a daredevil she was, and how little she cared.

‘Here we are,’ said Rex, and they had gone through another door into another public house, and were shouldering their way, amid a thick crowd of people, towards the bar. ‘We’re just on time,’ said Rex, and shoved his way ahead.

All at once Jenny heard a voice behind her.

‘Jenny.’

She turned round, and saw Tom at her side.

* * *

For one moment the furious pace of her evening was checked, and she stared at him, in that perfervid and voluble atmosphere, without a word. The sight of his pale, frightened face, and staring eyes; the sheer unexpectedness of the meeting; the overpowering mystery of how he came to be there; the knowledge that she had wronged him and had been found out – all combined, for a brief instant, to alarm and sober her.

‘Hullo, Jenny,’ he said, and she saw that he trembled with fear and love.

‘Hullo,’ she said. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘Come on, Jenny,’ he said. ‘You got to get out of here.’

‘How did
you
get in here?’ she said. She was recovering already.

‘Come on, Jen. You must come out.’

‘How did
you
get here?’ she repeated, feeling a not unpleasing resentment rising in her voice and soul.

‘I followed you,’ he said. ‘I came over here to try and find you, and saw you walking in the street.’

‘Oh – so you followed me – did you?’ With grim delight she saw the case against him, and how she could thrust it home. ‘You been sneakin’ on me – have you?’

‘No – I ain’t been sneakin’ on you, Jenny. I— ’

‘What are you tremblin’ for?’

‘Jenny. I ain’t tremblin’. Jenny — ’

‘Yes, you are. Go on. What are you tremblin’ for? Seen a ghost or something?’

It gave her extraordinary pleasure to torture and make Tom look a fool in this manner. This was what she called ‘giving it him.’ She recalled making up her mind earlier in the evening to ‘give it him’ and get rid of him once and for all.

‘Jenny. You got to come back. You
got
to.’ He put his hand on her arm.

‘Leave go of me, will you?’ she said. ‘Do you want to make a scene in ’ere?’

‘But Jenny. It’s for your
good
.’

She looked round quickly to see if her friends were watching. She heard Violet’s shrill cackle, and saw them some distance away in the crowd, standing at the bar and talking to each other. Any moment they might see her, and she would be disgraced. Was this not the pale boy himself?

‘Here. Come on out,’ she said. ‘I’ll soon see what you want.’

They pushed their way through the crowd, and he opened the door for her.

‘Jenny!’ he said, when they were outside, but she did not answer him until they were round a corner, and out of sight of the pub.

‘Now,’ she said. ‘What is it? Eh?’

‘Jenny!’ he said. ‘Don’t take on so. I love you.’

‘Go on. I’ve heard that one. You love me enough to come sneakin’ on me – that it?’

‘Jenny. It’s for your
good
. It’s for your
good
! You’re drunk, Jenny. You know you are. You’re drunk.’

Again Tom’s exceeding wild look almost pulled her up. There was something mad about him. He had the air of a prophet, an inspired mystic – a seer of things beyond her own vision and sphere. And, indeed, this was the case, since he saw with agonized clarity the one thing concerning which light was now denied her – that she was drunk.

‘Oh, so I’m drunk, am I? So that’s what you say to the girl you love, is it?’

‘But you
are
, Jenny. You
are
. You got — ’ He touched her arm again.

‘How
dare
you say such a thing!’ She flung his hand away. ‘How
dare
you! – eh?’

‘But Jenny. You got to listen. You got to be up in the morning.
You got to be up in the morning!
’

‘Oh, have I, indeed? And who said I had? Supposing I haven’t! What then!’

‘But Jenny – it’s for your good. You’ll lose your job.
You’ll lose your job!
’

‘And suppose I don’t want my job – eh? What then? Suppose I don’t want the dirty job! Suppose I got a better one?’

‘Jenny — ’

‘I’ll tell you something. I don’t want your dirty jobs – see? I wouldn’t defile my ’ands with ’em – see? You thought you was dealin’ with a skivvy – didn’t you?’

‘Jenny — ’

‘And I don’t want you neither – see? I don’t want to see your funny pale face again. I’m sick of the sight of it. And I’ll tell you where you ought to be. You ought to be in ’ospital – see? You’re infectious!’

For one moment Tom drew himself up, and his face worked with distraught and sickly rage. He looked as though he could kill her.

But now Jenny had taken this line, like one who is stamping out the life of an insect which still maddeningly writhes, she was blind and uncontrolled: and the thought that he might be about to show fight merely impelled her to strike and strike again.

‘Jenny. . . .’ he said.

‘You’re in
consumption
– that’s what’s the matter with you –
see
? You got T.B. – that’s your trouble – T.B.! An’ I don’t want the likes of you hangin’ round
me
– see? An’ that’s final. An’ if you don’t shove off now, I’ll go in there and set my friends on you – got that! They’ll soon give you what you want!’

They looked into each other’s eyes. There was no motion in his face or body.

‘All right, Jenny,’ he said, and still did not move.

She walked away.

* * *

Gee, she had been mad! Gee, she had given him a piece of her mind! Gee, she never knew she had a temper like that! She’d ‘dressed him down’ all right!

She flung back the swing door, and was in the crowd and smoke once more. Lord – what a crush! Where were they? She discerned them at the far end of the room seated at a table.

‘Hooray!’ cried Rex, and they all cried ‘Hooray,’ and made room for her to sit down.

There now appeared to be an addition to the party. Andy was in drunken argument with a rather good-looking young man, anything between thirty and forty, wearing a military moustache, and speaking with the affected (though now inebriated) accents of a ‘gentleman.’

‘Here you are,’ said Violet, and she made room for Jenny between herself and the stranger. ‘Where’ve you been all this time?’

‘Where’ve I been?’ she said. ‘I just happen to have had a bit of an argument with someone, that’s all. Come on. Let’s have a drink.’

There was a drink in readiness for her, and she gulped almost half of it down at one go. ‘That’s better,’ she said. ‘Gee – I ain’t half a little spitfire when I get going.’ And she sat there glorying in the part.

Rex and Violet asked her who it was, but she wouldn’t say. ‘Never you mind,’ she said. ‘Never you mind. Never you mind.’

‘Never you mind,’ she added, a moment later. She knew, in a dizzy way, that she had said ‘Never you mind’ too often, and that she was behaving wildly and hysterically, but she didn’t care any more. It was at this moment that, if there was any final inhibition dwelling in Jenny to restrain her, it took its flight along with the others.

It was just on closing time in Hammersmith, and all she said and did in the remaining minutes in that place she hardly knew at the time, and never remembered afterwards.

She had scarcely been sitting down a moment before the moustached ‘gentleman’ stranger next to her had put his arm round her.

‘Well, my little one – how are we?’ he began, and she said
she
was all right – what about him?

‘Passing well, passing well, passing well,’ he said, but Alas and Alack, he was no longer what he was. He had fallen into the sere and yellow leaf. Shakespeare. Act one. Scene Three. . . . Well, said Jenny, that sounded all right, but was he quite sure it wasn’t Hamlet? . . .

No, he said, it wasn’t. It was Milton. The Greatest of the Puritans. Did she read Milton? . . . No, said Jenny, she didn’t. The only sort of Milton
she
read was the disinfectant. . . . ‘Quite true,’ he said. ‘Quite true. Only one in five escapes deadly pyorrhoea. . .’ But she ought to read Milton. All the lower classes ought to read Milton. Not that she was a member of the lower classes – though, of course,
she was
, wasn’t she?. . .

And then Andy was cutting in and saying
he
knew some Milton – what about this? – There was a Young Lady of Tring. . . . And having recited the bawdy limerick in full, he asked whether Milton could beat
that
. . . .

Whereat Rex joined in with another Limerick, and Violet with another, and Jenny tried to think of one herself; but her mind wandered away and she noted with renewed interest that she was seeing double again. . . .

When she next listened to them they were all talking about a Bet. . . . It was Bet. . . . Bet. . . . Bet. . . . ‘I’ll bet
you
,’ Andy was saying to the young man, and the young man was saying, ‘Excuse me, sir, you will
not
. I will bet
you
. . . .’

It seemed they were talking about a Car. . . . ‘My dear sir,’ said the young man, ‘I will take you in that Car and bloody well demonstrate
now
.’ ‘No, you won’t,’ said Andy. ‘I’ll bloody well take you in mine.’ ‘Done!’ said the young man. ‘Done!’ said Andy.

And then suddenly half the lights had gone down, and there was a sound of glasses being briskly and harshly snapped up in all directions, and a man’s voice crying ‘Now then, gentlemen, please!
Time
please, ladies and gennelmen! ALL OUT THERE!’

And with Andy and the young man still arguing, and Rex trying to shout them both down in passionate argument against the folly of argument, they all got up.

And walking towards the door, with all of them arguing around her and over her, Jenny felt decidedly giddy. Everything kept on going round and round, and then rather horribly stopping, and then going round and round again. . . .

And for a moment it did just occur to Jenny that she had, after all, to be up and working in the morning, and she wondered how on earth she was going to do it, and what was going to happen now. But the thought didn’t trouble her, and passed away at once.

And then they were out in the street, with a dumb and darkened house being savagely bolted behind them, and the next thing she was aware of was the moustached stranger, who was again embracing her, and at the same time yodelling to the skies – displaying with great virtuosity an astonishing falsetto voice. ‘Yo-ah-ah-eye-atee!’ he went. ‘Yo-ah-ah-eye-atee!’ and she noticed that people on the other side of the street were standing in couples and trios and looking at them.

And then they had all gone down a corner, and he was doling out whisky to them, in turn, from a little thermos cup. . . . And then they were moving on again, and the young man was again embracing her, and again yodelling. ‘Yo-ah-ah-eye-atee!’ he went. ‘Yo-ah-ah-eye-atee!’ And by now it didn’t seem in the slightest way odd.

And then they were passing over the Broadway, and then they had gone down a side-street, and were outside a large garage, with ‘ALL NIGHT GARAGE’ on a large electric sign outside.

And then Andy was telling them all to stay where they were, and not to behave silly or they wouldn’t let him take the car
out. . . . And then he had vanished and Jenny realized that they were all going out for a car ride. . . .

She was delighted at this, as she had never been in a car in her life. ‘Where’s he taking us?’ she asked. ‘Where’s he taking us?’ But nobody seemed to answer. Instead the young man again put his arm round her and said ‘Well, little one – are you coming home with Daddy to-night?’ ‘What for?’ she said. ‘To sleep, my angel,’ he said. . . .

And then Andy had drawn up to the pavement in a lovely big car, and they were all clambering in. ‘I’m by the driver!’ cried Jenny. ‘I’m by the driver!’ And she pushed Violet out of the way. ‘Here – who’re you pushin’?’ said Violet. ‘Go on. Get on out,’ said Jenny, ‘you take a back seat.’ ‘No,’ said Violet, ‘you’re Rough.’ ‘Oh, shut your row,’ said Jenny, and ‘No,’ said Violet. ‘You’re Rough.’ ‘Yo-ah-ah-eye-atee!’ went the young man, and he embraced Violet in the back seat.

And then the car had started, and she felt the wind on her face. Gee, this was fun! And to think she’d never been in a car before! Gee, this was just what she was wanting to clear her head.

They were back in the Broadway in less than a minute, and flying along King Street in the direction of Chiswick.

‘Where are we going?’ cried Jenny, against the speed and wind. But no one answered her. The young man was yodelling, and Rex and Violet were cuddling each other with raucous laughter behind; and Andy, now wrapped in the authoritative taciturnity of the driver, did not see fit to answer.

Gosh – he was getting up a pace! . . . Ravenscourt Park. . . . Stamford Brook. . . . She knew the route well enough – she had come that way earlier in the evening by tram. . . . She supposed it was safe – going at this pace. There were very few vehicles on the road, but he was overtaking them all. She supposed it seemed risky to her because she had never been in a car before. . . .