Alan Sillitoe - Birthday

They had no photographs from those days, not even separate ones to exchange. Camcorders were ten a penny now, but few people had cameras during the war or for a long time afterwards. Yet the memory was so much richer for dragging scenes back through the haze, whereas clear photographs would do nothing for the reality he and Jenny had known.

Walking the streets, they were said to be courting, but he had never thought the responsibility applied to him, a feckless workman of seventeen (by the time they had split) and nowhere near as staid as Jenny expected. She was too proud, or lackadaisical, or too imbued with a paralysing infusion of both, to broach the fact, only wanting him to speak the homely promise and sooner rather than later.

He knew well enough what she wanted but, in his juvenile slyness, let her wait, caring only that their weekends of love would go on for as long as forever might be. You didn’t think about getting older, or making up your mind on anything as deadly as wedlock, which locked you up and no mistake, having only to recall the past miseries of his parents to know that such a state was not for him.

The parting was sudden, though he had known for some time that she wouldn’t for much longer endure his wilful indecisiveness. He lacked direction in the world as it was, lived in a dream he couldn’t let her share, because even not knowing exactly what it was, he wanted it for himself alone. On the other hand his sensibility, not entirely blunted by selfishness, knew all too well what was in her mind.

Meeting one evening on the street as arranged, she told him she was fed up and didn’t want to see him anymore, but was going for a walk with a couple of girls a few yards away laughing, as if they had put her up to it, he thought. The three of them would sit in the pictures and see what lads they could pick up. He was surprised at a firmness she had given no sign of before, knowing from her tone it was no use arguing, that such determination to pack him in was a kindness that saved him pleading for her not to do so.

In any case he didn’t want to, and his self-esteem suffered no bruising because he went out with another girl too soon afterwards to wonder whether Jenny had chucked him or he had chucked her. There were all the boys for the asking and all the girls for the taking, always had been and always would be plenty more pebbles on the beach, so you had to make hay while the sun still shone.

The same pure breeze from the Derbyshire hills came through the car window on its way to the middle of Nottingham. In winter it was cold enough to work through the thickest jacket, but the benediction of sweet air at the moment brought back all youth’s hopes and expectations.

‘We’ll be a bit early,’ Arthur said, ‘but I expect they’ll let us in at The Crossbow. Jenny’s daughter’s booked the upstairs room from eight o’clock.’ A mile away to the right the M1 crossed the old bucolic courting grounds of Trowel Moor, slicing a wood and a few fields out of existence to make room for a service station. ‘Something else gone forever.’

So will we be soon enough, but Brian didn’t say so because Avril had cancer, and in any case they were going to a celebration. Jenny’s daughter had written to him in London that she and the other grown-ups were arranging a surprise birthday party, and would he come up for it? ‘She talks about you now and again, so I know she would love you to be there.’

You can’t say no to a request which might give some meaning to your life. Why otherwise had he said yes? His existence couldn’t have been more different from Jenny’s, and that of the man she went on to meet. At nineteen she’d got pregnant, and the baby was now the woman of fifty who had organized the surprise party for her mother. After having the daughter Jenny got married and bore six more kids from a man who was to wish many times he had never been born.

‘She used to come up to the house now and again, and have a cup of tea with mam,’ Arthur called out. ‘I suppose she had to talk about her troubles, or she would have gone off her head. She used to reminisce about when she’d gone out with you, which cheered her up a bit. Mam liked her a lot.’ He aimed for a black cat, knowing it would get out of the way, which it did, just, so that they all laughed. ‘You brought Jenny home for tea once, do you remember? But mam knew her parents already, because everybody knew everybody in those days.’

Brian nodded. ‘Jenny’s old man was a cheerful bloke, though I expect he knew what I was getting up to with his daughter. Luckily, he was fond of his ale, and went out with his wife to the pub every Friday and Saturday night.’

‘You had it made,’ Arthur laughed. ‘And you fucked her blind on the sofa.’

‘Well, who wouldn’t?’

‘Men!’ Avril gave her usual dry laugh. ‘That’s all you can talk about.’

‘It was the same,’ Arthur retorted, ‘when Sarah called on you a couple of years ago. You thought I’d gone out, but I was in the living room with my ear stuck to the wall. I looked in the mirror, and my face had gone like a beetroot.’

‘I’d have known if you had been there,’ she said. ‘Even when I’m in bed and you go out into the garden I can tell you’re not in the house.’

‘Anyway,’ he said to Brian, ‘I’d have fucked Jenny blind as well. You should have stayed with her.’

‘I ought to have done a lot of things, but they’d have been just as wrong as what I did do.’ His many mistakes in life had only been useful for counting over and over when he couldn’t get to sleep.

‘She’d have had a better life,’ Arthur said, ‘though I don’t suppose somebody like you would have stayed with her for long.’ He nodded towards the mass of clean slate roofs going down the hill. ‘Do you remember all them blocks of flats they built there twenty years ago? They had to demolish ’em after ten years because the partition walls turned into wet cardboard when it rained. A fortune was lost over that, which must have gone into somebody’s pocket. Nobody got sent down for it, and I expect a lot of people are still living in Spain on the proceeds. I’d have stood ’em against a wall and shot the lot. Some made even more money when they built new houses in their place.’

‘It provided work,’ Avril reasonably suggested, ‘and saved a lot of dole money.’

A pool of sunlight flowed into the car, and Arthur put the visor down. ‘In them days there was always work. It was just a shame Jenny’s husband took a job at that iron foundry. The best luck he ever had was when he married Jenny, even though she already had another bloke’s kid.’

‘A lot of men wouldn’t have taken it on,’ Avril said.

Arthur flicked the visor back when cloud hit the sun. ‘Yeh, but she made up for it a million times.’

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