Muriel Spark - The Ballad of Peckham Rye

She went over to the window, smoothing her waist, and glanced through the window as a car drew up in the small curved drive. ‘Here’s Richard.’ she said. ‘He’s been looking forward to having a serious chat with you this evening, and getting things settled before we go abroad.’

‘Is that you, Jinny?’

‘Yes.’

‘Have you got any milk on the stove?’

‘No.’

‘When can I come and see you?’

‘I’m getting married next week.’

‘No, Jinny.’

‘I’m in love with him. He was sweet when I was ill.’

‘Just when I’m getting on my feet and drawing two pays for nothing,’ Dougal said, ‘you tell me -‘

‘It wouldn’t have worked between us, Dougal. I’m not strong in health.’

‘Well, that’s that,’ Dougal said.

‘Miss Cheeseman’s thrilled with her autobiography so far,’ Jinny said. ‘You’ll do well, Dougal.’

‘You’ve changed. You are using words like “sweet” and “thrilled”.’

‘Oh, get away. Miss Cheeseman said she was pleased.’

‘She doesn’t tell me that.’

‘Well, she has some tiny reservations about the Peckham bits, but on the whole -‘

‘I’m coming over to see you, Jinny.’

‘No, Dougal, I mean it.’

Dougal went in to Miss Frierne’s kitchen and wept into his large pocket handkerchief.

‘Are you feeling all right?’ she said.

‘No. My girl’s getting married to another chap.’

She filled the kettle and put it down on the draining board. She opened the back door and shut it again. She took up a duster and dusted a kitchen chair, back and legs.

‘You’re better off without her,’ she said.

‘I’m not,’ Dougal said, ‘but I’ve got a fatal flaw.’

‘You’re not drinking at nights, Dougal?’

‘No more than usual.’

She lifted the kettle and put it down again.

‘Calm down,’ Dougal said.

‘Well, it upsets me inside to see a man upset.’

‘Light the gas and put the kettle on it,’ he said.

She did this, then stood and looked at him. She took off her apron.

‘Sit down,’ Dougal said.

She sat down.

‘Stand up.’ he said, ‘and fetch me a tot of your gin.’

She brought two glasses and the gin bottle. ‘It’s only quarter past five,’ she said. ‘It’s early to start on gin. Here’s to you, son. You’ll soon get over it.’

The front-door bell rang. Miss Frierne caused the bottle and glasses to disappear. The bell rang again. She went to answer it.

‘Name of Frierne?’ said a man’s voice.

‘Yes, what do you want?’

‘Could I have a private word with you?’

Miss Frierne returned to the kitchen followed by a policeman.

‘A man aged about seventy-nine was run over by a bus this morning on the Walworth Road. Sorry, madam, but he had the name Frierne in his pocket written on a bit of paper. He died an hour ago. Any relation you know of, madam?’

‘No, I don’t know of him. Must be a mistake. You can ask my neighbours if you like. I’m the only one left in the world.’

‘Very good,’ said the policeman, making notes.

‘Did he have any other papers on him?’

‘No, nothing. A pauper, poor devil.’

The policeman left.

‘Well, there wasn’t anything I could do if he’s dead, was there?’ Miss Frierne said to Dougal. She started crying. ‘Except pay for the funeral. And it’s hard enough keeping going and that.’

Dougal fetched out the gin again and poured two glasses. Presently he placed a kitchen chair to face the chair on which he sat. He put up his feet on it and said, ‘Ever seen a corpse?’ He lolled his head back, closed his eyes and opened his mouth so that the bottom jaw was sunken and rigid.

‘You’re callous, that’s what you are,’ Miss Frierne said. Then she screamed with hysterical mirth.

Humphrey sat with Mavis and Arthur Crewe in their sitting-room, touching, every now and then, two marks on his face.

‘Well, if by any chance you don’t have her, it’s your luck,’ Mavis said. ‘I say it though she’s my own daughter. When I was turned seventeen, eighteen, I was out with the boys every night, dancing and so forth. You wouldn’t have caught me doing no evening work just for a bit of money. And there aren’t so many boys willing to sit round waiting like you. She’ll learn when it’s too late.’

‘It isn’t as if she parts with any of her money,’ Arthur Crewe said. ‘You don’t get the smell of an oil-rag out of Dixie. The more she’s got the meaner she gets.’

‘What’s that got to do with it?’ Dixie’s mother said. ‘You don’t want anything from her, do you?’

‘I never said I did. I was only saying -‘

‘Dixie has her generous side,’ Mavis said. ‘You must hand it to her, she’s good to Leslie. She’s always slipping him five bob here and five bob there.’

‘Pity she does it,’ Arthur said. ‘The boy’s ruined. He’s money mad.’

‘What you know about kids? There’s nothing wrong with Leslie. He’s no different from the rest. They all like money in their pockets.’

‘Where’s Leslie now, anyway?’

‘Gone out.’

‘Where?’

‘How do I know? You ask him.’

‘He’s with Trevor Lomas,’ Humphrey said. ‘Up at Costa’s.’

‘There you are, Arthur. There’s no harm in Trevor Lomas.’

‘He’s a bit old company for Leslie.’

‘Grumble, grumble, grumble,’ Mavis said, and switched on the television.

Leslie came in at eleven. He looked round the sitting-room.

‘Hallo, Les,’ Humphrey said.

Leslie did not speak. He went upstairs.

At half-past eleven Dixie came home. She kicked off her shoes in the sitting-room and flopped on to the sofa. ‘You been here long?’ she said to Humphrey.

‘An hour or two.’

‘Nice to be able to sit down of a summer evening,’ Dixie said.

‘Yes, why don’t you try it?’

‘Trevor Lomas says there’s plenty of overtime at Freeze-eezy if anyone wants it.’

‘Well, I don’t want it,’ Humphrey said.

‘Obvious.’

‘Who wants to do overtime all their lives?’ Mavis said.

‘I was just remarking,’ Dixie said, ‘what Trevor Lomas told me.’

‘Overtime should be avoided except in cases of necessity,’ Humphrey said, ‘because eventually it reduces the normal capacity of the worker and in the long run leads to under-production, resulting in further demands for overtime. A vicious circle. Where did you see Trevor Lomas?’

‘It is a case of necessity,’ Dixie said, ‘because we need all the money we can get.’

‘That’s how she goes on,’ Mavis said. ‘Why she can’t be content to settle down with a man’s good wages like other people I don’t know. With a bungalow earmarked for October -‘.

‘I want it to be a model bungalow,’ Dixie said.

‘You’ll have your model bungalow,’ Humphrey said.

‘She wants a big splash wedding,’ Mavis said. ‘Well. Arthur and I will do what we can but only what we can.

‘That’s right.’ Arthur said.

‘Dixie’s entitled to the best,’ Mavis said. ‘She’s got a model dress in view.’

‘Where did you see Trevor Lomas?’ Humphrey said to Dixie.

‘Up at Costa’s. I went in for a Coke on the way home. Any objections?’.

‘No, dear, no,’ Humphrey said.

‘Nice of you. Well, I’m going to bed, I’m tired out. You still got your scars.’

‘They’ll go away in time.’

‘I don’t mind. Trevor’s got a scar.’

‘I better keep my eye on Trevor Lomas,’ Humphrey said.

‘You better keep your eye on your friend Dougal Douglas. Trevor says he’s a dick.’

‘I don’t believe it,’ Mavis said.