The Penguin Book of the British Short Story Page 33

  As for Miss Great-Belt, she continued to be soft, sweet, charming. All her past animosity had vanished. She seemed to throw open that invisible veil that had hitherto made her so unattainable, so much the woman of ‘process’, and now welcomed him without question into the privacy of her composure. A woman so self-contained is ordinarily an uneasy companion. But when such a woman decides to invite one into her private sympathies, to give exactly her laughter and her confidence in the measure one knows it is withheld from others – then she becomes overwhelming. Without indulgence, with no condescension, but purely and simply, Miss Great Belt welcomed Morley to herself. He was bowled over.

  Quite early in the evening she made one point clear. ‘Now I do want to say once and for all,’ she said, opening her great eyes wide for frankness, leaning towards him like a large dark red cat, ‘that I congratulate you on your decision this afternoon. In my view you were absolutely right. That sweet Dutch girl was obviously the winner. I can see that one of the prizes had to go to an English girl – politics are politics. And there was every reason for poor Nuremburg – she looks so pale, doesn’t she? A sick woman, yes she needs encouragement, it was very kind – taking third prize. Who wants to be third anyhow? No, I know you’ll suspect I’m jealous – but honestly I’m not. With me justice counts before – whatever is the word? – self.’

  She said this with great content, purring over her sacrifice, her frank good nature. He did not notice this. His instinct rose to protect a lady in distress. He began instantly to lie that he himself had voted for her for first prize – but what could he do against so many others?

  He was surprised to notice that this was not received well. She looked, he thought, even a trifle offended. Why? Ah! … And he went straight on to point out that it was exactly because of this out-voting that, momentarily piqued, he simply could not bear to mention so much as her name in his presidential address.

  As he stumbled through these paces, Miss Great-Belt watched him keenly. She saw that he was lying, and was satisfied. They finished the evening in high spirit with each other.

  When the other ladies left during the next days, Miss Great-Belt stayed on. For propriety’s sake she removed to the near-by hotel but she stayed on in the town. She and Morely saw each other every day. They went to the theatre, they dined together, they took motor-trips into the country and they went sailing on the sea.

  The weather continued fine, it was a memorable month. Miss Great-Belt wrote to her father and begged permission to remain a few weeks more. Morley was in heaven. Now he avoided the Yacht Club altogether: he spent all his time with his new and lovely companion in places where they might be admired by more discriminating eyes.

  It was for him a flirtation de luxe. It complimented his years, it redounded satisfactorily to his prowess. Finally, he told himself, he had won the day. Trust an old bachelor! Sometimes, when he thought of it all, he remembered with a reproving chuckle the first days, the very first days when he had unfolded every charm to entice her, when he had sacrificed every self-respect. How had he not realized that it was the exact opposite which would win her? Why – in a dozen musical shows this very process nightly comprised the whole plot! He had played it out himself night after night, year after year – it was the very stuff of life? Why had he never realized … ? But then why, damn our eyes, do we all spend our lives delighting in the wisdom of paradox – yet hesitate to apply the risks to ourselves?

  He laughed and wagged his doggy head. Silly old fool! But then – hadn’t that same silly old fool come through with flying colours? In the end? It took perseverance. He smiled, a little in love with her and himself and with everything else. ‘He who laughs last,’ he chuckled.

  But then she married him.

  SAMUEL SELVON

  Knock On Wood

  The last time I see Jupsingh, he had a piece of a broomstick handle up in the lining of his coat. He say that he have that there because a Chinese fellar in Bayswater want to beat him, and he only waiting to crack this Chinese fellar head wide open with the handle.

  But I feel Jup have that broomstick there because he like to knock wood for luck. In point of fact, Jarvis and myself see him lift the coat and take a little knock while we was talking to him, and at the same time he sort of make a half turn and kiss a cross that he have pin on his chest.

  The first time I meet this test was one night Jarvis and me combing the Bayswater Road late to see if we could pick up a little thing to pass the time away. Same time, who should be coming down the road but Jupsingh, with a sharp thing holding on to his arm, a real chic chick.

  ‘Oh God!’ Jarvis say. ‘Boy, look Jupsingh. He is a real depressor, always bawling. He come from Trinidad. Listen to him when he come.’

  ‘What happening, what happening, man?’ Jupsingh come up and hold Jarvis’ shoulder. ‘Meet my new fiancée, Pat.’

  The thing shake hands with we. She had a babydoll face and it look like butter won’t melt in she mouth. Jupsingh have on a colin-wilson and he keep pulling the long sleeves down to cover his fingers, like gloves. He have a bottle of South African sherry in his hand.

  Jarvis haul him to one side and whisper, ‘Which part you get that piece of skin, Jupsingh?’

  ‘Listen, man, I in a jam,’ the old Jup say. ‘I bring this thing with me up from Woking and I ain’t have no place to take she. What you think, boy? You think she all right? You think I could sleep with she tonight?’

  ‘Well, you can’t come by me,’ Jarvis say, ‘but I will ask my friend, he have a big room.’

  Jarvis ask me and I say all right, that at least we could polish off the bottle of sherry.

  Up in my room Jupsingh anxious and restless as if he rusty and thirsty to hit one. Now and then, while Jarvis old-talking with Pat, he putting his hand to his face and saying Jesus Christ, and kissing a sign of the cross what he have pin on to the front of the colin-wilson. And he knocking wood. He knocking chair, table, floor – anything make out of wood in my room.

  Meanwhile Jarvis talking with Pat and asking she which part she come from, and if she like London, and how she hurt her ankle, and Pat saying she come from Ireland, that she don’t like London, and that she fall off a bicycle and hurt her foot.

  I open the sherry and we finish off the bottle, with Jupsingh trying to force Pat to have more, but she won’t. He ask she if she playing shy, and Pat smile and hang her head. You could see that the girl innocent and young, and only the good lord know how a evil test like Jupsingh manage to inveigle she to come up to London.

  Well, whenever he get a chance Jupsingh asking either Jarvis or myself if we think the thing nice, and if we think she would spend the night with him, and the both of we telling him yes, yes, to keep him easy, because he restless like a racehorse at the starting line.

  Pat begin to say it getting late and they have to catch the last train, but old Jup telling she to take it easy and relax, and he trying to cuddle her, but she pushing him off.

  ‘If is anything, we could always sleep here,’ Jupsingh say, looking at me and winking.

  ‘You can’t sleep here,’ I say. ‘It have plenty hotels in the Water.’

  ‘You think I could get a room, boy?’

  ‘Yes, man,’ Jarvis say.

  Well, the four of we old-talk till it was late, then all of we went out to look and try and get a room for Jupsingh.

  Outside in the road, Pat ask Jupsingh: ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘I will get a room, don’t worry,’ he say.

  You could see like he want to knock wood bad, and it chance to have some plane trees in the road where we was, and my boy went and knock the trunk of one and come back rubbing his face and saying Jesus Christ, and bending his head down and kissing the cross.

  ‘I am not staying in a room together with you,’ Pat say.

  ‘What happen to this girl at all?’ Jupsingh say.

  A big argument start up in the road. Pat have she hands folded and she cool as a cucumber, and you could see
that she make up her mind that whatever happen she ain’t going to bed down with my boy for the night. And the old Jup as if he in a kind of panic, he turning his back to kiss the cross and all the time he only asking Jarvis, ‘So what you think, what you think,’ like a recurring decimal.

  ‘Well, let Pat go in the hotel and ask,’ Jarvis say. ‘You know how it is, they mightn’t give you a room even if they have.’

  ‘How much hotel is around here?’ My boy start to check up on how much money he have.

  ‘This is a posh area, only aristocrats live here,’ Jarvis say, ‘but you might get one for one fifteen.’

  ‘Come on then, Pat, you coming?’ Jupsingh holding the girl hand and pulling.

  Eventually the two of them reach the entrance, but Pat stop and stand up and they argue a little, then Jupsingh breeze in alone.

  Me and Jarvis stand up on the other side watching she.

  ‘That man crazy,’ I say, ‘he can’t see the girl don’t want to sleep with him? What he believe? This is London, man.’

  ‘Look how she stand up there alone,’ Jarvis say.

  ‘It look bad,’ I say. ‘Call she.’

  Jarvis call she with his hand and she cross the road.

  ‘What is he trying to do?’ Pat ask.

  ‘Well you see,’ Jarvis say, trying to pacify the situation, ‘he gone to get a room for you.’

  ‘And where is he going to sleep?’

  ‘With you.’

  ‘Oh no.’ The way Pat say that, any man but Jupsingh would throw in the sponge.

  Jupsingh fly back out the hotel, rubbing his face and muttering Jesus Christ.

  ‘No rooms, man, no rooms. Which part again we could try?’

  ‘It have some other hotels in the next street,’ Jarvis say.

  ‘Come on then.’ Jupsingh hold Pat and take off.

  In the next street had a posh-looking hotel, and it had some people going in. Like they just come from theatre or something, with fur coat and bow tie and evening suit.

  ‘It don’t look like I would get a room there,’ Jup say uneasily. ‘You want to try, Pat?’

  But the way Jupsingh thirst, he would of tried to get in the Savoy that night. He went in, but is either they dish him up quick or else he don’t trust leaving Pat too long with we outside, because he come back in a hurry.

  After that we start combing all over the Water for a hotel, but as if a hoodoo on the old Jup that night, he can’t make a note. He only flying in and flying out, and sweating and smoking, and kissing the cross every chance he get, and now and then pulling Jarvis to one side and saying, ‘So what you think, boy? You think she will sleep with me? You think I stand a chance?’

  By this time we reach down by Westbourne Grove and it had a taxi rank there, and Jarvis tell Jup to try the drivers, that they does know of places. But when Jup went, I don’t know what the taxi fellar tell him, only thing he come back cursing and calling them bastards. And he vex too bad. He try to cuddle Pat and she turn away.

  ‘I bet I slap you up here tonight!’ Jup say. ‘I bet I start to get on ignorant!’

  Poor Pat just stay quiet.

  Jarvis say, ‘Man Jupsingh, you surprise me, man. You shouldn’t tell the girl a thing like that. You letting me down. You from good family, man.’

  ‘I apologise,’ Jup say, coming quiet and turning and kissing the cross. ‘I apologise, Jarvis. Sorry, man.’

  We stand up there on the pavement, and I wondering at the arse I put myself in for this night.

  ‘I know three fellars from Barbados living by Tottenham Court-road,’ Jup say. ‘We could go there and sleep. They have three bed.’

  ‘Where will I sleep?’ Pat ask.

  ‘With me, darling,’ Jup say.

  ‘No,’ Pat say, and you could see she ain’t weakening. As a matter of fact as the night wearing away so she getting stronger with the negatives.

  ‘Jesus Christ,’ Jup say, looking around desperately for wood to knock, ‘I will sleep alone on the floor, and you have a bed to yourself. What happen, you don’t trust me?’

  ‘Listen, man,’ Jarvis say, ‘let we go up by Paddington, it have a lot of places there, we bound to get one.’

  So we start to walk up the road, and on the way we pass a wooden fence and Jup seize the opportunity to knock lightly as he pass.

  We come up in a side street near to the station where it have some evil-looking joints where Londoners does go late in the night to make a stroke. Some frowsy-looking things going in, as if they just off a beat on the Bayswater Road, and some coming out, and one of them in a red dress scratching she thigh and chewing gum.

  Another set of big argument start up as we stand up opposite a hotel with a neon sign. Pat won’t go in with Jup, and we there arguing and flinging hands in the air and getting no place at all. To make things worse a police car making a rounds and coming up the road.

  ‘Stop leaning on the wall like that, man!’ Jup tell Pat. ‘You don’t see the police coming? You want them to think we is criminals?’

  Pat lean off the wall.

  The police make a rounds, and they give we a look, but they drive on up the road.

  Well, after about fifteen minutes of yes and no and kiss-the-cross Jup and Pat went inside the hotel, and me and Jarvis stand up outside waiting. We run out of cigarettes and I went up by the station to look for a machine. When I come back I see Pat there with Jarvis.

  ‘What happen?’ I say.

  ‘I am not staying in that hotel with him,’ Pat say.

  A minute after, the old Jup come out.

  ‘I get the room,’ he say. ‘Is all right? The fellar waiting for we to make up we mind. What you say, Pat?’

  ‘No,’ Pat say.

  ‘Oh, Jesus Christ!’ Jupsingh start up again. ‘You say you want to meet coloured people, and I take you around. Now you doing as if I is a criminal. I should of let you go with some of them damn’ Jamaican and let them rough you up! What you think, eh? I sure if it was a white man you would of come!’

  ‘It would not have made any difference,’ Pat say, and though she kind of uneasy about everything me and Jarvis had was to admire the consistency of the negatives she throwing at Jup.

  ‘You shouldn’t tell the girl such things, man,’ Jarvis say. ‘You shouldn’t treat the girl like that.’

  Well, I don’t know what would of happened there that night, the way things was going. The three of them argue and argue, and I draw to one side and every now and then I telling Jarvis, ‘I going home, eh,’ and Jarvis only waving his hand and telling me to wait for him, and Jup kissing the cross now without trying to hide, and rubbing his face and saying, ‘Jesus Christ!’

  People come out of the hotel to watch the bacchanal, and Jup pointing to them and telling Pat look the man waiting on us.

  At last, after about half an hour, it look like my boy cool off and reconcile to the situation.

  He turn to me. ‘Boy, I could sleep by you tonight?’

  Now I frighten from what I see that this man run basic in my room, because I staying in a respectable house and I don’t want no contention at this hour of the night, so I hesitating and hemming and hawing.

  ‘Oh God, old man, we is Indian together, from the same island, man,’ he say.

  It look as if the only way to settle the business is to say yes, so I say yes, and Jup throw his hand around my shoulder and repeating the song about how we is Indian together.

  Well, it decided that Pat should stay in the hotel, Jup by me, and in the morning early please God he would come and meet she and the both of them would catch train go back to Woking.

  We left Pat going in the hotel and start to walk back to the Water.

  ‘What you think, boy? You think them fellars in the hotel would rape she? I tell she to shut the door and lock it. So what you think, boy? You think she good for me? She all right?’

  The old Jup start up again, and only looking over his shoulder as if he mad to turn back and go to the hotel.

  ‘Is
all right, man, is all right,’ Jarvis pacifying him. ‘Take it easy. You have a place to sleep, and Pat have a place to sleep.’

  ‘Oh God!’ Jup say suddenly, feeling in his pocket. ‘I forget to bring my sun-shades!’

  ‘What the arse your sun-shades have to do with the position?’ Jarvis want to know.

  ‘Suppose sun shine bright tomorrow?’ Jup want to know.

  All the time we going, Jarvis telling Jup to look at the road good, so he won’t get lost when he coming in the morning.

  We break up when we reach the Water and Jup and me gone up in my room. I did tired and want to sleep, but Jup keep behind me all the time, asking me if I think Pat safe in the hotel, if he should go back and look after she.

  When both of we in the bed he talking in a hoarse whisper, but every now and then as if his voice break and he talking naturally, and then as if he realise it sounding loud he fall back to whispering.

  I was just falling asleep when I hear a knocking. I think perhaps the neighbour feel we making too much noise and I tell Jup to keep quiet and go to sleep. But the knocking still going on. When I look to see what it was, I see my boy leaning off the bed and lifting up the carpet to knock wood.

  I start to get vex. ‘You best hads go and sleep in the chair if you can’t sleep, man,’ I tell him.

  ‘I can’t sleep, man, this clock making too much noise. Put it under the bed. You set it to alarm at six in the morning?’

  ‘Yes,’ I say, ‘and is nearly six already.’

  He keep quiet for five minutes then he start to cough. He start to cough some big cough that rattling the bed. Cough that coming from deep down as if the man dead and ’fraid to lay down. When at last he fall asleep he start to snore like a character in a animated cartoon.