A Kind of Loving (20 page)

'I'd like to tell her I love her, I'm mad about her, but I can't do it in cold blood like, so I make do for the time being by saying, ' I wouldn't have run after you like I have otherwise, would I?'

'No, I suppose not.'

I slide my arm round her again and she comes over till her
hair's on my face. I turn my face and brush my mouth across her
cheek and a second later I'm covering her face with little short
kisses, planting them all over, on her forehead, her cheeks, her
eyes, her nose, and then on her mouth. I kiss her the same way
on the mouth, as though one long kiss isn't good enough and I've
got to go on kissing and breaking away and kissing again;, and
all the time I'm whispering her name to her over and over again.

And then, in a bit, we ease up and break away for a breather.

'Phew!" she says with a little laugh.

'It's rotten being a girl sometimes,' she says after a bit. 'Sup
pose you'd never asked me again after last Sunday. It might have
been ages before I could make you see I still wanted to go out
with you.'

'That Dorothy. She nearly gummed up the works.'

'She wouldn't have minded, y'kndw. She's a bit of a cat, really, even if she is a friend of mine. She's jealous, y'know, because I'm
going out with you. That's her trouble: she's jealous.'

'Why doesn't she find a chap for herself?' I say, easy because
I've got Ingrid and anybody can have Dorothy that fancies her.

'She reckons she doesn't like men. She pretends she's above that sort of thing.'

'Don't any of'em ever ask her out?'

'I don't think so.'

'Hard lines.'

'Well, she's not attractive, is she? I mean, let's be honest, you didn't find her attractive, did you?'

'I find you attractive,' I say, thinking it's time we were making
contact again. We kiss again, a real long slow one this time that
melts me to the soles of my boots till I think I might pass out from the way I feel about her. When we break off this time we keep our
faces together and I run my fingers ever so gently across her forehead and down her cheek and then we kiss again, and all at
once she begins to do exciting things with her tongue and I'm
holding her and holding her because
I
can't hold her close
enough. And my mind's working away now because as I see it
the way she's kissing me now she's as good as giving me the green
light to go a bit further and
I
wonder if I'm right because I'll
blow my brains out and no mistake if I balls it all up by offending her after all this. We kiss again and again she starts these wonder
ful tricks with her tongue and I think well that's it all right and
no mistake and she will think me a Sammy if I don't do some
thing now. I slip my hand into her coat and she twists a bit on the
seat to make it easier for me. In a minute I'm inside her blouse but then I'm scuppered by all the harness and whatnot she's got
on underneath. She says something and pulls away a bit and puts
her own hand up to her shoulder. Then she comes back and
whispers 'All right,' and my hand's in there again and I'm feeling
the soft firm weight and the tip coming up hard under my thumb,
and my guts are melting with tenderness for
₍
her.' God,' I'm saying
to her.' God, I'm crazy about you, Ingrid,' and her fingers are up
in my hair at the back and she's curling and twisting them and
saying, 'Vic, oh, Vic,' over and over again, and all I can think of
is this is what I was born for, this is what I've been waiting for as
long as
I
can remember. And that's not all, because later, when
my hand moves somewhere else, it's as though she's feeling just
the same way as me, as though it's what she's been waiting for,
because she quivers at my touch and sighs and then rests back in
my arm and makes little noises in her throat as I love her like I
never thought was possible except in imagination.

It's not till after that she seems to wonder and then she says in a little whisper as she leans against my shoulder, 'Vic .. . You don't think I'm common, do you?'

'Why?'

'Because of... of just now?'

'You haven't to think that,' I tell her. 'Don't think it.' And
then I'm covering her face with them little kisses again, covering
every square inch because I want her to see I'm thanking her as well
as loving her and that after tonight I love her more than ever.

It's late when I get in and the Old Lady's waiting up for me,
standing with her back to the foe and winding the alarm clock for morning. The Old Man's gone to bed apparently.

'You're a fine one,' the Old Lady says as I'm blinking in the
light.

'How's that?'

'Getting invited out to yer tea and then slippin' off like that.
I don't know what David thought, I'm sure.'

'Did he say owt?'

'He's too well-mannered for that. You could take a lesson
or two from him on how to behave yourself.'

'I told Chris, y'know. She said it was okay.'

'Oh, our Christine 'ull stick up for you: she allus did. An' anyway, what else could she say? She couldn't keep you there if you said you were going out.'

I sit down in the easy chair and unlace my shoes. I know my face
is a bit hot and red but my mouth's set because I'm not going to
let anything spoil tonight.

'You should be ashamed of yourself,' the Old Lady says.

'Look,' I say, 'I was invited to tea at me own sister's, not
Buckingham Palace. To tea. It didn't mean I'd to stay till
supper-time.'

The Old Lady picks her cup off the fireplace and drinks the last of the tea in it. 'When you're invited to tea,' she says, nagging on,
'you don't just slope off the minute you leave the table.'

'You're exaggerating, as usual. Anyway, I explained it to Chris
and she said it was all right.'

'Explained what? I don't even know where you've been that
was so important.'

I get up and turn my back to her as I hunt for my slippers
behind the chair.' I had a date.'

'With a lass?'.'
'Yes.'

'But you knew a fortnight ago you'd be goin' to our Christine's
today.'

'I was supposed to meet her last night but there was a bit of a
mix-up and we had to put it off till tonight.'

'I thought you said you were out with a mate of yours last
night?'

'I was. I told you, there was a mix-up.'

'It's all mixed up to me,' she says. 'Hole-in-the-corner work.'

I'm getting wild because she's doing it. She's turning it all
wrong. I can nearly hear her if she knew what happened in the
park tonight, the way she'd turn it into something shabby and
dirty, when it wasn't like that at all. I put my slippers on and keep
my face down, but I know she's still watching me.

' Do I know this lass?'

'No.'

She says nothing else for a minute, then she says in a funny
tight little voice, 'Well, I reckon you'll tell me what you want me
to know about her in your own good time.'

'What's for supper?'

'There's a long-bun in the bread-bowl and you can make
yourself a cup o' cocoa. I'm going to bed.'

' Have we plenty of milk?'

' We're not without.'

'I'll have a glass of milk, then.'

'Leave enough for your father an' me for breakfast, that's
all.' She moves towards the door, carrying the alarm clock that's
ticking away like billy-ho in the quiet. 'Don't be too long as you
come up, and don't leave any lights
ob.'

I go into the kitchen and find the long-bun and slice it in two
and spread it thick with best butter. I'm wondering why the Old
Lady didn't press a bit further about Ingrid; and then I come to
the conclusion that she was pleased enough at the bottom of her
to hear I've been out with a lass.

I take the long-bun and the milk and go and sit down in front
of the fire. The trouble is that underneath it all
I
think it's shabby
and dirty as well, because it's something nobody talks about,
something you put up with because it's necessary to make the
world go on, and people who enjoy it are in the same class as drunkards and gamblers. And I can't help thinking this even though I know it isn't like that at all; not with Chris and David,
surely, and not with Ingrid and me.

CHAPTER 6

I

next
morning Hassop's back, I think sooner than we expected and I'm dead sure sooner than we hoped.

'I thought we might have another quiet week,' Jimmy says as
the boss goes into his office and shuts the door behind him.
'Didn't his sister give you any idea?'

'It must have been in the envelope,' I say with a grin. What
do I care if Hassop is back? I'm happy, that's the thing. Old
Hassop isn't so bad. He does his job in his own way and if he does turn nasty once in a while, well, that's a boss's privilege.
He's got his trouble ... That sister ... If I had to live with a
weird old bird like that maybe
I'd be a bit bloody-minded at times. But, like I say, I'm happy. I haven't actually spoken to
Ingrid this morning but just to see her legs twinkling away in
front in the mist was enough to bring last night back with a rush
and make me think what a lucky, lucky dog I am. I feel like liking
people. I can even see good points in the brussen bastard Conroy.
Well, till dinner-time I can, anyway ...

What happens then is that there's half a dozen of us hanging about round the plan files near the door, having a natter before the bell goes. Somebody's just saying Conroy's name when the door bursts open and in marches Conroy himself. He stops. ' Who's talking about me?' he says.' Who mentioned my name?'

Well it wasn't me, as it happens, but this sharp answer's on the tip of my tongue without me hardly thinking and it's too
good to hold back.

'I did,' I say. 'I was just saying I'd bought a pig and I didn't know what to call it.'

Somebody behind me cracks out laughing and there's grins on
all the faces I can see except Conroy's. He just stares for a second,
going all stiff with rage.' Wha ... you cheeky young bleeder...'
And he comes for me with his arms punching out to either side,
pushing lads away to clear
a
path to me. I stand my ground. I
didn't want to pick a quarrel, not today when I'm feeling so good,
but I reckon it had to come sooner or later. My heart's thumping
because I reckon I'm in for a hiding; but I'm not going to let
everybody see me back down.

I know the only way to save myself is to get in close, so I dodge
the first punch that Conroy swings at my head and duck and
throw myself forward under his fists and grab hold of him round
the middle. I see the lino coming up to meet me as I go down, taking Conroy with me. We roll about on the floor, bashing
against plan files. I catch my ear on one of the drawer handles
and nearly shout with the pain, and all the time I'm getting these
short jabs on the side of the head as Conroy punches away and pushes and pulls at the same time, struggling to get free so's he can really let me have it. Well, I'm soon nearly weeping, the punishment I'm taking and I'm scared I might show it any time. I pull away and twist my head to try to get it out of the way and I see Conroy's fat leg right in front of my face with the trousers
pulled tight across it. I don't stop to think whether it's fair fighting
or not •
I just dip my face and bite as hard as I can.