Skinner

Contents Front Matter..................................................3 Title Page...................................................3 Publisher Information.................................4

Skinner..........................................................5 Chapter 1...................................................5 Chapter 2.................................................11 Chapter 3.................................................20 Chapter 4.................................................32 Chapter 5.................................................50 Chapter 6.................................................54 Chapter 7.................................................69 Chapter 8.................................................85 Chapter 9.................................................87 Chapter 10...............................................99

Back Matter...............................................104 Also Available.........................................104

        SKINNER    

        Edmund Romilly

  First published in 2006 by Apex Publishing Ltd POâ•‹Box 7086, Clacton on Sea, Essex, CO15 5WN www.apexpublishing.co.uk   Digital Edition converted and distributed in 2011 by Andrews UK Limited www.andrewsuk.com   Copyright © 2006 by Edmund Romilly The author has asserted his moral rights   All rights reserved. This book is sold subject to the condition, that no part of this book is to be reproduced, in any shape or form. Or by way of trade, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition, including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser, without prior permission of the copyright holder.   Production Manager: Chris Cowlin Cover Design: Andrew Macey

Chapter 1

  About a year ago today I killed someone. At least, that’s what I’ve been told. Who she was, I don’t know. I don’t know whether I did it or not. I don’t remember it all that well. I was living in a bedsitter at the time. There was a woman who lived on the floor below. It happened like this. I had been lonely for a long time. My marriage broke up, and when I left I had to have somewhere to go and this bedsitter was the first thing that came up. It was really dingy. The whole building was dingy. I didn’t mind. All I wanted was to be on my own, because I’d had enough of a lot of things, including living with someone else. I wanted to sort things out. I’ve been told that Linda was lucky to get out when she did. I don’t know whether that’s true or not. All I know is that I really got to hate her in a way, and I think I wanted to kill her. I don’t know why. Anyway, I moved to this dingy place and got a job as a labourer. It’s never been difficult for me to get work when I want, because I’m very strong and would obviously be useful on a building site. Sometimes I don’t like to work, and that’s easy too: I just sign on. I’m not bothered either way. But then was a time when I wanted to do something. I didn’t want to have any time on my hands. I felt so messed up, it was awful. I couldn’t say what I was feeling, it was just horrible. Anyway, the place where I worked, it was all right. I don’t know that the other blokes liked me so much, though. I liked them enough, but I didn’t mix with them. Like I said, I wanted to be on my own. I think there are a lot of people like me and maybe they respected me for it. I’d get there about eight o’clock in the morning and would be back about eight at night. Then the trouble started. I just didn’t know what to do with myself. For a while I would hang around the bedsit, just listening to all the noises. I didn’t mind that for a while. Then I would get a sort

of itching - I can’t describe it any better than that. I would get an itching to do something; there seemed so much energy left inside of me. I don’t know why because they worked you so hard on that building site, it was really killing. But it wasn’t more building work I wanted to do. I don’t know; as I say, I can’t describe it. Anyway, what would happen was that after a while I would go out and get drunk. I didn’t have any particular local. I would go anywhere just so long as I was left alone. I can’t stick noisy places. I’m not sure where I’m supposed to start with all this, so I’ll start with the night that I nearly attacked someone. It happened like this. I was sitting at the bar, minding my own business, when a group of people came up behind me making a din, and one of them pushed into me. It caught me on the raw, if you know what I mean. I was hoping they’d go away when they bought their drinks, but they didn’t. When the geezer bumped into me, it was obviously a mistake, but that was beside the point. I went mad and asked myself: what was this git doing that he should bump into me like that? Yet I’d been told that I must never lose my cool. I’ve been done for assault before, and the last time I came out of prison I was placed on probation. They told me I should never lose my temper because I was a “physically very powerful man with a short fuse”. I still remember the words. Anyway, I took this advice. So all I did was bottle it up and grip my glass harder. It broke and cut me. I got off the chair and just looked at them, but they hadn’t even noticed. When I got to the door I stopped and looked back, and one of them was already sitting on my chair. I very nearly went back in and had it out with him, but I didn’t. It wasn’t far to the house where I lived. I was glad to get there. I bathed my hand. I didn’t know what to do with it at first, but after a while I found a rag and used that as a bandage. After that I went out again. But I was stuck for somewhere to go, as usual. I got the feeling that nobody really wanted me in their pub. Whenever I walked into a place for the first time I’d get these funny looks. Once before I’d been into a pub I’d never been to before, and the barman took one

look at me and said, “Not in here, John.” I thought, how does he know my name? I’ve never seen him before. But I left anyway. It wasn’t my fault. There’s nothing very different about me. Maybe people are afraid of me, I don’t know. But it’s hard to take, when you feel such a loner. I wanted to be on my own, but I didn’t want to be that alone. I wanted to be accepted if I felt like being accepted after a hard day’s work. I wanted to be accepted somewhere. I asked the lads at work where they all drank, but they didn’t seem to want to know. Anyway, they lived all over the place and it would have been too far. So I was stuck with my own company, with nowhere to go really. I didn’t mind. I went to this place on the corner where I’d never been before. It was funny that I hadn’t been there because it was so close to where I lived. I think I’d been put off it because it was known as a bit of a rough house. I don’t like to be in that sort of place, because it rubs off on me. I went in there for want of anywhere else and got a pint of beer at the bar. Then I sat down with it. The place was still quiet. Nobody gave me any of the looks I’ve talked about, which was just as well. I just sat there drinking slowly. Then someone came up to me. I couldn’t make out who it was at first. Somebody behind sounded as if she were giggling. It gave me the hump. Like I said, I don’t like people coming too near. Then I felt someone tugging at my arm. I couldn’t understand it. Why couldn’t they just leave me alone, I asked myself. But she kept on doing it. After a while I turned round. A woman was standing there just giggling at me. God knows why she was giggling at me. She was drunk obviously. Then she asked me if I would buy her a drink. Now, I’ve never been much of a one for the ladies, but I’ve got my needs like everyone else, and since Linda and me broke up, well, there hasn’t been too much happening on that score. We weren’t even sleeping together for a long time before we broke up. So I looked at her. She was no oil painting, if you know what I mean, but she wasn’t that bad either. She was a bit on the big side, but

then so am I. She seemed all right, but a bit daft. It gave me the hump that she’d come and bothered me in the first place, as if I were an easy touch. I couldn’t refuse her a drink though. The barman started to give me a lot of funny looks. “Who’re you, then?” I asked. She just kept on giggling. “My name’s Sheilagh,” she finally said. “What’s yours?” I didn’t answer her. Why should I? “D’you want to sit down?” “All right then.” She sat on the bar stool next to mine and asked the barman for a double gin and tonic. He got it and I paid. “You still haven’t told me your name.” I didn’t say anything. I didn’t want to give her my name. “D’you come here often?” she asked. “No.” “I didn’t think so. I haven’t seen you here before.” Then she gave me that daft smile again and looked round the room as if everyone were waiting on her every word. I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t understand it because I didn’t want to be on my own, but I didn’t much feel like talking to her either. And to be fair, I think she understood that, because she wasn’t saying very much. We hardly said a word all evening, but I don’t mind admitting I began to like her. I don’t know why. I kept on buying her and me drinks. The gin didn’t affect her at all after a while, not any more than it did at first. Once or twice, when someone she knew came in, she’d start to giggle all over again. That got to me a bit, specially as they were all men. They didn’t seem to notice me. I don’t think they realised I was with her. At closing time we went back to my bedsitter. Nobody asked her to come, and nobody said she’d better not come, it was just an unspoken thing.

It was just as well it wasn’t very far to go, because we were both unsteady on our feet. Somewhere in my heart there was a sinking feeling. I thought that maybe I was taking the easy way out by having her come back. Well, why not? What was there against it? She didn’t think very much of my place, through the giggles. Not that I blamed her for that: it was a tip in itself, and anyway I hadn’t cleared it up for days. She put the kettle on. By then I’d started to hope that I’d be able to bang her, but I didn’t know if I’d drunk too much. Like I said, she wasn’t all that attractive, but I’d started to fancy her anyway. It was probably the booze. I was a bit put off by how heavy she was though. There were so many different feelings going on in my head. I don’t know why, but I was half thinking of Linda. I also thought that maybe I ought to put her out now and have done with it. Then she goes, “I like the strong, silent type,” giggling all the while. She was also smiling and rubbing her body against mine. It didn’t feel all that bad. I couldn’t stop thinking that other people had been really put off by how silent I was, but she wasn’t. Anyway, we got into bed after I put the light out, and we snuggled up to each other. She took her clothes off underneath the covers. It wasn’t half bad to touch flesh again but, like I say, I kept on thinking of Linda and thinking how much better she was. It was just as well she didn’t know what was going on inside my head. But she wasn’t that bad. It wasn’t too difficult to come either. Also after the first time I came again, which is very unusual for me. Normally I just want to get it over and done with. I never really knew about this, but thought that was one of the things that went wrong between me and Linda - I couldn’t satisfy her. But, then again, I could never admit that to myself. Not then anyway.

Anyway, with this girl Sheilagh it was different somehow, although I couldn’t understand it because she wasn’t nearly so pretty. Maybe it was because it was the first time. She was enjoying it too. Not that I could tell really, nor did I care overmuch. She was making all the right noises though. The second time we did it, it lasted a long time. I know that always satisfies a woman. By then my desire wasn’t all that much, so I could keep it in without getting anywhere myself. Then we went to sleep. That was the best bit, because by then I was so shagged, what with the work and all.

Chapter 2

 

I had to get up early the next morning to go to work. I made a lot of noise but she didn’t stir. I almost thought that maybe she was dead or something. She didn’t look too good in the cold light of day. When I left I thought I might never see her again, thinking that she’d probably leave while I was not there. It didn’t matter. Or I might run into her in that pub. It really didn’t matter either way. I was pissed off at having to go to work at all. I felt like that every morning. I could never get used to it, as if it wasn’t right somehow. But it would begin to get better after I’d got off the tube. It was always like that. She wasn’t there when I got back. It’s funny, but I remember almost wishing she was. I’d been wondering on the way if she’d be there or not. It was a daft thought because why should she bother to hang around? Not that she looked as if she had to be up and doing. I thought she said she had nothing to do. Anyway, when I saw that she wasn’t there, I felt lonely. Don’t ask me why. I also felt a bit moody, I must admit. I looked round the room, but nothing was gone so far as I could see. There wasn’t much worth pinching anyway. I never kept any cash in there. I sat on one of the clapped-out chairs, lit a cigarette and stared into the empty grate. I didn’t know what to do with myself, as usual. I would probably go out and get a few to drink, but I didn’t especially want to. What was I going to do, then? I didn’t know. The thought of the evening hanging before me with nothing to do in it was too much, so I got to my feet and went to the window. But the street outside didn’t have anything for me. That was why I liked it. It was just a big, empty street and, like most things I’d seen before, I didn’t find it easy to look at. I just gazed without seeing. The cigarette was coming to an end, so I lit another one and smoked that. Something was happening inside me, something that I couldn’t understand. I didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt a panic

rising in my gut which I didn’t know how to cope with. I thought of Linda, but that was no good. Everything that was ever any good between us was poisoned by what happened afterwards. The thing about it was that I could see now that most of it had been my fault. She had been selfish, I admit, but then I was a very selfish person. I could never understand the point of doing things that were not going to be of any use to me. All the time the thought of her kept coming into my brain - like she’d been when we first met. That was a long time ago when we were both quite young. We met in a swimming pool. I’d loved the look of her figure, that was all. There were loads of girls whose figures I liked at the swimming pool - that was one of the reasons I went there. But this time, with her, something was different. I couldn’t really understand it - not that I tried very hard. She told me her dad ran a fish and chip shop. I was interested and asked her where it was. She told me. It turned out I’d been there once or twice. We had something to talk about. She told me that maybe I had seen her before, as sometimes she would work there in the evenings, just to make some pin money. She had a boyfriend. Where was he now, then? Ah well. She blushed a bit. She’d come with a load of her girlfriends, and for the first time I noticed a bunch of girls at the other side of the pool all watching us and giggling. I can’t remember how we started to talk, who spoke first. All I knew was that I didn’t want the conversation to end, and for one of the few times in my life I felt that I had a lot to say, and that whatever I said it would be listened to, and there would be a comeback. We stayed and talked for so long that we both got a chill as the water was so cold and you were meant to go swimming in it. The man came along and told us to get out, as it was past closing time. We got out and I asked her if she’d like a drink when we were both dressed, and she said yes. It was then I noticed that none of her friends was there any longer. When I said this she looked

embarrassed. I realised she knew they’d left some time before. I didn’t mind at all. After that we went out all the time and got married soon after. The sex was great. The first time we slept together was the first day we met. We both thought that maybe it was not right, but I finally managed to persuade her. Then we saw each other all the time. She was such a fantastic girl. When I think of how it went wrong, I could go mad. I don’t know how it did go wrong really, except that I reckon she started to get bored with me. I’ve always been, you know, a bit difficult to get through to. Not that I mean anything by it, but I think she took that as being indifference on my part, and in retaliation, if you like, she became indifferent to me. Also the whole thing became full of problems. It was difficult to find anywhere to live and we were waiting such a long time to go on the council. Till we got a place of our own we had to live with her parents, and it was really cramped. I’m sure that did damage, although even then we were loving each other like crazy and it never seemed as if it was going to end. I don’t know why, I really don’t, but soon after we moved to our flat she started to go off me. She wouldn’t say anything. I didn’t notice at first, dummo that I am, but she would turn away from me without a word, and I was left there wondering what I’d done wrong. She went really off, somehow. She wouldn’t speak and she was moody and sulky, but whenever I tried to ask her what was the matter she just wouldn’t want to know. I wondered what was going wrong. I started to think all sorts of things, such as, was she going with somebody else? But she never gave me any reason to be suspicious, except that she was so sulky and withdrawn. I got the feeling that there was something she wanted to tell me, but couldn’t. Then she told me she wanted to end it. She just came out with it one day, after she had not spoken to me for a long time. I didn’t know what to say - couldn’t believe my ears at first. And yet I just knew she was going to do something like that. I’d been dreading

it. She said her parents were coming round to collect her things. I asked when and she said later that day, at night. I blew my top. I’ll admit I was not very nice to her then, but what could I do? I wanted to know why, and she wouldn’t tell me. She was just sulky, that’s all, and wouldn’t say anything. She wouldn’t even look at me. I shook her and she started to scream. I wanted to know why, why, why, that’s all - and she said, “Because you’re such a bastard. You don’t understand.” I let her go. She started to cry, after the screaming. Her parents did come round, and I was not very nice to them. I felt it was their fault, that they had put her up to it. I hadn’t seen them since we’d moved out of their place almost a year before. I knew they’d never taken to me and that they would probably do something sooner or later to bring me down. Linda would never let me visit them with her after we’d left. I don’t know why not. It was as if I were contaminated or something. That I minded. Well, there they were, ready to collect her stuff. I said, “Go then, and good riddance”, but I didn’t really mean it. I walked out while they cleared up. After that I didn’t see any of them again until the divorce hearing. Then Uncle Tom Cobley and all turned up. I’d tried to ring Linda at her parents’ house before then, but as soon as she discovered it was me she just put the phone down. I didn’t know what was going on. Well, what had I done wrong? That was all I wanted to know, and she wouldn’t tell me. Once I got her father, and he called me a fucking bastard, and put the phone down. I had a good mind to go round there and sort him out, but what would have been the use? I didn’t go. When the divorce came through I cried and cried, if you can believe it. Until then I’d been thinking that it was all a bad joke, a bad dream, and sooner or later she would come back to me. Or it was just a spell of hers, and sooner or later she would snap out of it. But when the divorce came through it sort of put the seal on it, and I realised there was no going back. My solicitor told me I was lucky there weren’t any children.

She got the flat. Well, why not? I didn’t want to stay there any more. I didn’t want to be reminded. But now I think about her anyway, and I can’t stand it. I don’t know why it happened, I don’t, and I don’t know why I put up with it, I really don’t. Because I could have done such a lot more. I could have tried to persuade her to come back. But I didn’t even do that. I don’t know why. She was such a lovely girl. I’ll never understand why she behaved like that. I finished the cigarette, but carried on looking out of the window. The more I looked, the more I could make out the street outside. It was as if I needed to stay there a long time before I could become bothered to look at anything at all. But as I did so, everything seemed to take on the complexion of my mood. I was sad and unhappy. I can’t explain it, and I don’t know why I should go on so. But it was the fact that I had never felt so bad in my whole life. I felt that if I thought about it too much I should go mad. And yet all I could do was think about it. It was something that I should surely have to jerk myself out of, else I would go mad, and that frightened me. All my life I have been able to get by. Living off my wits, I suppose you’d call it. But I have known others who have gone under, and I’ve always been scared that it could happen to me. I had an uncle who could not look after himself. He was a bit simple well, that was nothing unusual in my family - but somehow he was too simple to last at all. I can’t really explain it. He had no will to go on, that was it. I remember seeing him when I was a small child, shuffling about the place. He was a nuisance to others. He used to drink a lot too. He could never keep a job down, so my aunt had to do all the work to bring up the family. My mum and dad said that she had such a hard life of it. I thought, why didn’t she just leave him then? But when I said this to my mum she didn’t understand what I was on about at first, and when she did, she just looked at me as if I had said something awful. Anyway, he got run over by an underground train. Nobody knew why. Afterwards everyone said how he should always have

been with someone wherever he went, and they blamed themselves. But I don’t think he was much of a loss really. After a while I think they were glad to see the back of him, although they would never have said so. It cost a fortune to get him buried, they said. Well, I made an agreement with myself that I would never turn out like that. I was stupid, you see, but at least I knew I was stupid. It was drummed into me all the time at school. They used to tell me how stupid I was, and I remember a teacher telling me one day that I would be glad he’d told me that. I think he was right too, because in a way I think it is because I know I’m stupid that I’ve kept going. I couldn’t explain it very well, but I have always been on my guard so to speak. It’s kept me from getting too drunk too often. And it’s stopped me from getting into too many fights. Also I’ve always made sure I’ve had a job to go to if I wanted. And if I was laid off, well, I would make sure to get another one as soon as possible. Like I said, my strength was a strength, and if I’d been weak like my uncle was, I just don’t know how I would have got on. That’s why I feel sorry for him in a way, because it’s just the luck of the draw, isn’t it, whether you are strong or not. But now, ever since Linda left me, I have felt myself stretched in a way I don’t think I can put up with. It’s difficult to explain, and what I don’t understand is for a long time I never even knew Linda and managed all right then. Linda gave me something I’d never had before. Before I met her I felt there were things I would never experience. Then when I met her I felt so happy and free; it was unbelievable. My whole world changed, and I clinged onto that new world for dear life. And then when she left, everything just fell apart. I couldn’t stand it. I really couldn’t stand it. It gives me the shudders just to think about it. All of a sudden I felt that I was going to keel over. My forehead went wet and I felt faint. It was no good just standing there like that anyway, so I made to go out - I didn’t know where; but something kept me there. I don’t know why, but I couldn’t leave the window. I smoked another cigarette and another one after that. All the time I was feeling

fainter and fainter, and thinking about Linda, and wondering what she meant to me. All I knew was that I wanted her back. And yet I also knew that I was never going to get her back. I knew that. It didn’t matter how hard I tried, there was nothing that was going to get her to come round to my way of seeing things again. I didn’t know why, but that was it. She couldn’t even be bothered to listen to me on the telephone. It was as simple as that. It was that that kept me there, at the window. I must’ve stood there for hours. But eventually I did force myself away, and went out. I remember it was a very cold evening; winter was coming in, and for the first time you could really feel it. Also it was darker than I expected - I think there was a street light right outside my window; and it was later than usual, on account of my having stared at the window for so long. I didn’t know where to go, or what to do. For a moment I wondered whether to go into that pub on the corner, but then I thought not. I might see Sheilagh in there, and I didn’t want to encourage her. Leastways I knew I wouldn’t know how to handle her. I’ve never been good at that with women. And I didn’t want to get involved again. I walked about the streets for nearly an hour. I wanted to get it all off my chest. But I just couldn’t do it. The more I thought about it, the more it wouldn’t leave me alone. I began to worry that I would never be my old self again, and the more I thought about that, the more I thought I would never get back to that thing which I always recognised as myself. Sometimes at work or in the family - it even happened at school - you heard about people who they said had ‘gone off the rails’. When you asked them what they meant, it did not seem as if they were able to explain what they meant. Yet it seemed an awful thing to whoever it happened to, because you never saw them again, or if you did, they weren’t the same as before. You couldn’t communicate with them as well as you used to. Or, at least, they couldn’t communicate with you. Once a mate in an office job I once had had

to be carted off to the loony bin by the manager because he’d turned up naked at work and tried to rape the tea lady. I swear to God. He was a really good bloke too, but he was in hospital for a long time after that, and I met him once afterwards in a pub, and how he’d changed. It was frightening. He couldn’t speak so well either and kept on grinning stupidly at nothing. Somebody told me he had to take a lot of pills all the time. It really frightened me because for a long time before that I had thought that it could happen to me. I don’t know why. I got so scared wandering around on my own like that, just thinking about things, that I felt I must do something, so I thought I would go to that pub after all, and see if Sheilagh was there. I didn’t really want to, but I had no choice. She was there too, sitting at the bar talking to some men. I felt sort of shifty. I didn’t want to go and speak to her when she was with other men. But that was what I’d come for, wasn’t it? I bought a drink at the other end of the bar and looked in their direction. The beer tasted good, and it was warm inside and friendly. It was just what the doctor ordered after such a long walk. I began to think that I didn’t need to speak to Sheilagh or to anyone else for that matter. I was satisfied with being indoors, among all these people, with something to drink. So I just stayed where I was without going up to her. If she wanted to come and say hello to me, that was alright; but I wasn’t going to go up to her. She seemed to be getting on well with the others. They were a right bunch of charlies, if you know what I mean. The man behind the bar was being friendly to me for once. He talked to me a couple of times. I expect he thought, here’s a new face, let’s see if I can get him for a regular. Well, why not? I only lived down the road and didn’t exactly have very much to do of an evening.

When it came to closing time I walked quickly out of the bar, just so’s she wouldn’t see me. I don’t know why I did that, but I did. I’d been looking at her most of the evening. She must’ve seen me, but she didn’t do anything to make it look as if she had. Of course she was drunk by closing time. I wasn’t. When I got back to my bedsitter I made a cup of tea and just sat on the bed in the darkness. I stayed like that for a long time, but started to feel dizzy again, so I got into bed. I was sweating all over, it was giving me the creeps. Then I started to cry, great blubbering tears that made me feel like a baby again. I hoped no one could hear. I kept on thinking about how much I would like to have Linda back, and what I would do to get her back, but I knew there wasn’t any use even in thinking about it, and that was what made me cry so much.

Chapter 3

 

I woke up the next morning with a pain in my chest. I didn’t know what it was. Then I realised I had gone to sleep with my clothes on, and my face still felt wet. I wondered if anyone had been in during the night. Of course they hadn’t. I’d locked the door very securely. I always did. This pain, it was right inside my chest and got worse if I tried to move. As I turned round and round I noticed that I’d got very big down below, and that was hurting too. It wasn’t like when you get a hard-on or anything, it was just a big, painful lump that wouldn’t go down. I lay on my stomach and pressed it to see if it would go away, but it didn’t work. It just got more painful. I forgot about the pain in my chest though. When I next thought about it, it had gone. I felt so damp and sticky, it was unbelievable. That was a headache as well, because it was such a business having a bath in that place. The bathroom was right up on the top floor and ten to one somebody else would be using it when you wanted one. I got out of bed, took off my clothes and put my dressing gown on over some pyjamas. When I got upstairs the bathroom was empty, which was good, but I’d forgotten that you needed a match to light the ascot. So I had to go all the way down again to get one. On the way I thought maybe someone else would take it in the meantime - the bathroom I mean. I left my dressing gown in there just in case. I hardly ever have a bath before going to work, which doesn’t matter at all because there are no tea ladies there or anything. But this morning I felt as if I needed one somehow. I felt that I was unclean and needed to eradicate the dirt from my body. I was just coming out of my room in a hurry when I bumped into him. By him I mean the man who lives in the room opposite. I’ll be honest, he fair gives me the creeps, although I don’t really know why. Except that there was something wrong with his back. I

mean he could never walk up straight. Whenever I saw him, and that wasn’t often because I’d avoid him like the plague, he’d be stooping down as if he’d lost something on the ground. And then, in order to sort of compensate for it, he would thrust his head up in the air as far as it would go, as if what he was really looking for was in the sky. He always had this real miserybags look on his face, and I don’t blame him for that. I never saw him without his clothes on either, which was odd because I’d often seen him coming from his room first thing in the morning, and it was as if he’d slept in that blue blazer of his and grey flannel trousers all night. He had a really haunted face too. I’ve never seen anything like it before. He looked so sad, it was unbelievable. Like I said, that wasn’t surprising, because he was only about five feet four, all told. He ran this crummy estate agent’s office over the road, and he did it all by himself, and I don’t think he was very successful at it. So, as well as his back, he didn’t have very much else going for him either. I really wish I hadn’t bumped into him that morning. For some reason it brought the pain back, and I felt queer all over. He, as usual, did not even look at me, but walked past just as if I didn’t exist. We’d lived on the same landing for three years. He really gives me the creeps. Once I had a nightmare about him. In it he was just walking towards me with his hands held together in front as if he were a priest or something. The nearer he got, the bigger and more haunted looking his eyes became. I think I woke in terror that night. I wished I hadn’t decided to have a bath now. If I hadn’t, I wouldn’t’ve seen him. But I did have a bath, and then I put my clothes back on. There wasn’t much to that, just a pair of jeans and a donkey jacket. I had this old pair of boots I was really fond of. I’d had them for years and they were still just as good. I was dreading the day when I would have to throw them away, they had become such a part of me. I almost thought of them as myself, somehow. I always

put them on with great care. It was like a ritual. It took me such a long time to put them on anyway, as they had many laces to them. I took my time about it too. I loved the feel of their leather; it was real leather. They’d cost a fortune, but they were worth it. Now they were caked with the dirt of so many building sites. I preferred them that way. It was as if they had been really used, and I loved that feeling, and I loved the feeling of them on my feet. Some of the lads on the building site envied them too. Many’s the time one of them has asked me if he could buy them, and the answer was always the same. I would not part with them for my life. Anyway, I walked with them to the tube, which was down the other end of the road and across the street. I can’t stick the tube, and hated this part of the day the most. I wished I didn’t have to use it but, to be honest, I’ve never taken a driving test and I don’t think I’d be able to pass one if I tried. Also I’ve always thought I’d look daft on a bike - it’s the sort of thing for kids - and the bus is far too slow. So the tube it had to be, but it was always like a nightmare. I felt so cramped in it, and felt like shouting out all the time. My worst nightmare was when it was so crowded that you had to stand right up next to people, and they were pushing at you and you were pushing at them, and any moment you felt you would suffocate or you would be forced to shriek out just in order to survive. I couldn’t stand it. It always brought me out in a cold sweat, and I’ve always thought that even if I survived one morning of it I couldn’t possibly survive the next. The other thing is that where I was working at the time was so far from where I lived. It was right down in Croydon and I had to change twice before getting onto the train at Victoria. That was something else I minded about no longer living with Linda, because a mate of mine who lived in the same street also worked on the same building site and would always give me a lift. He was a real lad; so knowledgeable it always used to put me to shame. I sometimes caught Linda looking at him, but I didn’t like to think of that. It made me so angry that once I made up my mind to refuse his lifts he’d know why - because he always used to come in afterwards and

chat up the wife. I couldn’t really stop him from coming in, could I? Not when he’d given me a lift all the way back. But it got so it really put me out, yet what he was offering was such a good thing that I couldn’t turn him away. I also thought that if I did I would get into some kind of trouble with Linda, which would’ve been a bad thing because even then I was sensing that things were not going right between us. Anyway, even so I missed not having him around at this time because I felt more and more as if I were on my own, and I didn’t like that, no matter what I tried to say to myself. It was always the same at work too. Some of the lads would be fiddling around at the side, getting ready with a few bits and pieces. Some would still be in the cabin drinking tea. Then the guv’nor would call us all to order and we would get our gear together. Come eleven o’clock we were all exhausted, so we’d all break for a cup of tea and a smoke. You weren’t supposed to smoke during working hours, but everybody did. It was funny because there was hardly any conversation ever, certainly not in the morning. Come the afternoon we’d all relax a bit, and it became really matey. That had nothing to do with the amount of work we got done. We were always a good crew, in fact. The thing was that each of us knew that at the end of the day it would be up to the guv’nor whether he took us on for the next job or not. So we had to prove ourselves all the time. There were no such things as unions where we worked. It was simply who could do most, who could do best, who was the fittest. I didn’t mind it really. I liked it because for the many hours I worked each day the rest of my life left me alone. I could really get into the work. I knew they thought I was a good lad, and many was the time the guv’nor said I was such a good example to the others that it was a pity I didn’t try to do better for myself. I was really proud of that and always tried to live up to it. I knew that whenever I wanted I could always get more work with him, and once or twice when I decided not to work for a spell he was always disappointed and told me to come back just as soon as I was ready.

He told me I would never make a guv’nor, no matter how good I was, because at the end of the day I never seemed to be committed enough. The first time I told him I thought I would take some time off, I do believe he was shocked by what I said; just like my parents had been when I told them what I thought of Uncle Albert. But I didn’t regret it. I didn’t particularly want to be a guv’nor. I was making good money anyway, more than enough for what I needed on my own. And I didn’t particularly want the responsibility of running other men. So I was happy with the situation and used to really enjoy it. But that particular morning I remember I was tired and felt a bit off colour. I put it down to the booze, although I hadn’t drunk any more the night before than I usually did. Also that woman was on my mind, although why she should’ve been I don’t know. The lads always knew me for an uncommunicative bloke, although they respected me. To be honest, if I gave off that I wanted to be left alone, well, I was left alone. But this time it must’ve been worse because one of them said something. “What’s it got to do with you, mate?” I said, although I didn’t know why I had to be so off with him. He just backed off and I didn’t speak to anybody else for the rest of that morning. At twelve-thirty we broke off for lunch, as usual. Some of the lads brought sandwiches with them, but most went down the pub. I just stayed where I was, with a cigarette and a newspaper. But that was just a front. I don’t know why, but something seemed to be fiddling with my mind, yet I didn’t know what it was, because it wasn’t Linda or anything, although that was bad enough. No, I’d got over that to an extent, or rather, like I said, my job blotted it out a bit. I could always count on my job to blot that out. I kept on thinking about the way I felt when I woke up that morning. It was funny. I just couldn’t understand it.

What was going on in my mind? It bothered me. I didn’t feel as if I was myself any more. I felt as if I was beginning to lose myself for the first time. At the same time I was getting all sorts of cramps. I’d got them ever since I was a child, but never as badly as this. I’d had one this morning, and now I was getting one again. Soon I was doubling up. I could scarcely hold the newspaper. “Are you all right, mate?” It was the same bloke again. I looked up. “Yes.” “Here, let me ...” I wasn’t sure what it was he wanted to do. He was a good lad. Will was his name. He hadn’t been on the building site long. “It’s all right, mate.” Some of the others had come to have a look. “It’s just cramp,” I said. “I get it from time to time.” But never as badly as this. “Oh,” they said, and walked away. I couldn’t believe it: I was doubled up in pain. The newspaper was flickering away somewhere. Will just continued to look at me, his mouth open. “What are you staring at? Can’t you go away like the rest of them?” He just opened and shut his mouth like a fish He didn’t move. “Fuck off, can’t you?” I think he did go away then, but I wasn’t noticing much by then because I’d fallen on my side. I thought I was going to die. I stayed like that for ever such a long time. Finally I realised everyone had gone to lunch. As they went they gave me a funny look, but that’s about all they did. I didn’t know whether to thank them for it or tell them to go to hell. Will, as he passed, looked at me very closely, but he didn’t do any more than that.

A long time later I started to feel the pain going. The guv’nor was away, otherwise he might’ve called the doctor. I slowly sat up and felt my stomach. It seemed all right. It wasn’t as if I’d eaten something that had disagreed with me or anything, because I hadn’t eaten anything at all that day. I never do till teatime. The funny thing was, as I was lying there I was so doubled up with pain that I couldn’t think of anything else, and that was sort of a relief. The moment I got better I started to think of Linda again, and of that other girl, Sheilagh. I didn’t know what I was thinking really, except that I was thinking of them. I didn’t know what to do, whether to go home sick or try to get back to work. It was late in the afternoon anyway. I could hear all the men clanking about the site just around the corner, and it must’ve been Terry who was driving the bulldozer because that was supposed to be my job that afternoon. Well, let him have it. I didn’t mind at all, which was odd because I reckon I would’ve normally. I thought I’d better go and join them, but somehow I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to tell them I was going home either. They wouldn’t think very much of me for that. I thought of telling that guy Will, but I thought against that too. I really didn’t like the idea of slinking away without telling anyone, but that’s what I was going to do. I don’t know why, but I wanted to get back to my bedsitter to have a think about things. I was fed up with the work. What was the point of doing it day in, day out, when there was no one to come home to? It was that I wanted to think about. I got my jacket from the store and went out the back way. I reckoned that when they realised I’d gone they would be glad, as they must’ve thought there was something wrong with me. I didn’t know what I was thinking about on the way back. Once I remember catching a man’s eye on the tube. I quickly looked away. It scared me to ask myself what that man must’ve been thinking, because there had been a very funny look in them - his

eyes, I mean. It was not like me to look down whenever I caught someone looking at me. He was a skinny little man with a greasy face and popping eyes. He was the sort of man I always thought worked in a lowly way in an office; the sort of man I had always felt, what you might say, contempt for. We only looked at each other for a second, but somehow I have carried his face in my head ever since. It was because I realised we were of the same kind, that man and me, the same flesh. I can even remember the clothes he wore: a blue suit that didn’t really fit him - you could tell that even when he was sitting down and an orange tie. I’ve often dreamt about him since, which is odd, because what has he got to do with me? What’s more odd, I’ve often thought about him at the same time as thinking about that bent-up man who lives in the bedsitter opposite mine. I think I came to the conclusion that they were in league together somehow. I can’t explain it any better than that. After that I couldn’t stop looking at a woman who was sitting opposite me. I knew her type all right. I once read an American gangster story and one word of it that has always stuck in my mind is ‘blowsy’. Well, I would’ve used that word to describe her. She was really blowsy, if you know what I mean. She was what the lads at work would call ‘horny’, but I preferred ‘blowsy’. She kept on looking at me too - all the way back. Her mouth was open and I was really surprised that she could stare back for so long. It almost made me look away. I thought that if I asked her off with me, she would’ve come. I don’t know why, but I didn’t feel like it. Thinking about it, I wasn’t able to look her in the face as much as she could me. Her legs weren’t together and her skirt was really short and tight. She kept on moving them this way and that. I couldn’t stop looking at her, but I had to look away as well. It made me angry. I kept on thinking, what if I were to follow her home and screw her whether

she liked it or not? The thought excited me, but I felt paralysed. I felt she was leading me on, and I didn’t know what to do. She got off at the stop before mine. I almost followed her but I didn’t. I really wanted to know if she knew what I’d been thinking, or if I was just dreaming or what. But I knew she had noticed me pretty much. Just as she was leaving the train, a man brushed past her and said sorry in a deliberate sort of way, but she didn’t look at him at all. I felt if it’d been me she would’ve turned and smiled. I kept on thinking I should’ve got off with her, but at the same time I was sort of surprised at myself because I don’t normally have thoughts like that. Suddenly I saw myself pushing her onto a bed and screwing her whether she liked it or not. It really turned me on. I’m not a violent man, and I didn’t know what to do with such thoughts. I wondered what she would’ve said if I’d gone up to her in the street and said, “Hello, I saw you on the tube. I liked the look of you.” “I like the look of you too, big boy,” she would’ve said. “Where shall we go?” I nearly missed my stop. I felt light-headed when I got off. I’d completely forgotten about the cramps. There was something really sexy about the place and I just felt like talking to whatever girl came my way. I did once too, but she just looked at me as if I were mad. That didn’t bother me at all. Then I accidentally-on-purpose bumped into another girl on the way home. She was really sexy and when I bumped into her I could feel her big, hard tits against my chest. She looked at me puzzled for a bit, then giggled and tried to walk on. I got the feeling that she hadn’t meant to giggle, but even so I wasn’t going to let her go just like that. She was very big and had dark hair. “Will you leave me alone?” I heard her shout, but it was as if it were coming from somewhere else. She backed away and looked at me as if I was something out of the zoo.

“Sorry, love,” I said cheerily, and went on my way. Something was happening to me which I couldn’t describe, but when I got home it almost overcame me. I sat on the bed and didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. So I did both. I swear to God. One minute I was giggling like a child and the next I was beside myself with tears. I felt so funny because I knew I should’ve been at work and I couldn’t really think why I wasn’t. Now that the cramp was gone I felt as right as rain, except that I felt funny. I kept on lunging forward on the bed with my hands between my legs, as if I couldn’t trust them not to do something without me wanting them to. I must’ve been sat like that for a long time because it was dark when I looked out of the window. I seemed to have come round, only I didn’t realise I was so far away. It was like coming round after a bad dream. It took a few minutes to sort it out in my head. Then I thought I must do something or else it would start happening all over again. My legs felt so heavy when I tried to lift them off the bed. I just couldn’t do it without trying really hard. My boots had made the sheets all muddy, because as usual I hadn’t bothered to make the bed that day. I would have to get some clean ones. Suddenly I saw my mother come into the room. There she clanked, all white and floppy, with a black Brillo pad on top of her head. She was smiling that daft smile of hers. I felt sick. I’d never wanted to see her again, not after what she’d done. But it was just a dream. One moment she was there, the next moment she was gone. It was all happening inside my head. I felt sick. I thought I was going to puke. The muzzy feeling came back, and the dizziness. I went to the basin and leant over it, but nothing came out. I felt so dizzy I had to cling onto the sides. Then the whole thing came away in my hands, and I was left carrying it like a fool. Water went everywhere. I just stood there, not knowing what to do. I put my hand up to stop the flow of water and just shouted out. I don’t know what it was I shouted. I heard a knocking on the door.

“What’s going on in there?” It was Mrs Fortune, the landlady. I shouted out some more and she unlocked the door with a key of her own. I didn’t want to look at her. “Oh my God!” she said. “Here, you get out of here and let me see to this.” I could see her body bending over the pipes and turning something off. The water stopped. I felt silly just standing there holding the basin like that. “Here, give that to me.” She needed two hands to hold it. She just dumped it onto the bed. There was a funny look on her face. “You men, honestly. You can’t deal with anything, can you? Look at all this mess. I’ll have to get a mop.” “I’m sorry, Mrs Fortune.” “Why don’t you go out for a drink or something while I clear up? I may have to get the plumber round.” “All right then.” I felt stupid. “You’ll have to pay, you know. These emergency plumbers cost a fortune.” “Yes, I know.” She was looking at me now. I’d always gone for her wide open eyes and busty figure. She was wearing those slacks of hers which made her bum look really good. I sometimes used to wonder what she thought of me, if anything, but the trouble was she had this lorry driver for a husband, who was even bigger than me. She kept going on about the plumbing with her voice raised. The more she said, the more it excited me. I ended up just staring at her. She had these really big green eyes you could see your reflection in. There was something about her - I can’t really describe it - that really turned me on. I felt as if I could see her tits underneath the jersey. She wasn’t half bad for a tart turned forty, which is what she once told me she was.

Then she smiled. “Well, what are you smiling at? Go on, why don’t you go out for a walk or something while I clear up?” So I just went without saying nothing. She would sort it out. And it was the truth, I always was useless in the home. But I looked round at her when I left. There’d always been something between us, or so I thought. She smiled at me. I smiled back. “Your husband away, is he?” “Yes.” “I’ll come and see you later if you like.” “All right.” Her smile grew bigger, or so I thought.

Chapter 4

 

I couldn’t believe my luck. For as long as I’d lived at that place I’d fancied her. And it had taken just one word - just one word! It wasn’t even that. I hadn’t even said anything. But I knew, just knew. As I say, I couldn’t believe my luck. I just knew what was going to happen that night. They must’ve thought I was as daft as a brush at that pub. Even Sheilagh was giving me the hump. When I first walked in she was turned looking at the door, but when she saw me she just turned away. I think I must’ve had a grin on my face. Well, sod her. I didn’t need her now. I never needed her, not with Mrs Fortune waiting for me back home. It was good her husband was away. I used to hear him talking about me, saying loudly that they should never have taken me in; and when she asked him why, him not being able to answer. That was when they lived on the ground floor, and you could always hear what they said. They meant you to an’ all. Then they moved to the basement and you couldn’t hear any more. A Doctor Jellinek took over their rooms. He was all right; he was just another old man. The place was swarming with them. That was it - the Fortunes took in old men and I was the exception. They thought it would be easier that way. That was why he didn’t like me, because I was a threat. Well, I was going to show him. I drank my beer as I thought of that. Like I say, I was looking forward to it, except that I didn’t want him finding out. But then again, there was something about Mrs Fortune that made me think she wouldn’t tell. She had that look in her eyes. Come to think of it, I didn’t even know her first name. That was why he hadn’t wanted me to move in - he knew it would happen, didn’t he?

Then a funny thing happened. I’d completely forgotten about what I’d been going through that day. But now it came back to me and it made me sick. What would she think if I told her? I drank my beer again. Of course I couldn’t tell her. She’d think I was mad. She’d get scared. I didn’t want that to happen. I don’t know why, but I was a bit scared. I finished the pint and went to buy another one. It was difficult getting to the bar. I think it was my fault: I couldn’t seem to move properly. When I got back to my seat somebody’d taken it. I thought I heard Sheilagh laugh behind me, and I didn’t know what to do. “That’s my seat,” I said. It must’ve done the trick because the man looked like a cunt and got up and left. I sat down and saw Sheilagh looking at me from her stool at the bar. She was laughing like a drain. “Well, how are we tonight, big boy?” she shouted. It didn’t sound like her somehow. I pretended she wasn’t talking to me and just carried on drinking my beer as if nothing had happened. She didn’t try it on a second time. There was a man standing next to her - or leaning on her, I should say. He was a young bloke with glasses, long hair and skinny legs with his arm round her back, like she was a great big dog or something. He kept on stroking it. I ignored them because they kept on getting in the way of my thoughts. Anyway, I felt sort of strung out. I thought about leaving, but I still had most of the pint to go. I didn’t want to leave anyway. I couldn’t help hearing her laughing, though. It was driving me mad. I looked at her and there she was, a great fat dog about to fall off the stool. It was only thanks to the skinny man hanging onto her that she didn’t. She was such a fucking turn-off; and to think it was just the other night. “You seem very interested, big boy. Why’ncha come over?”

The skinny man was looking round too. He had a little white rat’s face that was laughing. She was looking at me as she’d looked before, just when I was about to screw her the other night - sort of calculating and enjoying things. I couldn’t stop staring at her. I felt myself go red. I wanted to get up and brain her with the glass. I nearly did, but instead just threw it at her. She screamed, but it flew over her head anyway and hit the wall on the other side. The whole place went quiet. The skinny man started to walk forward. “Here, cut that out,” he said. He didn’t know what hit him. Then I didn’t know what was happening, because he was on the floor and I was on top of him, and people were trying to pull me off. I just kept on hitting him. There was blood all over his face and his glasses were broken. My mind went blank. I swear I didn’t know what I was doing. The next thing I knew I was standing up and facing a bunch of men who were shouting. The skinny man was rolling around on the ground, screaming. These men were looking at me, but I seemed to be seeing things that weren’t there. Everything was too bright for my eyes. I don’t know how I got out of the pub, if I was pushed or what. I heard somebody shouting something at me. I must’ve left under my own steam because I would never’ve let them throw me out. I just remember looking at all these men and thinking something really peculiar. Just then I didn’t know whether to go for them or not. That’s it; I considered it but didn’t. Maybe there were just too many of them. But that has never scared me before. That skinny bloke had it coming to him. As for Sheilagh, well, I’d forgotten all about her. I hope she was gutted.

It took me a bit of time to decide what to do next, when I was outside. I was scared of the police because I thought somebody might’ve called them. I thought it best to get out of the area as fast as possible. I’d completely forgotten about Mrs Fortune for the time being. I was shaking all over, but I didn’t seem to be hurt much. I couldn’t remember anybody hitting me. It didn’t seem as if I’d done anything, though. Why should I ruin my evening? I thought. Nothing had changed. I just wished I hadn’t gone into that particular pub, that’s all. ’Course, I’d never be able to go in there again, but that was no loss. I thought I’d go up to the one on the High Street that I’d seen before and liked the look of. I wasn’t finished drinking. I ran to the top of the hill but after that it was a nice walk. It was good to get some fresh air into the system after that bit of argybargy. All I could think about was that that skinny bloke had it coming to him for a start. I didn’t know who he was. I had nothing on my conscience. I’d just try to see that that sort of thing didn’t happen again, that’s all. Once I’d got to the other pub, I sat on my own in a corner of it and started drinking again. It was on the fourth pint of the evening that I really started to feel sorry for myself. Why should I care? I’d had enough. It was all too much - the work and the loneliness an’ all. What pissed me off the most was that I didn’t seem to have anybody, if you know what I mean. Nobody seemed to want to talk to me. All those people over there, for instance, they were getting on fine. One or two of the men who’d come in on their own since me were now talking to people. One was even chatting up a bird. Well, good luck to him; but I was on my own. If God existed, he wasn’t looking very kindly on me, was he? I supped some more beer. It’s funny how the rest never tastes as good as the first pint. I started to feel peculiar again. I felt cold inside.

I don’t know why, but the thought of death came into my head. I wondered what it would be like. I didn’t think it’d be all that bad. It was just a question of waiting, really. Everybody’s got to go sooner or later, haven’t they? It’s funny, but when I was a child I used to get fucking terrified at the thought of it. It used to suffocate me and I’d go all weak and wobbly at the knees. I’d also feel sick and sweaty as if I were going to die anyway. The only good thing to do would be to talk to my sister about it. The feeling went on and on until I met Linda. It used to come in waves like sickness, and when it did come there was nothing I could do about it except wait until it was over. It used to paralyse me. Then when I met her, Linda I mean, it was not her itself but screwing her that did the trick. I can remember clearly before we were married lying on top of her and looking into her eyes. She was just looking back at me not saying anything or anything like that. Her hair was spread over the pillow and there was so much of it I couldn’t believe my eyes. We were both in the altogether and we’d just done it. I thought, I’m not scared of death any more now and I never will be again. I don’t know why it was her that did the trick, if it was her. But I knew that what I was thinking was true and would remain true until the end of time. Then I rolled over and cried. I can still remember what she asked: “Whatsa matter, John?” And I said, “It’s nothing. It’s nothing any more.” And now as I was looking at my glass of beer I thought that in the period of a few short years I’d grown old, because now I wanted to die more than not, and it was life that made me feel sick and afraid. It was myself I was afraid of, of what I might do, of what suffering might yet be in store. It’s funny, because it wasn’t Linda I wanted back any more, it was death. I wanted to keep my dreams as they were, not have them wrecked by more of the shit that God had been doling out ever since she left. I was at it again. It seemed you would always be frightened of something, so it wasn’t much good getting rid of one fear if you were going to replace it with another, was it? I remember my

mother telling me - this was before she left - that if you loved God that would be all right, and you would grow over the years until you were wise enough to be received by him. But I didn’t feel any of that, only an ache that I knew was slowly turning me into something that was not myself. These days I kept on moving my head without meaning to, as if something were possessing me or something, and trying to keep in control. I thought for a moment it was because I wanted to hold back the tears, but it wasn’t that. It was something else. I thought I’d better leave. I’d had enough to drink. One thing for sure, I wasn’t going back to that job again. The work didn’t bother me, I just didn’t want to see the people there any more, that was all. They didn’t mean anything to me any more; they never had really. Why should I work anyway, when there was no one to come home to? I could get by on the dole. I burst out laughing as I left the room. I don’t know why. Out of the corner of my eye I could see the others looking at me. I was only laughing because I’d remembered a joke somebody told me on the building site. I thought I’d go for a bit of a walk before going back to Mrs Fortune’s. I wanted to get some more fresh air into my lungs and I didn’t really feel in a fit enough state to see her anyway. I didn’t want to put her off. I wanted to have a think about things. But it was no good. My mind just wouldn’t leave me alone. The more I walked, the more I seemed to poison myself. The cold and the dark made it worse. I kept on walking round in circles. I didn’t want to be in this kind of mood with Mrs Fortune. I wouldn’t know how to handle myself and I thought I would put her off. I wanted everything to be good between us, because when all was said and done it had been a long time coming. But somehow I couldn’t get myself to go and see her. I felt I just wouldn’t be able to handle it. She would treat me like that tart on the tube. She would get the wrong idea. I didn’t want that to

happen, but at the same time I wasn’t really all that bothered either way. Why should I put myself out for her? She’d never done me any favours. I wanted to be in control of myself whatever I did. That was the problem. Even if I’d gone in there with half a mind to kill her, well, that would’ve been all right provided it was what I wanted. It was this not knowing that was really getting to me. I didn’t know what I was on about and it didn’t make any difference the faster I walked. When I did get back, I didn’t go down to her bit at first. I just couldn’t. I went up to my own bedsitter. It was just to sort of get my bearings. I wanted to have a think about things before I went down to the basement. What I couldn’t understand was, what was there to think about? It was either go down there, or not; and I couldn’t understand what was holding me back. Had my bottle gone? If so, I couldn’t understand why. I’d had plenty of women before. It was something that used to scare me when I was a young lad, but not now. Surely not now. And I knew her anyway. I’d known her ever since I first moved in. We always got on all right. I think we always knew there could be something between us. Although, funnily enough, we’d always kept our distance. I knew she was married, of course, and she knew about my divorce because I told her. Now that I remember it, she’d been very cool about that - about my divorce, I mean. It was almost as if she hadn’t wanted to know. I used to watch her back as she went towards the door that led to the basement. You could do that through the banisters if you were going up the stairs. This was always after a conversation we’d have, if she happened to be there when I came in. She was always the one to end it first, though - the conversation, I mean. Sometimes, as she went, she’d look up through the banisters and catch me looking at her, but she didn’t seem to mind. She always had this great big smile on her face. It made me feel really randy. It was like she was daring me to do something, although what was I supposed to do because I was already on my way up and was always stuck for something to

say anyway. She had beautiful long fair hair, but she wasn’t like any of these dolly birds or anything like that, because there was something really earthy about her, if you know what I mean. You could see her working in a pub or something, having a good word to say to everybody. I caught myself dreaming about her. There was a smile on my face. Why should I be dreaming about her when I could see her this very minute? I couldn’t understand it. I got angry with myself and got up and went towards the door. But I still couldn’t do it! There was something holding me back. The more I thought about it, the more I thought it must be because I was afraid. Afraid of what? She was just Mrs Fortune, she wasn’t a devil or anything. Over and over again we’d stopped on the stairs for a chat. I’d always fancied her and I was right in thinking that she fancied me. I had to force myself to go through that door that night; and down the stairs. And, when I got to her front door at the bottom of the basement stairs, I had to make myself knock on it. I knocked again when I didn’t get a reply. Nothing happened. I tried again, but then nearly went on my way. The trouble was, I was drunk and couldn’t think properly. Then I saw a light and heard a voice. “Who is it?” “It’s me, Mrs Fortune.” “Oh.” Her voice trailed off. The door opened. She stood there in her nightdress. There was a smile on her face but not much of one. I must’ve smiled at her because her own smile got a bit bigger, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. The whole thing was, well, how shall I say, awkward. I was about to walk in when I thought I’d better ask first. “’S’alright for me to come in?” “It’s very late, Mr Skinner.”

I think she must’ve been sleeping, because she seemed a bit out of it. “Yes, I suppose it is.” “Some other time perhaps.” “Alright then.” I was about to walk away when it didn’t seem very fair to me. She’d started to shut the door by the time I said, “No, hang about.” She wasn’t smiling any more. A frown had come into her face. But she waited to see what I had to say. The only trouble was, I wasn’t saying anything, as usual. Then, I don’t know why, I looked at the floor. “Is anything the matter?” I still couldn’t say anything. I couldn’t even look at her. I felt bloody great tears rolling down my cheeks. “Oh, whatsa matter, Mr Skinner?” I scarcely heard her say it. I felt a cunt. It was as if I’d wet myself further down. “Oh, look, Mr Skinner, we can’t hang about here all night. Look, I’m sorry if I led you on earlier. I am married, you know. What d’you think he’d say if he came back and found you in here? He’d go right up the wall. Oh, Mr Skinner, do stop crying. It can’t be as bad as that. Have you had too much to drink?” I felt weak at the knees. I thought I would just keel over like a baby who hasn’t learned to walk. I couldn’t stop crying. I didn’t know why I was behaving like this. And I couldn’t say anything to her! “You’d better come in,” she said, and walked down the passage, leaving me to follow. But I just couldn’t. I couldn’t do anything! She turned at the end of the passage. “Are you coming in or what? Oh God. Look, Mr Skinner, you’re just a tenant here. Nothing to do with me. I don’t know how to deal with this. I’m sorry. What d’you think others would think if they came in? We’re bound to wake someone up.”

“I’m sorry.” ‘You’ve got a tongue in your head, then? What are you doing crying, a grown man like you? I know it can be hard, but you should really keep yourself together, just like the rest of us. Why don’t you get a girlfriend or something? I’m sure there’re plenty around who would jump at the chance.” She had a big heart did Mrs Fortune. That was what always drew me to her. But now I couldn’t move! “Let’s make a cup of tea, then.” “No, I’m sorry, Mrs Fortune. I’d better be going.” I’d been hanging onto a banister because I thought I would just drop down dead at any moment, but my hand was so wet it began to slide off. “I’ve woken up now anyway. Come on.” She went out of sight. I shut the door and followed her. I’d never been into their place before but I hadn’t missed anything. It wasn’t really any different from the bedsitters except that there were more of them. The kitchen was nice and big, though. We sat in that. She didn’t seem to want to face me, because after she’d put the kettle on she kept on staring at the wall behind the cooker. I didn’t know what to do with myself either. I’d stopped crying but I still felt sort of at a loss. “D’you want a handkerchief?” “No, it’s alright.” The kettle boiled. “It’s funny, isn’t it,” she said, still looking at the wall, “but you’ve lived in this building for how long now, and I still don’t really know you.” “No.” “I don’t know any of the people who live upstairs. My husband doesn’t like it.” “So we noticed.” She turned and looked at me for the first time, then looked away, embarrassed.

She hadn’t bothered to cover herself up. I could see her tits coming out of her dressing gown. But when she looked back at me she saw what I was doing and quickly covered herself up. “You’re a changeable one, aren’t you? It’s only a few moments ago you were crying.” I didn’t like to think I’d been crying, specially in front of somebody else. “What’s the matter?” She poured the tea. I didn’t say anything. When she came to the table she seemed very scared of me. I could’ve sworn she looked around to see if there was anything she could use, just in case I did something. I wasn’t going to do anything. “I got into a fight.” “Let’s have a look at you.” She came up right close and bent over my head. Her dressing gown fell open again. I could smell the sweat on her, and some perfume. “Well, you’ve got a bruise. Not a very big one. My husband came back once with half his teeth missing.” “Why do you call him your husband?” “What do you mean?” “Why don’t you call him by his proper name?” “I don’t know. Do you want anything on that?” “No, I’ll be alright.” “Drink your tea.” I did as I was told. She sat at the table at the other end. She lit a cigarette. In this kitchen light you could see that she was forty, but that gave her something special. I couldn’t describe it. She had a good face. She looked as if she’d had her fair share of suffering, too. “When’s he coming back, anyway?” “Who?” “Gary.”

“My husband? I don’t know. He’ll ring up when he’s ready. Sometimes he’s gone for weeks on end.” “Do you get lonely?” She looked at me. “What do you think?” “Do you mind?” I reached across and took one of her cigarettes. I didn’t feel drunk any more. She just went on looking at me as if this time she didn’t know what to say. “I thought you were going to carry on crying when you came in here. But you’ve perked up.” “Yes.” “Well then.” I grinned. “Well what?” She smiled a bit. I was hoping she might relax. “Good tea.” “Have another cup.” “Thanks, I will. You got anything stronger with it?” “Yes I have.” She went to a cupboard and got a bottle of whisky out. She poured two glasses. “I don’t normally, but as it’s a bit unusual what with you crying an’ all.” “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” “We all do, love. I cry most days when he’s around.” I didn’t say anything. I should’ve thought. Now you come to think of it, you could tell he beat her up. This time when she looked at me I thought she was going to cry. Still holding the whisky bottle, she said, “Oh God. You’ve set me off now.” “Here.”

I got up and took the whisky bottle from her. I felt like helping her to her seat. She wasn’t crying exactly, just looking away and looking as if she might. She had her hand to her head, as if she had a headache. Even so, I couldn’t help looking at her tits. They were really turning me on. “Here. Don’t cry, love.” I touched her and she fell against my shoulder. She was quivering. “You shouldn’t, you shouldn’t have started me off!” “I’m sorry.” She sat down where she was, and I stood over her not knowing what to do. “Is it that bad?” “Yes!” She was screaming. I looked around. I don’t know. I thought someone else might be in the room, her husband or something. It was a daft thought. She was crying so loudly. I didn’t know what to do. I just waited. I had a drink of the whisky. “Here, drink some. It’ll make you feel better.” “No it won’t. It never does.” “How much do you drink, then?” “A bottle of that a day.” Christ! These women, they can really put it away. As I sat there I thought of a plan. I would just wait till she’d finished. It was better for her to get it all out. Who knows, she might’ve bottled it up for years. At the same time I thought, the bastard. “I’m sorry.” “No need to apologise. Just returning the favour.” She laughed a bit at that. It was the first sign she was coming round. “Where d’you keep the tissues, love?” “In the bathroom. First on the right in the passage.”

I went to get some and thought, the bastard. I’d never done that to Linda. That hadn’t stopped her leaving, though. When I came back she’d got herself together a bit and lit another cigarette. “I hope nobody heard,” she said. “I shouldn’t think so. Everybody’s gone to bed by now.” “What about you? Shouldn’t you be in bed?” I didn’t know what to say to that. I’d forgotten about work till that point. “No I don’t think so. I’m packing my job in.” “Why?” “I’ve had enough for the time being.” She seemed surprised - sort of taken aback. With a faraway look in her eyes she said, “I’d like a job. It would give me something to do.” “You could always get one. They’re not hard to get, you know.” “He won’t let me. He says it’s d’meaning for him.” “Rubbish.” “He says we don’t need to because we’ve got the house an’ all. If I went out to work people would think we had money worries.” “I thought everyone had money worries.” She blew her nose on the tissue and smartened herself up. “He said we never need to worry about money again, now that we’ve got the house. But I never seem to have enough.” I did wonder how they got the house. It wasn’t every lorry driver and his wife who owned a house this size. It was none of my business, though. “Booze is expensive.” “Yes.” She looked as guilty as sin at that. Funnily enough, we both seemed to be talking now that we’d had a good cry. “I expect you’re wondering why I broke down like that,” she said. “I can guess.” “Can you?”

“Yes.” She looked away. “I get so lonely, I can’t tell you.” She almost started to cry again but held herself back. “I shouldn’t be telling you, you’re just a stranger.” I didn’t say anything. “No, I didn’t mean that. I’m sorry.” “S’alright.” She smiled at me, then looked down. “I’ve always liked you, it’s just that …” “I know.” Go on, say it: I’ve always liked you too. It was easy enough to say it, but I just couldn’t do it. In a way I didn’t feel I needed to. She knew. It was starting to get embarrassing because she wouldn’t stop looking at the edge of the table. I could see her lips were still red with lipstick, and she seemed to be biting her tongue as if a lot was happening inside her mind. I don’t think she felt she could look at me, but I just carried on looking at her. I was enjoying it. Then I felt that I shouldn’t. Or at least that I ought to do something. So I leant over and touched her shoulder. I could just about reach from where I was. She started up as if that was the last thing she’d been expecting. “Don’t,” she said, still not looking at me. “What am I doing? I’m not doing anything wrong.” “No, but …” “Have some more whisky.” “No.” “Oh, come on, love!” “No!” She pulled herself away and refused to look at me. This put me right off. It made me mad. So I got up and went round to her side of the table. She looked up scared.

“Look,” I said, “I just don’t see the point in hiding it. We both fancy each other, right? So let’s just get on with it!” She looked away and said in a funny voice, “Right, Mr Skinner. I think you’d better go now. It’s been very nice having you an’ all, but I must get some kip.” I grabbed her arm again. I shouldn’t have done it. She screeched in pain and this time she was looking round the room for something to get me off her with. “Look, love, let’s not fight it, eh?” “Let go of me!” She pulled herself away, got to her feet and backed away a bit. A chair fell over. She was panting with fright. I’ll admit it turned me on. “You must leave, Mr Skinner,” she was saying breathlessly. “You must leave. I’ll call the police if you don’t.” I went for her and quickly put a hand over her mouth before she could scream. I pushed her against the wall and put the other hand over one of her tits. Thank God! The feeling was so good. It was so hard and big. I gripped it as hard as I could. It was so big my hand wouldn’t go over it. I could feel the nipple tighten. I could feel myself tighten down below. She was trying to scream and struggling to get away. But I was too strong for her. Nevertheless, I didn’t particularly want it to be like this. ‘Look, love,” I whispered, “you’re going to have to be a good girl. If you promise not to scream I’ll let you go and I won’t hurt you.” Her eyes blinked quickly, scared. I knew I couldn’t trust her, but I wanted to say something just in case it might help. She did settle down a bit. I relaxed my grip. But then she started to struggle again, so I grabbed her round the throat with both hands. I knew I was taking a risk: she could either scream again or knee me in the balls.

I started to strangle her and then I whispered, “I don’t mind killing you, you know. I’ve got nothing to lose. So I wouldn’t if I were you.” That made her stop, so I let her go. Immediately her hands went up to her throat and she started to cough. I put both hands at the top of her nightgown and ripped the thing right down. Her tits fell out and I could see her belly right below them. “Thank God,” I whispered. I touched her up all right. I was all over her. I felt myself bursting inside. I just couldn’t let her go. She went very quiet. When I next looked at her face I could see that she was crying. “Where’s the bedroom?” She just blubbed all the more, but didn’t say anything or move. I slapped her across the face, hard. She saw it coming and tried to duck, but she wasn’t quick enough. I think one of my fingers caught her in the eye. “I’m not asking again.” “Please don’t,” she said. I’d had enough of this, so I just grabbed her by the hair and pulled her with me. I’d find the bedroom easily enough. We could do it on the kitchen table for all I cared. Then a funny thing happened: she just went slack all over, and practically swooned into my arms. I lifted her onto the bed and after a bit she started to touch me all over. Then she started to make funny moaning noises and push her hips at me. I could’ve sworn she hadn’t had it for a long time. She had a nice tight little body which she kept thrusting at me. I didn’t hardly have to move at all. Only when I wanted to, and that was to push myself further into her, my hands under her bum. Then she began to gasp quickly. Her mouth was open and her eyes were staring hard at something behind me, never looking at me. “Turn the light off if you’re going to do it,” she said.

“Whatsa matter? Don’t you like the look of me?” “Just turn it off.” “Alright then.” I had to lean across the bed to put it off. When I got back she’d turned over onto her stomach. I slid into her from behind. It seemed the most natural thing in the world. She kept on making a low soft moan as I pushed in and out. But I wasn’t hurting her and she couldn’t say that I was. Far from it. Then she came. I could feel her juices on my prick and her body went taut, then shuddered. She let out a long, deep sigh. I played around a bit then speeded up so as to come too. It was ruddy marvellous. She sort of crawled out from under me after that. We just lay there, panting. You could see quite a bit of the bedroom even though it was dark. A full moon was blazing through the window. There was a funny smell to the place which I’d noticed when we first came in. A man’s smell, I suppose. If I turned round I could see her taut tits in the moonlight. She had a lovely little body, really firm round the waist, the sort you’d expect on younger women. But she wasn’t that old. I wondered if she’d forgotten about how I got her into the bedroom. I wanted to say something to her, but she just lay there breathing deeply. I lit a cigarette.

Chapter 5

 

I must’ve fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew it was morning and she was looking straight into my face as if she were waiting for something. One of her eyes was bloodshot and there was a nasty weal across her throat. When she saw I was awake she tried to pull her hair over her bad eye, but it didn’t work because she had to be careful of the cigarette she was holding. We just looked at each other for a bit, then she got up and walked over to a table by the door. She took a sip of something from a glass then turned. She seemed unsteady on her feet. “Are you alright?” “Yes. Why shouldn’t I be?” She hiccuped. As I say, she seemed unsteady on her feet. I felt embarrassed and didn’t want to be there. I felt a stranger in the room. It took me a few minutes before I could remember how I came to be there. She walked out of the room, still unsteady. I could hear her moving about in the kitchen. I didn’t know what to do, whether to get up or what. I didn’t want to think I existed, if you know what I mean. I turned to curl up in bed again and go back to sleep, but it didn’t work. I felt too uncomfortable. So I got out of bed. I could still hear her moving about. I think she was humming to herself. And then I remembered - I was supposed to be at work, wasn’t I? The guv’nor would kill me. I didn’t know the time but had a feeling it was far later than it ought to be. “D’you mind if I make a phone call?” I called out to her. She didn’t answer. I picked up the phone anyway. I dialled and could hear the phone ringing. It made me feel funny to think it was ringing in the office all those miles away.

The phone was answered. It was the guv’nor’s voice, gruff as usual. “Yes?” “John? It’s me. John.” He didn’t say anything. “I’m not feeling too well. I’ve got to go to the doctor. I’ll be late.” He still didn’t say anything. I could hear other voices in the background. “I’m sorry, John. I’ll come in as soon as I can.” Now I was waiting for him to speak. I couldn’t just put the phone down, could I? “You’re trying my patience, John,” he finally said. And then he put the phone down. So that was it. I’d heard that tone of voice before, not to me but to another man on the site who’d lost his job soon after. But what the hell? I was beginning not to care. Except that if I’d been at work, I wouldn’t have this hassle with Mrs Fortune. What was I going to say to her? I still didn’t know her first name. I didn’t know what to say to her, but when she came in, sort of all curious to see what I was doing, I said, “What’s your name?” She looked at me as if I was a complete stranger. “What do you mean?” “I’ve never known your first name. What is it?” “Judy.” I grinned. “Sorry about last night, love. I hope you’re not too badly hurt.” She didn’t say anything. I was not doing too well this morning. “That was the guv’nor. He was a bit pissed off.” “Mr Skinner …” she said, as if she hadn’t been listening to a word I’d been saying. “Please call me John.” “John. I have to get up now. D’you mind?” “Oh, of course. Sorry, love.” She left the bedroom and I heard her running a bath.

I thought I might have a look around. It was none of my business, I know, but I felt curious somehow - about their flat, I mean. They didn’t seem to have many things, just a few old bits of furniture. I felt like going through their drawers. I didn’t want to look at the bed too closely. I felt a stranger in there. I didn’t know what to do at first. Then I opened a cupboard. It practically fell on top of me. There wasn’t much inside, just a few old clothes. It was one of those cupboards that had drawers all the way down, on the inside, so I looked in those. In one there were some sex things - a vibrator and other bits and pieces. At the bottom on the floor there were piles of old shoes. I tried some of his on. They fitted. They weren’t good shoes, just trainers and that, but I felt like pinching a pair. Then I thought, why? What good were they to me? So I didn’t. I looked again at the sex things. They needed cleaning mostly. At the back of the drawer was a knife; right at the back. I took it out. It was sharp and pointed. I wondered why they kept it in there. It was very sharp, too sharp. The blade on it was just about the only thing in the whole flat that was new. At least, it had been newly sharpened. I don’t know why, but I put it back quickly, and the sex things after that. Then I left the room and went into the kitchen. It was funny how old everything seemed when they must’ve got quite a lot of money. It didn’t add up somehow. But it was none of my business. I went back into the bedroom to get my clothes. She was in there, just staring at the door, as if waiting for me. I didn’t say anything. “Where are you going?” “To work.” “I thought you’d packed that in.” “I don’t know what else to do.” “You could stay here and keep me company.” I looked at her. I hadn’t wanted to see her eyes till then, in case there was hatred in them, but she couldn’t have hated me if she’d said that, could she? So I looked at her.

She smiled. I think she was smiling because I was smiling at her. I was smiling because she didn’t hate me when she might’ve done. She also looked tired and strung out, as if she hadn’t slept well. Come to think of it, the way she was smiling then, it reminded me of Linda. But I didn’t like to think of that. We didn’t say anything for a bit, just looked at each other. Then she looked away, sort of defeated and careworn. She looked as if she didn’t want to be awake. I could not think of anything else to say, so I said, “Shall I see you this evening?” It came out all wrong. She didn’t say anything; didn’t even look up. I left. I didn’t wash or nothing. I put on the same clothes. It wouldn’t make any difference.

Chapter 6

 

What with one thing and another it was getting on for half past eleven when I got to the site. For one thing, the train stopped for half an hour in the tunnel. I didn’t know why; nobody did. I could tell I wasn’t the only one who was scared, but nobody wanted to show it. As usual, I’d sat opposite a pretty girl so I could look at her. I thought of talking to her when we were stopped, but I couldn’t think of anything to say. So I just looked at her instead. She didn’t seem to mind. I think she was scared too, because she kept on looking up from her magazine towards the end of the carriage, as if the train had been stopped by a gang of muggers and any moment they were coming to take her purse. I thought of saying, “Don’t worry, love, you’ll be alright with me”, but I didn’t think it would sound right somehow. Anyhow, I had my own thoughts to deal with. Leastways I kept on pushing them to the back of my head because I didn’t really want to think about them, but that was an effort in itself, and I didn’t want to start talking to her with everybody looking, if I was going to blurt out anything about my own thoughts to her. In a way, I think she was listening to what I was thinking, because whenever our eyes met it seemed as if she knew what was going on in my mind. Also the fact that she was mainly reading the magazine made it all right, because it seemed that what I was thinking about was not so important that it should be worrying me. Anyway, I wasn’t that worried about the train stopping, what with her sitting opposite me. In fact I was half thinking of what I might do to her if there was an emergency like and the lights went out; and if there were a general panic so that I could do what I wanted with no one seeing, and her screaming being maybe just the sound of someone who doesn’t like it when the lights are turned out. And I was just about to think of Judy - because she had wanted the lights off hadn’t she? - when I felt afraid because I knew that I

would be so late for work that I couldn’t explain it for any reason. They would not believe me about the doctor’s. Anyway, I hadn’t been to a doctor for years, and had forgotten what they looked like, but thought maybe they looked like that man over there, all square and severe and impossible to get through to, so there was no point in going anyway. When the train did start to move, the square, severe man rattled and bashed his paper so much that it made the girl opposite me look up again, as if the muggers had finally arrived, and then she caught my eye and I smiled at her, and she smiled at me, as if to say we were so relieved that the train had started after all. I wondered if she would get off at the same stop as me, but she got lost in the crowd if she did, and when I got to the train station I discovered I had a lot of time to wait for the next train, so all I could do was go and have a drink. It was a pity that girl did get lost, because I could’ve asked her if she wanted to have a drink with me. As it was, I just stood there on my own with a can of lager, not minding too much. I did not usually drink that early, but the lager didn’t seem to do me any harm. In fact I had another can before I got on the train. By then I’d forgotten all about what I was supposed to be doing, and got off at the wrong stop. It was because of a woman on that train. She was a fair bit older than the other one and had a kid with her. I was looking at her so much I forgot my stop, which is something I’ve never done before. I was pretty gutted with myself and thought, that’s it, I’m not trying any more at all now, I’m going right back home, but then I thought, I’ve got to get there - what else is there to do? This one was dark - the woman, I mean - and she wasn’t that bad. She asked me for a light once, and from the way she was looking at me I thought she wanted to talk, but I didn’t know what to say, so she handed me the newspaper, and asked did I want to read it. I didn’t say anything but took it. As I pretended to have a look I could feel her looking at me. But the kid was getting in the way, and I didn’t see her getting off. I

would’ve handed the paper back if I had, but she didn’t seem to want it. This set me thinking, and that’s why I missed the stop. What I was thinking about I don’t know, except that somewhere at a great distance I kept on seeing this dark-haired woman with a smile on her face, as if she were ready to serve you in a bar or something, and it was that that kept me thinking, as if I could do nothing but look at her, or try to see her, because she was so far away. And then I had to wait for another train going back, and when I finally got to the site, they were all broke up for tea, and the guv’nor asked me if I’d been to the doctor’s, and when I said yes he just looked at me but didn’t say anything. Nobody else said anything either, except for Will, who said I looked as if I’d slept in me clothes, which the others laughed at a bit, but I must’ve looked a real sight, if you could say that on a building site. In the afternoon I mucked in with the others, mainly mixing cement, and got to drive the crane. Some lads were doing the concreting and I helped them with that. It was the way I liked it, with nobody giving any orders, because everyone knew what to do and helped each other like. Will asked me how I was feeling and I told him, “Alright”, without saying any more, and he seemed to leave it at that, though I wasn’t feeling all that good, and once or twice I just couldn’t keep my mind on the job. It kept on wandering back to Judy, and what it would be like that evening when I saw her again, because I was going to see her again whether she liked it or not, of that I was sure. Those girls on the train had given me a taste for her again, although I had not thought about her till then, and by the afternoon I was really wanting to do it to her again - and if she had allowed me once, why not a second time? - and again and again. Will kept on interfering. He kept on looking at me. I said “Pack it in, will you?” a couple of times, but it didn’t seem to make any difference. I think I realise now, from what my probation officer told me, that he was only trying to be friends, but I was too closed up like to notice, and I only thought he wanted something from me that I didn’t want to give.

He was a good lad though, helping me out with a load if it was too heavy, and once he made me a cup of tea. He was only young too. I wonder what’s happened to him now? - and to all of them for that matter? - although he’d already left before I was put away. The others will be still be there, I should think. In fact Will left the site because of something I’d done, but I won’t tell you about that now - that comes later. Then I got back all right after work was over, and went straight to my bedsitter, although what I thought I was going to do was go straight to see Judy. I didn’t know whether she would want to see me or not, and by that time of day that had come into my mind because it was a two-way thing, wasn’t it? I mean, I hadn’t raped her or anything, and she couldn’t say that I had. I was half hoping she might’ve come up to my room of her own free will, but she didn’t; and I didn’t go down to see her either. I just went to bed early without going out or anything. I’d felt tired all day and wasn’t really bothered. I didn’t sleep too bad either, sort of soundly like, but in the morning I had that erection that was there before, and it bothered me so much because it hadn’t happened to me like that since I was a child. And I’m talking about when I was six or seven, not sixteen or seventeen. To this day I don’t know whether it was a dream or not, but I could’ve sworn that when I was that age I had a massive great thing whose tip was all exposed and sore. Touching it felt like touching a naked torch battery with my tongue, something I used to do because it was so awful. Later I found out that other boys at school had had a little bit cut off them at birth, which meant that they didn’t get hurt so much, but to me the whole thing was painful, and now it was happening again, even though I thought that it was all over a long time ago, and that I wouldn’t have to worry any more. She should’ve done something about it, that mother of mine, whom I had not seen for so long, but I couldn’t tell her that, could I? Because you were not supposed to talk about things like that, and

when I did try to say something I got those same looks I told you about when I said what I said about Uncle Albert. But she should’ve known anyway; mothers are supposed to know that sort of thing. I didn’t get any help from her, and that’s why I hate her to this day, when I had not seen her for so long anyway. Things seemed to be dragging me back all the time these days. Yesterday it was Judy, today it was me mum, because she’d come into my mind and kept me rooted to the bed. Half an hour passed without my realising it. I was just sitting there, lost in thought, but what I was thinking about I don’t know. I think I was waiting till my erection went down. There was no time for a bath today, what with my mother keeping popping into my head, with that Brillo pad head of hers. I know she didn’t have no Brillo pad for a head really, it was just the way I saw her, the way I remember her like, because she was always in the kitchen with one of them things, and once me and the kids put it on her head for a joke and she didn’t even notice. She was always too busy keeping a fag hanging from her mouth to notice anything else. And she was half blind anyway. One of the things I always remember her saying is, “Wait till I get my glasses”, but she never did get them, because I think she once looked but couldn’t find them, and after that she gave up. Anyway, the way she went out of my life is a whole story in itself, I suppose. I like to think it’s no different from a lot of other kids. Who would’ve believed it, but there turned out to be another fella in her life apart from my dad - some gaffer she met down the pub. I see’d him once and he was horrible, but I suppose he wasn’t like my dad, who just used to lie on the couch all day, and she went off with him just like that, when I was just a nipper, and I’ve never seen him since. I can’t say what I feel about it really, because after that my dad clogged us up with all sorts of thoughts about her. He was really trying to get us to hate her, and it wasn’t too difficult because soon after she left he took us on holiday to Southsea, just to get some fresh air like, and when we came back the place was completely

denude of furniture. There wasn’t even a light bulb left. She and her fella had taken the lot, and we never knew where. We never saw her or her fella ever again. Dad started to swear that he would kill her, and he got us to solemnly promise him that we all wanted her dead too. He made all sorts of arrangements with some geezers down the pub, who said that they would find her for him and kill her, or at least break her legs, but nothing came of it, and after a while Dad sort of fell in with it, and bought hisself another couch from the Good As New shop down the road and lay on that. Looking back on it now, I think he was quite pleased by what’d happened, because it meant that he had another excuse for getting all worked up about nothing, and could sound off to us kids and that, even though none of us thought that he would actually do anything about it. In fact the only difference it made was that there was no one to do the cleaning any more, and for a long time the place was in a right mess, even before we got any more furniture for it, because Dad couldn’t afford to get anyone from outside, but then my eldest sister left school and she did it instead. Just then I heard that old bent-up man across the corridor close his door. It woke me up like, and I set to thinking about him. What it must be like to be him I don’t know. I was glad I was not him, but I could not say I was too happy being myself either. It sickened me to hear him move in his room, which is what I could do on account of the walls being so thin. What he must be doing now I don’t know, but it disgusted me whatever it was - to think of that bent-up old back of his without any clothes on, if he ever took them off, that is; maybe he didn’t. It wasn’t any business of mine, but you couldn’t help thinking. He always put this sad music on when he got back in the evening; always the same it was, sort of foreign like, like himself. No, wait a minute, I was confusing him with Doctor Jellinek. He wasn’t foreign so far as I knew. I had never spoken to him, never heard him speak, just thought he was foreign because of the music. It was weird, with cymbals and that, and sometimes it annoyed me.

In the early days I felt like knocking on the wall, but I never did because something about him frightened me, even though he was an old man half my size. I was truly spooked by him, and it had all happened at the very beginning. That was when I first moved in, and we never spoke till he introduced me to Gary. That was Judy Fortune’s husband, and they were talking to one another on the stairs as I came in one day. What they were saying I don’t know, because they shut up when they saw me and just sort of looked in my direction when I came along. I did not know what to say or do - why should I say or do anything? -but I knew it was him before anybody told me. He was mean-looking I thought, and I couldn’t really bear to look at him because of his eyes, which were large and round like a bird’s. They didn’t blink once when I saw him, just watched me like a vulture or something, and I felt dead in his arms as I walked past. He was leaning on the banister and chappie was bent over the first stair as if he were looking for something as usual. Chappie looked up and said, “John, this is Gary”, as if he knew me or something. He did not say anything to me. It was obvious that they were just waiting for me to go away, but I said “Hello, mate!” or something like that. Nothing. He did not say anything by way of a reply at all. His eyes, that was it. How they glinted at the bottom of the stairs! He was just looking at me, but I didn’t notice as I came down. He knew I hadn’t noticed, that’s why he was looking like that at all - sort of sizing me up, hostile, because I knew from Mrs Fortune he hadn’t wanted me in. They had a blazing row about that after I moved in. They were still living on the ground floor then and I was one above, so I could hear it. I knew he beat her even then. He was pushing her about the place. You could hear her screaming. And furniture breaking. A glass breaking. Then nothing. He hadn’t liked her letting me in because I was young, see, and all the other lodgers were old, like that chap across the way. That way they could keep tabs on them, but he must’ve thought she fancied me, because there didn’t seem any other reason why she

should let me in. Or perhaps she fancied me even then. Of course he was the jealous type; you could see that straight away. She was just screaming and I was listening. That was the first night I moved in. And the next day, in the morning, I saw him. I think he might’ve been just waiting for me when I came down, but he didn’t say anything when I passed, nor me neither. Why should I? I just carried on walking. It would not be true to say that I was not waiting for something. Once on the tube I knew I was going to get trouble from a bloke just because of the way he was looking at me. You can tell that sort of thing, although my probation officer denies it. Anyway, it was a shock to see those pale great eyes of his and that frizzy hair; and his just waiting like, leaning on the banister, although there was no getting away from his height. The thing was, he was so skinny with it and that made it worse somehow. I think he was trying to teach me a lesson just by looking at me. Also I did not know it then but he was gone by the time I got back, and I think he wanted me to have something to remember him by: “Look, sonny, don’t mess around with her, alright?” - or something like that. I never saw him again. Nor Judy neither since the time I have told you about. Maybe what he did worked, at least for a while. But like she told me, he was away for very long stretches. Now I had to decide whether to get on with it. A part of me wanted to leave just like that, get out of the situation before it blew up in my face, because it surely would; they always did. It wasn’t that I was scared, it was just that I didn’t want any more trouble. Another part said, stay, so what’s happened? You’ve screwed someone’s wife, so what? You’ve screwed a hard man’s wife; even then, so what? I could take care of myself even when it came to someone like that. What did it all matter anyway? He probably wouldn’t even find out. But a man like that, he doesn’t need to find out anything before he causes trouble. He just steams right in without waiting to find out what’s going on. I’ve come across the type before. That’s why he did that to his wife the first night I was here.

Even so, a part of me thought, so what? Why shouldn’t I take what I wanted if it was there for the taking, and take the consequences if they were there to be taken too? I wasn’t scared. But I was scared, not of him exactly but of something else, something being let loose. I felt I needed to protect myself and so if I did not want to move out altogether, why not just lay off her? Already she was interfering with my job. I would be late again today - I didn’t feel like going, and that was death that was, because many’s the time before that I would just walk out of a job if I didn’t feel like it. But I couldn’t just lay off her could I, the thing had already started. And the moment I thought, well, I will lay off her, then I thought, why should I? Why the fuck should I? I didn’t know what to do. My life didn’t seem worth keeping on an even keel anyway; it wasn’t that great. I think that was the trouble somehow, that there was nothing to keep me going. But I had to do my job; I had to work. That I was sure of: it was the only thing that had kept me going since the divorce - that and the booze. That was what made me scared of carrying on with Judy: the thought of Linda. I could not bear to go through that again. It would drive me mental. The whole thing had unhinged me. It would’ve been better never to have met the girl at all in that swimming pool - the thought of going through with it all again. This time I did start to get up. In fact I pulled my clothes and boots on like there was no tomorrow. I wanted to be a hard man. I thought that was the only way I could protect myself. At work I did not speak to anybody, not even to the guv’nor who knew I was late again but did not say anything. He just sort of looked malevolently. I went about my tasks as hard as I could. At lunch I went on my own to the pub and had four pints of lager. In the evening I went into the pub again before coming home. I had another four pints. It was all right; I’d worked hard all day and felt I deserved it. In the pub I thought about Judy and wondered whether I should go and see her after all. It would only cause more trouble, of that I

was sure. But it was Fate wasn’t it? Whatever had to be had to be. All day I’d been thinking of her and had made up my mind to go. I drank up and left. On the way out I saw Will standing with some other young guys I didn’t know. He looked up and saw me and said, “Oh there you are! How’ve you bin?” I stopped and looked at him. I didn’t know what he was on about. Sometimes when I don’t want to know I give off this expression by which I mean, “Leave me alone.” But Will didn’t get it. His mates were just looking at me. “You were at the doctor’s the other day, weren’t you? Hope you’re alright now.” I still did not say anything. I should not have stopped. “You’re not going already, are you?” he goes. “What you drinking?” I smiled but said I had to be going. “No, come on John,” he goes, “you never have a drink with anybody.” “Some other time, lad,” I said. “I’ve got to go.” “Ready and waiting, is she?” one of the others said, and they all laughed. I looked at him but even I wasn’t that chagrined. “You could say that,” I said. “Give her one for me, then,” the same bloke said. “I will ’n all.” But Will was just looking at me. Then he goes, “Come on, John, what you drinking?” “‘No, honest, Will, I can’t.” “I thought you got divorced anyway.” “I did.” He looked well puzzled, as if he couldn’t understand that a man could’ve moved on since his divorce. He was only a kid. Then I noticed all of his mates were only kids as well. Good looking lads too. It made me think of something, but I don’t know what it was I thought. Will just kept on looking at me.

I didn’t know whether to stay or leave. Certainly I didn’t know what to say. Will suddenly started to grin. I didn’t know what he was on about. “Who is she?” he said. The others were looking at me too, sort of all grinning the same way as him. “Who’re you lot anyway?” I said to them. “We’re mates, that’s all. We all live round here.” “Do you? Sounds handy to me.” They stopped grinning a bit now. “No offence meant,” said Will. “None taken, friend,” I said. And then I did walk out. I knew they were looking at me as I went, and not saying anything. I felt all hot underneath the ears. What the fuck is it to them anyway? I don’t know, I felt dizzy all of a sudden. But I went on my way back home. It took a long time and I think I was a bit pissed because I don’t remember much of it, except that I talked to a girl on the way. Who she was I don’t know. I can’t even remember what she looked like or what happened, except she had dark hair and would’ve looked like Judy otherwise. When I got home I went straight to Judy’s door and banged on it. It must’ve shown that I’d been drinking because she didn’t look too happy to see me. That didn’t stop her letting me in though. I followed her into the kitchen, watching her wiggle, wondering what it was going to be like later. I suppose she would’ve known what I was doing. Most probably she was well used to it, seeing as she was an attractive woman. It was something they had to put up with in life, just like men have to put up with other things. I think some of them enjoy it, but not Judy somehow. Not that I was thinking that straight. When we sat down at the table she asked me, “‘How much have you had?” “A few.” “You could’ve saved it for me.” “What do you mean?”

“You know what I mean.” I saw her with that same look on her face. I looked away. She’d touched me as I sat down. It wasn’t right somehow, the way we were seated. We were too far apart, but I did not feel as if I could do anything about it, I don’t know why. She wasn’t helping either, and I thought it was going to be a repeat of what happened the first time. I didn’t know what to do. We weren’t saying anything. I thought of all those girls on the tube and thought maybe it was just as well we’d never spoken because maybe there was nothing to say. “Aren’t you going to get me something?” She smiled at that and got to her feet. “More booze?” “No.” That came out of me something strange, that did. It was as if it wasn’t me speaking and there was a sort of question mark in her face as she went to the fridge. “What then?” “Whatever you’re having.” “I’ll make us a cup of tea then.” “I’m hungry.” “I’ve got some baked beans.” “I don’t want any baked beans. I don’t want to eat.” She was in the middle of getting the milk from the tray, but she stopped. The question mark grew bigger, I thought. “What do you want to do then?” “Come here.” She looked frightened. “I’m not going to hurt you.” “You’re pissed.” “No I’m not.” I stood up but had to steady myself on the table. A dish fell off. “See?” “Oh, pack it in. I’m alright.” “No you’re not.”

“Look, I don’t have to come see you, you know.” “I know you don’t. I’m not asking for any favours.” “I’m not giving any either.” “I know you’re not.” “Are you going to come here or what?” “I don’t know.” “I’m going then. I can do without this. I’ve had a hard day.” She didn’t want me to go. I knew she didn’t want me to go. But I would have to if she didn’t do something fast. Oh Christ! What was all this about? I didn’t need it anyway. “I haven’t told you about Gary yet.” “Who wants to know about Gary?” I’d sat down again. It was difficult to keep standing up anyway, as I kept on swaying about the place. “You make him sound important. I don’t give a fuck about Gary.” “He didn’t want you to move in.” “I know that.” She looked surprised. She hadn’t seen him when I had on the stairs. “I didn’t see why you couldn’t move in. After all, we were a fella short.” “Is that what you wanted to tell me?” “No.” “What then? Because I don’t give a fuck.” “I haven’t seen Gary in a long while.” “I know that too. Ever since I moved in.” “Does it surprise you?” “No, why should it?” She’d sat down again, too. “Gary’s inside, John.” “What for?” “Robbery.” “So that’s how he makes his money. I was wondering.” “He won’t be out for a long time.”

“So what?” “D’you think you could be a bit more polite or what?” She’d raised her voice. “I’m not being rude, I just don’t see what it’s got to do with me, that’s all.” “I lied to you. I told you he was a lorry driver.” ‘Lorry driver, prisoner, so what?” ‘Well, he won’t be back for a lot longer than you might’ve thought.” “So?” “Look, I told you I wasn’t asking for any favours and that’s the truth. But I’ve got to protect myself. Either you leave here now or you move in altogether.” I knew there was something about this woman. That was why I’d been scared to come and see her again. I couldn’t say anything for a bit, but she was just waiting. “You don’t want me, Judy.” “I need a man.” I got to my feet and started to sway again. “Try some of the other gaffers in the place. That bent-up old geezer for a start. I’m sure he’ll keep you warm till your old man gets back.” She burst into tears. She’d done it, hadn’t she? She’d pushed herself right to the limit and been kicked back. She carried on crying. She’d sunk her head in her hands and the lot sank to the table. There was nothing for it but to go and leave her there crying her eyes out. But I didn’t do that. I didn’t know what to do. Then I said, “What do you want me to do?” She was still crying. I waited. “Move in, John. Move in.” “What?” “Move in with me.” She was screaming now.

“I can’t just move in.” “Why not?” “Because I can’t, that’s why. What happens when he gets back?” “He’s inside for ten years.” “Oh. Don’t you ever go and see him?” “No. It’s over so far as I’m concerned.” “But it’s his house, isn’t it?” “Yes.” “You shouldn’t be here then.” “Where am I supposed to go?” “I dunno.”

Chapter 7

 

That was it. I never did move in, not prop’ly anyway, but I spent all my time down there. I kept the bedsitter on, and paid her the rent, and this came between us after a while. She said she didn’t want to accept the rent from me. She wanted to move someone else in there, but I wouldn’t have it. I won’t say it was a wonderful romance or anything; we just needed each other, that’s all. I made the mistake of thinking she needed me more than I needed her. At least I kept my job down. She saw to that. And she started talking about us settling down together somewhere else. That was after she’d laid off the booze a bit. We both did. Well, her more than me. I didn’t answer her when she raised it. I think she was thinking she would bide her time like, and sooner or later I would’ve come round to her way of thinking. I might’ve done too if it hadn’t been for the voices. I can’t remember when it was I first started hearing them. It was all to do with that man upstairs; he had got inside my head. That was why at times I almost went along with what Judy was saying. To get far away from this place, that was the idea. We both wanted to, but I knew I couldn’t. I had a score to settle with that man and I could not leave before I had done that. Yet I couldn’t bring myself to go and see him. I was in a quandary. I used to wonder how much of this showed to Judy, because I never told her anything about it. I don’t think she wanted to see the problem, you see, because she’d made up her mind to be happy with me like. I was not happy; I was still my old self. Also I knew that it would come to an end anyway because he had to come out sometime. It was these voices that were getting me down now. Or rather his voice, that piping, high-pitched voice that I kept on hearing end to end. It wouldn’t leave me alone. It would be there when I woke up, and there when I went to bed. Once I asked her if she could hear it and it was obvious that she did not

know what I was on about. So I shut up about it. I thought it best to keep it to myself after that. The trouble was, after a while it kept on telling me to kill her, that she was no good for me, she was evil. If it weren’t for the fact that it was a voice I hated, I think I would’ve done so an’ all. Because what was she to me? Just a girl. I didn’t need her, so I thought. She was bringing me down all the time. It was no bottle on my part that I’d had anything to do with her in the first place. We just fell into it. We hardly ever spoke after a time. We were just there together like, at the table, watching the telly, in bed. God knows what she got up to when I was at work. Nothing probably. I never asked her. Then she said I ought to go and see a doctor. I said why and she said because I was acting funny. I lost my temper. It was in the kitchen; it was always in the kitchen. She looked at me really wide-eyed and scared, and sure enough she started to cry, which got my goat even more. I knew she was trapped, knew I could do what I liked with her. So I slapped her. “Don’t, please don’t,” she said. “You think I’m mad, don’t you? Well, I ain’t mad.” “I never said you was mad.” “That’s what you meant, though. I ain’t mad.” She went off to the bedroom. I could hear her in there crying, so I turned the telly up. But it was no good. I could still hear his voice telling me to kill her. And I remembered the knife what I had forgotten about, stuck in the closet, there, in the bedroom. But also there was just this man, this little bent-up old man, with his piping, high-pitched voice, saying he would call the police. That’s all, nothing more than that. Just an old man up there. I would go and have it out with him. He would be in. I’ll do it now. With a big effort, I pulled myself to my feet and left the flat. I walked up the stairs, my legs feeling so heavy I thought they would drag me back down again. Everything was so dark here it was unbelievable. I kidded myself I was going up to my bedsitter nothing more than that - just to get myself up the stairs like.

When I got there I looked at his door. It was closed. I did not want to go any further. I really did not want to go any further. I wondered how I could do it and then I realised I was not hearing the voices any more. I could hear nothing ’cept maybe him breathing beyond the door. I backed away a bit. No, I wouldn’t have to do it now, not while he had stopped talking to me. That was my doing, wasn’t it, the fact that he had stopped talking. He could see I meant business. Well, I did, didn’t I? So I went downstairs again. Judy said, “Where’ve you been?” Now why did she want to know that? You could tell her tears meant nothing, because she’d stopped the moment I left. “‘Upstairs.” “Why?” she wanted to know. She was following me about the place. She wouldn’t leave me alone. “I just went upstairs, that’s all.” “Why? You’re not leaving, are you?” “No.” She didn’t say anything after that. Nor did I. We just watched the telly and went to bed. I never touched her any more, I don’t know why. It was nothing, that was it. We were just nothing together now. It all happened quickly too. I don’t know what she thought about it, but there was a time when she would try to make a move in bed. I was just not interested and she must’ve got the message because she stopped, just as we’d stopped talking. The thing had gone downhill from the moment we first sat down and talked, when I came down to see her. But something held us together - there must’ve been - but what it was I don’t know. I didn’t like her any more. What was I to do? I just didn’t see why I should do anything. Yet if I thought about the future, that frightened me. What was I going to do? She moved in bed a little and brought me back to the land of the living. Obviously she wanted some good loving. You could tell that by the way she moved in hope, even in her sleep. I wasn’t a bad bloke, when all’s said and done. Why not give her what she wants?

It wouldn’t be too late. There, you see, she put her head next to my chest. Now I’m to stroke her hair. Why not? I won’t get the plague or anything. Maybe the voices were false - why should I want to kill her? I have never harmed anyone in my life, not just like that anyway, for no reason. Why should I do that to her? What had she done to me? I touched her hair. I think she felt it in her sleep, because she groaned a little. It wasn’t bad hair. She was a looker. You could tell that even in the darkness somehow - from the shape of her tits, which I touched now. She woke just like that, but did not make any sound. I could hear her thinking. It seemed she were thinking quickly about what to do. She didn’t do anything, just waited. I touched her some more, then stopped. I must’ve gone to sleep, because the next thing I knew I’d woken up and those voices were back again. I could not hear what they were saying this time, only that there were a lot of them at the back of my right ear. It was morning. I didn’t feel that I’d slept at all though. Judy was still in the same position she’d been in when I’d touched her last night, her hair all over the place where it had been touched. I looked at her. She did not seem like a person at all to me. I could not make out what she was. I shook her like a dog. She woke, gave a little cry, and got out of bed. It must’ve been her then, since she got out of bed. I just looked at her and she looked back. She put something on and went out. ‘This can’t go on’, I could hear her thinking, but what was I thinking? Only that I must do something. I could see I was in a bad way, but what to do? It was work now. She didn’t look at me when I went into the kitchen. She was just looking at the table as if she were thinking. We didn’t say nothing. I had a cup of tea and left. I was looking forward to who I might see on the tube. But there was no one; it was empty, except for the sound of the train guard talking to me. He was telling me how he could read my thoughts. Let him; what good are my thoughts to anyone? He then said that he could control them for me if I liked. I did not know what to

think. There was no one sitting next to me, no one at all. Then I did notice some other passengers, but they were all down the other end. This guard, I couldn’t see him, but I knew he was there. We had a chat on the platform before the trains came in like. Oh, they’re clever, these people. Much cleverer than me. Well, I told you I wasn’t clever, didn’t I? That was drummed into me at school. I dare say all the train guards feel they have a right to take over stupid people’s thoughts. Anyway, this train guard, he said to me, “Go and kill someone.” I thought that was funny, because there was no one specific he had in mind, and up till then I had not thought they wanted me to kill just anyone. I took this as being a sign of great wisdom on the train guard’s part. And I was proved right when he said he could introduce me to God, who would really be the one to control my thoughts. But then something snapped. I was thinking of my mother again. I don’t know why. I got very worried and wondered where the train guard had gone. He was not talking to me any more. My mother had got in the way. Old Brillo pad was right up there in the mind’s eye. I think I coughed and looked about me. It was Victoria. I had to get off, didn’t I? No trouble in that. He would follow me and have another chat on the train. I felt happy because I knew he was just there, right behind, walking along. When I got on the train, she was there again, sitting on her own at the end. It was a surprise, but I went and joined her all the same. I talked to her. She told me what she’d been doing with her life. It was difficult to hear what she was saying, but she looked happy enough. Indeed I thought she was behaving like a chattering monkey, and it was difficult to get a word in at all. After a while I felt like smashing her face in because she would not stop. The train was moving now and that added to it. So I told her to shut up and that worked for a while. She looked very pleased to be told to shut up - and said to me what a nice life I’d been having with Linda, and I asked why didn’t she come and see us every now and then. She said she was too busy with her husband, but she would try and write when she got her glasses back. Anyway, Linda wasn’t worth writing to, was

she? Because she’d taken her son away, not forgetting the warning she’d given about women of her kind. I couldn’t believe my ears. It was she who’d gone off with another man when I were nothing but a nipper! “How’s yer dad then?” she asked, and it looked as if she was chewing a large piece of gum with this batty grin on her face. “How the hell should I know? I haven’t seen him in twenty years.” Her mouth dropped open. “No? That’s a shame, dear. You could kip at our place, you know, but we just haven’t the room. And we’re all of us so busy. Still, it’s been good bumping into you like this. Got far to go? Croydon? That’s a nice place. D’you remember your Uncle Albert, the one who was soft in the head? He used to live in Croydon. Like a piece of gum? No? I get it by the sackful. No, go on, have some.” I could see her sitting back with her legs apart. Those skinny things she always had, which even for a mother’s legs looked just about as inviting as a cow’s backside. She never knew how to wear her knickers, because you could always see them when she sat down, unlike other women when you could see nothing. This time they were white-grey and, further down, her daft, skinny legs were covered in brown stockings you only ever saw on older women. God, how I hated the sight of her. If I’d had a fag lit I would’ve stubbed it out in her face. Why didn’t the train guard come and stop her? He had the power. In fact I think I’d forgotten about the train guard altogether. I think I was mesmerised by me mum, who would not stop chattering and chewing gum as if she were pleased to see me like. It was as if she’d come over for Christmas and had not seen her son in a long while, and someone had given her too much sherry to drink. All I could think of was how much I hated her, yet I could not do anything about it. I knew I would never smash her in the face, never in a million years - because I just would not dare. She was me mum, after all, and had power over me even though she was just an old woman who didn’t mean nothing.

What got me was the way she had got into my thoughts like, as if she had a right to be there when she didn’t, of that I was sure. And why should she feel so comfortable just sitting there like that, chatting on, as if anyone were bloody interested? I got up suddenly and said I had to go. Well, it was my stop, wasn’t it? I had to get off. I had to get to work. I don’t remember if I got to work or not that day. Looking back on it now, that was the time I think I could’ve stepped back from the brink, even then, but I didn’t because I did not want to step back from the brink. I had nothing to step back to, and wanted release from my mind. As I say, I cannot remember whether or not I went to work that day, but at about this time the thing with Will happened. I will tell you about it now, because I think it belongs here, although maybe not, because by then I’d become convinced some people were out to get me and the reason why I went for him was because I thought he was one of them, even though he was not. At about this time, everybody began to seem very different to what they did before. I could not believe that everyone was human in the way that was meant. They seemed as if they had come from outer space or something, and all of them were either for me or against me, the ones who were against me being sent by that man who lived upstairs. He came from outer space of course, although nobody else knew it except me. Maybe he didn’t either. He was so cunning that not even Judy knew it, although she had been living in the same house as him ever since he moved in - but what did Judy know? Judy knew fuck all and that maddened me. I’d made up my mind she had to go, and that was when Will came into it ’cos he said something about her once - that day or another day after, I don’t remember - and I said how did he know about Judy, and he looked at me as if I were mad or something, as if I were a fool, and wound me up just the way Linda’s fancy man had done. And I thought, what does he take me for, a fool? And anyway he’d been sent by that man; he wasn’t human, he was just a nothing, with those big, deceiving eyes of his just looking, and so I hit him,

just like that, to protect myself, and to show him he couldn’t mess around with me, and everything went quiet on the building site for once, after a while. I was looking at him just lying there. He did not seem as if he knew what was going on and kept on just looking up at me with this surprised look on his face. He was holding his jaw. “You think I’m a fool, do you?”, I was saying to him, but when the guv’nor came up as he surely was bound to do after a while, with all the others behind him, I said Will had got the hump with me for no reason and that I’d had to defend myself. The guv’nor looked at Will and asked him if it was true, but Will was not really in a position to answer for hisself. So I said, “Look, John,” - that was the guv’nor’s name, same as me - “are you going to believe him or me? Who’s bin on this site almost as long as you ’ave?” And John looked at me and did not know what to do until Will got to his feet and said, “He just went for me. I swear it.” And it was obvious that John just did not believe him and so he said,: “Right, get your cards from the office and clear off.” Will went on a bit, but the guv’nor didn’t want to hear any more. He’d made his mind up in the way you have to on a building site, and so he just pushed him on his way with all the others looking, and some of them looking at me, and I could see they had not believed me, but what did I care? I had to keep my job and it might just as well have been Will as me. Also, for all I knew they were all in it with Will anyway, and that was why they were looking at me in the way they were. “What the fuck are you looking at?” I asked one of them, and he went away with the others, still staring at me. Well, what did I care? I didn’t talk to them anyway, I didn’t want to know them, and when Will had cleared off I felt happier than I had done in a long time because he had been the only one who had tried to talk to me and I did not like that. I just wanted to be left alone.

When I go back that evening, or another evening at this time, I looked for the knife and it was still in its old place, and I took a good look at it, and wondered how it had got there at all. That husband of hers had most prob’ly put it there, although he had not seemed like a knifeman to me. But now that I had it, it was mine, wasn’t it? And I knew exactly what I was going to do with it. I would kill her, wouldn’t I? - when the time was right, when he told me to do it. Because he was in command, wasn’t he? And I was just nothing. Judy was not yet back because she had started to work too - I will tell you about that in a minute - and I got back earlier than she did because she worked late, and so I could move around the flat as much as I liked. It was weird how much junk there was in there. It was as if she and her husband must’ve been a couple of magpies or something, specially in regard to ornaments and things that I had no use for. But this knife - it was odd that it was there in the first place. I wondered if they weren’t a little bit kinky or something, what with the rope in there an’ all. There had been nothing like that between me and Linda. I just wasn’t interested in that sort of thing. Me and Linda had been perfectly straight in that way, and I wanted to keep it like that because, I don’t know, once you start messing with those things, I reckon there might not be a way out. Anyway, I took the knife and put it in a drawer of my own, one in the kitchen that she never used. I put it at the back with some things in the front, to hide it like, and then I wondered if she might notice it had gone missing and ask about it. I had never seen her touch it and didn’t think she would have a use for it, because it was such a large kitchen knife, but if she did ask about it I could say that I thought it belonged in the kitchen and I put it there. I thought of taking it up to my bedsitter, but then I thought I might not be able to get to it in a hurry and I wanted to be able to do that because you never knew when he might send for me. Besides, the devil was up there, wasn’t he? And I didn’t want him knowing my plans. Then the door banged and it was Judy. I quickly shut the drawer and started to whistle.

“Hello,” she said. She was in a good mood. I did not answer her at first. “How’d you get on today?” “Fine.” I didn’t think there was much of a tone in my voice. She sat down at the table and started to smoke a cigarette. These days she never offered me one. “I had such a funny man come in before closing,” she said. “He had a little dog with him and said he wanted a quart of gin for the dog’s bath. Said he always washed his dog in gin. Chihuahua it was.” She pulled on her cigarette. “Making some tea, love?” “I could do.” “I think we oughta get a dog, John. You could take it out for walks. I could too. I’d like one of them big things, a Dobermann or summat. What d’you think? Oh come on, lover boy, say something!” “I was just thinking.” “What about?” “What you said. A dog.” “Well?” “I’d like a dog ’n’ all. I was thinking about getting one too. But who’d look after it in the daytime?” “Oh, it would be alright in here. Friend of mine’s got an Alsatian which she leaves in all day. It’s a bitch, an’ she don’t seem to mind. She doesn’t always take it out in the evening either. Mind you, she is a bit old, she says.” I made the tea and gave her some. We always had a drink straight after the tea. “You’re in a good mood,” I said. “This job’s doing wonders for me. I wish I’d done it before. I’m really glad Gary’s out the way. I can do what I like now.” She lit another cigarette. I looked at her. I was thinking of the knife. “I just wish you’d buck up, that’s all.”

“What d’you mean?” I said. “Sometimes you act so strange you frighten me.” I did not say anything. “You know what I mean.” I was trying to control myself. She must not catch on to what I was thinking. She stubbed the cigarette out and got to her feet. “I’m going to have a bath. That shop makes me feel dirty. Pour me a drink for when I get back.” “Don’t you want your tea?” “Nah.” She went. I drank the tea myself. That was unusual. Then I fell to thinking, it’s funny how normal things can seem to be when they’re not. Judy was right when she said how much better things were since she got a job. Oh, I forgot, I was going to tell you about that, wasn’t I? Actually, there’s not all that much to tell. She just went out and got it, in an off-licence. It was after she spoke to me about Gary for the last time. She never mentioned him after that and I did not raise the subject either. Well, one day she got up the same time as me and I asked her why, and she said she was going for an interview. “Where?” “Up the road.” “What for?” “A job.” “What do you want a job for? You’ve got all the rent.” “It’s not enough, not with no money coming in from you-knowwho, and anyway I want a job, I told you.” It was all the same to me. “Good luck then,” I said. “Thanks, Johnny.” “Don’t call me that.” “Why not?” “It’s sissy.” She laughed.

Looking back on it, that was the first time I’d seen her laugh properly, I think. Anyway, off she went, and the next thing I knew she was getting up every day the same time as me. We never shared our money. I never gave her any and she never showed me any from the job. I never thought of giving her any money before she got the job. She never asked and that’s the truth - even for the rent, which I gave her anyway. Once I asked what she was doing with the money from the shop and she laughed again and said to mind my own business. Fair enough. She was right when she said that it was none of my business. ’Cept I couldn’t help wondering how a dope like that managed to get a job at all. The manager must’ve fancied her or something. That worried me, that did. But what did I care? It wasn’t like me and Linda. I wasn’t possessive of her; she wasn’t worth it. I worked that one out for myself, although I swear once or twice she was trying to make me jealous. Once she talked about a fella who came into the shop and asked her out. She was hoping to get a rise out of me. But I kept quiet. No, I suppose it was good, her doing that job. And we did get a dog too, a Rottweiler what I took for walks along the streets in the evenings. That kept me out of the pubs a bit, ’cept I took her in with me. She was ever so quiet, not like what they say in the papers. I bumped into Sheilagh a few times. We talked, but no more than that. I think she heard I was living with a woman. I never told her. She was the same as ever, always with a different man, if you could call them that. They made me feel so ashamed to think I’d been with her. Come to think of it, I heard her talking about me once. I was in the pub with Lager - that was the bitch’s name - when I saw her with that skinny fella, the same one, standing by the bar. She was making a loud noise, but she had her back to me like and I just listened. It wasn’t very interesting. It was boasting more than anything else, about how she had this fella once who was really weird, who

started a fight in here one night. The others were listening, but all she was doing really was slagging me off behind my back and it was obvious that they did not know who she was on about. She kept on saying, “He was so strange, you should’ve seen him. The eyes he had, you should of seen them!” But I don’t think there’s anything strange about my eyes. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black. Anyway, it did not get me in a temper or anything, and when I saw her later I did not even mention it. I think she was embarrassed to see me. It wouldn’t’ve happened ’cept she was facing the door when I come in that time, because normally it was the sort of pub where you could hide away like. I always did that, because I wanted to be on my own. She was leaning against the bar as usual and it looked as if she was waiting for someone and thought it might be me ’cos you could tell she was gutted a bit to see it wasn’t, and you could tell she hadn’t really wanted to smile and say hello but she didn’t have any choice. I didn’t give a fuck. All I minded was the fact that I’d been with her in the first place, because she wasn’t up to my usual, if you know what I mean. But now it was all over, I didn’t mind talking to the woman - at least I didn’t mind that particular night. I think it was the dog that made me feel more sociable. “How’re things then?” I asked. “Fine thanks.” She looked away the moment she said that. Something seemed to be on her mind. “I heard you talking about me the other night.” “Did you?” I grinned. “It really doesn’t matter. I hope you’re keeping well.” I was trying to say that as if, well, you never know, there might be a reason why she was not keeping well. “I’m fine, thank you. I’m waiting for a friend.” “Skinny fella, is he?” “You could say that.”

Now she definitely didn’t want to know. “I suppose opposites attract,” I went on. “Look, if you don’t mind, I’d rather be on me own.” “No, hold up. We’re just talking, that’s all. I didn’t mean no harm.” She was really put out and trying to look the other way. “Here, Sheilagh, let me buy you a drink for old time’s sake. No, go on. What’ll you have?” “A gin and tonic, please,” she said, not looking at me. “I ispect you’ll want the slimline.” She didn’t have an answer to that one. “Here.” The barman gave her the drink and I just stood there. “That’s a nice dog.” “D’you like her? It was me girlfriend’s idea.” That caught her attention, that did. “Got a girlfriend, have you?” “You should know.” “Why?” “I thought you knew everything round here.” “No I don’t.” “Well, I have.” “You oughta bring ’er in ’ere sometime.” “I might do that.” “Is she married?” “Uh, yes.” “Better be careful then.” “I don’t think so.” “Why’s that?” “I can look after meself.” “Can’t we all.” She’d already finished the gin. I bought her another one. “Look, you don’t have to do this, you know.” “I know that, Sheilagh. I’m just looking after you while your man comes.”

“That’s nice of you.” “You were nice to me once.” “Thanks, John. You were nice to me too.” “I hope he’s treating you alright.” “Yes, he’s treating me alright.” But she didn’t look too happy. Maybe they just weren’t ’patible. “D’you go out much?” “Every night. Well, in here.” “It’s a nice place.” “Yes. What about you?” “Not really. I take the dog for a walk.” “I thought you liked your booze.” “I do. Yeh, you’re right. I go to pubs a lot. Not to this one though.” “Why not?” “You’re always in ’ere!” She didn’t know what I was on about and just swigged some more gin. When she’d finished we still didn’t say anything for a bit and then it looked as if she were making a big effort and she said, “‘You can have me back if you want. Any time, John.” That’s why I hadn’t wanted to talk to her. I knew she’d say that or something like it sooner or later. It wasn’t that I meant the girl any harm, it was just that I wasn’t interested - should never have done it with her. “You don’t want me, Sheilagh. Think of that little room of mine.” “It was alright. I bet you say ‘you don’t want me’ to all the girls. It gets them going.” “Does it?” “D’you think it’ll last?” “What?” “You. You and your girl.” “It might do. I’m not bothered.” She gave another look now, the sort of look women often give men when they don’t believe what they’re saying.

I admit it was an act, I would never’ve said anything different, no matter who it was, not even Linda. “Anyway, I’ve got to go. I’m supposed to be taking her for a walk.” “Nice to see you, John. Come back anytime.” “You make it sound like it’s your place!” I was trying to catch the landlord’s eye to make him laugh and I nearly did an’ all. Sheilagh joined in, then I was gone.

Chapter 8

 

I’m trying to say this because, looking back on it, I want to know what I looked like, because at that time me and Judy were a couple and I would take the dog for a walk before coming home to dinner. It was all very normal, like the sort of life I’d had with Linda, the only difference being that I wasn’t bothered about Judy and thought, you’ve got to have somebody, haven’t you? Another half of me was asking how I was going to kill her, though it wasn’t her I was bothered about, but everything in general, if you know what I mean. It wasn’t her I was bothered about - it could’ve been anybody, but she was the natural choice because she was close at hand like, and anyway, why not? You had to start somewhere. I didn’t give a fuck if Gary was coming back or not. She didn’t give a fuck either and she kept on talking about moving out of the neighbourhood and settling down somewhere else, and, although I made it look as if I went along with the idea, that was the last thing I was ever going to do, on account of him upstairs and just because I wasn’t bothered either way. Where I was was as good a place as any, and I didn’t give a fuck if Gary was coming back or not. What mattered to me were the voices and what they were trying to tell me to do, and the reason why I took Lager out for a walk so often was not because I cared a fuck for the bitch but because I found out I could concentrate on what I needed to know on those night walks with the dog at my side, specially in winter when it was all cold and the streets were empty. I knew there was a plan, and I knew that if I just waited and listened I would get to know what that plan was and I also thought that maybe I should try it out on a few other women first just to get the feel of it like. I would go up to my bedsitter after the walk and just stand there in the dark by the window, looking out and smoking. Lager went and curled up in the corner by the cupboard and was no trouble. Judy must’ve thought I was still out on the walk, but I wasn’t.â•‹Instead I was just watching the road outside, not really knowing what was

going on in my mind, and smoking. It gave me peace just to look at that dark street, which, as I say, was nearly always empty, because it made me think of nothing and nothing was what I wanted to think about somehow. I didn’t give a fuck what happened really. It was funny because, although I got excited by these voices, I felt sort of detached anyway, even from them, and in a way it was as if I was just stepped back from everything - I mean everything - just looking on and finding it a laugh really. I think the thing was I was so different all the time that if I really stepped back from myself and had a good look I would get worried, because there was so much there all too loosely put together that I had to hear these voices just to keep my mind in one piece, but it worried me that half the time I could not hear what they were saying. It was like listening to a radio with all the programs on at the same time and yet with the button not turned on prop’ly so you couldn’t make out what they were saying, and the other half of the time there was just one voice - a man’s sort of very commanding one and I had to listen to it. That was not happening now because I used to come up here as there was calm and silence, even from that, and I did not even have to hear myself think. I was not aware of the dog even and it was somewhere to escape because I did not like hearing these voices, not being able to understand them, and yet I could hear them telling me to do awful things that I knew were awful and that I knew I would carry out sooner or later. I used to smoke one cigarette after another, just like that, and stand there for ages. Something’d happened to the curtain. I think Judy wanted it for another room, so it was just a bare, dark window, which was cold to touch, and the street outside, which, as I say, was empty. Once or twice a person would pass by, but I would not look at them and pretended that they weren’t there, because I would’ve preferred it if no one had been there or anywhere ever. Then I used to go back downstairs again in the dark and get into bed beside Judy. She was always asleep by then and I did not wake her up. If I were lucky I would go to sleep pretty soon; if not, I would just lie there trying to keep the voices from my mind.

Chapter 9

 

This night I could not sleep anyway for tossing and turning. I’d left the dog up there and kept on thinking it was getting out of the window, along a wire that was connected to the radio. I kept a radio up there, a big old thing I’d had since childhood. Next to my boots, it was the thing I prized most like, because it connected me to my childhood. Anyway, I could not sleep and Judy woke up once or twice and said “Whatsa matter?”, but I just told her to go back to sleep. The dog was all right up there. That’s where it used to kip, on this beanbag I bought for it in the market. But I just knew it wanted to get out of the window, and was being helped in that regard by the radio. I think I was asleep when I dreamt all this. I think what stopped me from sleeping were the dreams I knew I would have; because I couldn’t control them the way I could control my thoughts. I didn’t want just to be a box for someone else. I wanted to control myself; it was my life. But I couldn’t do that when I was asleep, could I? It was that man that controlled me then. And he was right next door to Lager. In my dreams I went up there, up them dark, wooden steps to the creaking landing. I could hear the man snoring. It wasn’t just ordinary snoring though, there was a rhythm to it. He was in time to the radio, and by now the dog was out in the sky, walking along these filaments that were attached to it. I kept on touching myself, I don’t know why, and then I felt something hard. It was in my pocket and I nearly cut myself. It was the knife. I thought I was back in the pub for a moment, having a go at Sheilagh with the knife. But it was only a piece of broken glass. I could hear the dog howling, which was a very strange thing because I had never heard it howl before. The door, that old wooden door, seemed to be bursting at the seams. There seemed to be a great wind behind it, with the howling of the dog. But the man’s breathing was the worst. I thought then that his breathing

commanded the universe in a evil way. It was the evil and had to be stopped. Then I was turning in bed, and my heart was pounding. I thought I would explode, and Judy said “Whatsa matter?” for the second time. I don’t remember answering her, but I got out of bed and went upstairs. But not before I’d got the knife. I was not going to go up there without a weapon. I thought the dog needed another walk. I thought anything. Then it was morning. God, I felt wrecked. For a split second I wondered what I’d done, and then nothing. It was nothing I’d done, that was it! And yet these voices were telling me to do something, do it now, quick. I could only think that the message was not clear enough as yet for me to know what to do. Judy was in the kitchen. I followed her in in my dressing gown. I could hardly walk straight. She didn’t say nothing to me; pretended I wasn’t there. Maybe she hadn’t noticed me because I hadn’t advertised my presence like. I wanted to creep up on her, see how far I’d get. She was bending over the sink - reminded me of when she first came into my bedsit and I was within an inch of her. It would be so easy. I thought I had the knife on me, but when I felt for it it wasn’t there. She turned round. She looked frightened. “What d’you think you’re doing creeping up on me like that?” I grinned. “Only a joke.” “I don’t like jokes this time of the morning.” I let her be and went and had a shave. I had to be careful not to catch my eyes in the mirror, because they wouldn’t’ve been mine, but that man’s. So I only looked at the skin. It was dark and sick looking. I didn’t want to go to work. I didn’t want the whole thing to start again - this life what had nothing to do with me. But I had no choice, had I? It had to be, ’cos everything had to be normal. I thought of the train guard and jerked, and nearly cut myself. I heard footsteps outside and the front door slam. Why didn’t I just throw a bomb in there, that estate agent’s, and have done with it. He was coming back.

At work it was the same old story, ’cept nobody spoke to me any more. That I minded, and tried to get on with them like. But they didn’t want to know. John was the same, treating everybody the same like, and if he thought I’d been out of order that other day he didn’t let on. He just told me what to do, that’s all, like the rest. I got the message and did not go to the pub on the way home. For all I knew, Will would’ve been in there. There was always the pub on the corner anyway. Me and Sheilagh had broken the ice again, so that was all right. But I went home first and got the dog out. There it was with its tail wagging as if nothing had happened. Judy would’ve taken it out at lunchtime when she got the hour off. It didn’t do too badly, that dog. I took it to the pub and let it run around and be patted by everybody. They’d got to like that dog, and that rubbed off on me, which was nice. Then I took it walkies. I hadn’t seen the guard on that train and, in fact, it’d been a normal sort of a day. Now it was a normal evening, with me taking the dog for a walk. All normal like. But it was cold and I’d forgot my coat. It was bitter cold this time of year and I had to walk quickly just to get my blood going. Then I saw her, round by the off-licence, at the corner. She was walking a dog too, but it was not that that caught my attention; no it wasn’t. It was her tights, great black things she had on, which revealed all. By which I mean she might just as well have been wearing nothing, so tight were they. She was a tall woman, blonde, with black tights and a black dog. Lager bounded up to it and the leashes got crossed. She had come from round the corner with no warning. She was trying not to look at me, but the dogs were bounding at each other playfully and she had to do something. I was doing nothing. She bent down to pull the leash and I felt in my pocket. The knife was there. I could do it easy as shit, but what about the dog? The voices weren’t helping me; they were saying nothing. So I didn’t do anything, just let her pass. She didn’t even look at me. She went with her dog without a word, but Lager kept on tugging to go after her.

She didn’t know how lucky she’d been. I wanted to try it out on someone first. I quickly took the dog back and put it in the bedsitter. I wanted to wank, I felt that randy. It was a power thing, that I could’ve snuffed her life out, just like that. After I done it I looked out of the window again. She was somewhere out there, like all the rest. Sooner or later I would get someone - it was just a matter of time - and from now on I would always carry the knife around with me. I could say it was in case the dog got out of order. There it was, that black brute, wagging its tail at me from the beanbag. Little did it know. Little did anyone know. I went down to bed and slept soundly. I remember that, because it was a Sunday the next day and I had nothing to do ’cept go to church. That was something I’d taken up, going to church I mean. I felt a cunt for doing it, but me mother kept on telling me to go. Not that I would’ve obeyed her like, were it not that sometimes I knew I needed him because everything seemed so normal when I knew it was not. Afterwards I got into bed with Judy and gave it to her three times. She was surprised and came on a bit moody at first. But I told her what a strain I’d been under and how I needed some space. I did not tell her I had been to church, as she would not’ve understood. She thought I’d taken the dog for a walk, but I’d just left it in the bedsitter, and I knew she never went up there any more because I told her it was my place to do what I liked in and she’s wanted me to move in so bad she hadn’t argued. Then I went to the pub and had a skinful. I don’t remember much about the next day ’cept I would’ve been at work. Things seemed to ’ave got better a bit. I thought of going to that priest who had done the service. He seemed approachable like, but it was me mother telling me not to for some reason. It was me mother this, me mother that, and the only thing that replaced her was the drink. I was frightened of meeting her on the train again and would always look out for a dark woman with a cow’s backside in case it was her. But she was being more than clever enough for me, and it got so I wanted the voices to come back just so I could ’ave some safety from her. Then they did come back. It was when I was in bed with Judy, lying on me

side, and I heard them in my left ear, but I couldn’t make out what they were saying. I had to go for a walk. I didn’t know what time it was and I didn’t care. The dog came willingly, but beyond the door opposite I could hear his breathing, and I knew that sooner or later I would have to do something. I started to grow a beard about this time. I wanted to hide. Sheilagh wound me up about that. She said I looked like a mass murderer or something, and I told her to shut it. When she looked at me her eyes just got bigger and bigger, that’s all. It was as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t. She played with the dog instead, and without looking would say, “How come yer not with yer missus all that much? It’s a shame.” “Me missus understands. She knows I need space.” Then she would look at me again, but it was as if she could hardly bear to look at me, her eyes were quivering so much. And then she said, “You can do what you like with me. Honestly. Honestly, I don’t mind.” I told her to shut it, but once after that I took her back to my bedsitter and did it with her - with the dog there an’ all. She seemed ever so grateful. She went out by herself as I stood by that window, smoking. I don’t remember how much time went - it all seemed like winter to me - then I got laid off. The guv’nor said it was the time of year, but I knew he usually kept me on over Christmas, so it must’ve been something else. The other lads weren’t sorry to see me go - in fact they thought I was a different person with me beard - and I was not sorry to see them go either. But it meant I had a lot of time on me hands, and I did not tell Judy I’d been laid off because she would’ve asked me what I kept on travelling on them trains for, and I didn’t like to tell her I had a meeting every day with me mum at Victoria. Those days I kept on getting headaches too - real splitting things. I felt my head was bursting so much I really would have to see that priest. But I never did ’cos me mam were allus at the train station an’ I knew she would have a go at me if I were to let on what I

thought. I couldn’t not tell her like, because she’d know anyway, and that would get me into trouble. The train guard had disappeared. I’d never met him anyway, not to talk to like. And me mam would take me in charge even though she was one of those people you’re bursting to get rid of but you can do nothing about. Anyway, I told her about that woman with the dog and the black tights, and she said that her kind were no good because they got decent men like meself into trouble and they ought to be got rid of. I asked her when she was going to introduce me to God and she said she didn’t know, perhaps sometime, but he was a bit tied up at the moment. Judy she didn’t seem to mind. I told her I’d had a go at her but that wasn’t it, if you see what I mean, and she said she was very good as practice but nothing more than that. What about the man upstairs then? And she said she didn’t know, she would have to find out. But basically what she was saying was all these people had it in for me because they knew my worth and were jealous. She were only me mam, so it was not surprising she was saying these things, and I wanted to get away from her because of that, but she was always there - waiting for me at the train station just when I thought I was going to be free and would go on my own travels. Then one day I gave her the slip. I’d got to the train station a bit early, but she was still waiting there, looking out for me. I pretended I hadn’t seen her and went round in a big circle. I don’t think she noticed, but when I got on the train she was there - sitting right next to me! “Hello Mam,” I said. She didn’t say anythink. I asked myself if she knew what I’d done, but of course she did. All I could do now was wait for her to say somethink. It took her a long time. “John, you didn’t tell me about your job did you love.” “No, Mam.” “Why not, John? I have the right to know, you know.” “Yes, Mam.” “Are you going to get another, because I have something to say to you.”

“What’s that, Mam?” “You’ve got a mission, love. It’s to get rid of them evil ones. Don’t you forget it. Yer dad used to say yer’d come into yer own one day an’ I believed him. Now’s the time. It’s just as well you ’ave lost that job.” “But what do I do, Mam? What do I do?” “Yer’ll think of something. Yer not stupid. Yer were very bright at school, no matter what they said. Yer a son of mine, aren’t yer? We allus took a long time in coming into our own. Look at me.” She lit a cigarette. It was funny because she wasn’t really there. I felt all cold all of a sudden, as if I’d been sitting next to a ghost. Well, they’re all ghosts, aren’t they? I mean. She leant forward with her cigarette and made one of her legs touch mine. There was no warmth to her thigh. I was embarrassed. I thought she wanted - you know. Me own mam! But I think it was because she was just so lost in her own thoughts - as I was. I did not have Lager with me, but I thought if I were to take her for a walk again, along the place where I went before, at the same time, then maybe I would meet that woman with the tights again, and the dog. I wanted to do that because I had to show me mother I had thought of something, although truth to tell I’d just been sitting on my own thoughts for weeks. Or, to be more accurate, they had been sitting on me. Me mother disappeared and the burning came back in my head. For a minute I thought she had set light to my hair with her cigarette, and I clutched at it. I think I must’ve been muttering something an’ all, ’cos the other passengers like moved away from me - including that one I’ve told you about, the one who must’ve been working in an office. He was still staring at me an’ all. It made me angry. He was interrupting my thoughts for no good reason, and for all I knew me mother had disappeared because of him. He was such a horrible little man with his orange tie, and I felt he must’ve been following me around ever since I first set eyes on him because here he was again, sitting right opposite. He was the only one not to ’ave got up and moved away. I couldn’t stand it any longer. I went

and thumped him. The others screamed and a man came to try to stop me. As far as I was concerned it was just like that time in the pub and all I had to do was get out. For, once again, I had attacked the wrong person and it had got me nowhere. Luckily the train was coming into the station and so I had a chance to get out. I heard someone shout “Stop that man!” - I think it was the one who’d tried to come between me and him, but no one else did anything at all. They were all scared, weren’t they? I ran away before anyone could do anything. That night I thought something would have to happen. I was in my bedsit with the dog wagging its tail, expecting to go out. I’d been in there ever since I got back, just thinking. I couldn’t think too much though ’cos of the beating inside my head. I had to think for a bit, then give it a rest. Something would have to happen; something would have to happen, it was as simple as that. But what? Chances were I wouldn’t meet that woman again, luckily for her. Unless someone were guiding me, and I didn’t think they were because I thought I’d been left on my own to prove myself. No, I would have to work it out all by myself and I could try, couldn’t I? But I mightn’t meet the right person and I was fed up with doing it to the wrong people. The trouble was, because I was on my own, I did not have the right guide and so could not tell one person from another. That would change sooner or later, but not now. If I wanted it to change I would have to do something - but what? I did not want to see my mother again, but I knew I was lost without her. I suppose I could’ve just picked anyone, but that wasn’t the point, was it? I really did not know what to do. It was awful. I was in a real state and practically banging my head against the wall, but I did not do that because I knew he was one of the really evil ones and I was just not ready for him. I thought of Sheilagh. It would be easy to get her back in here again and then I could do her and that would be easy ’cos she wouldn’t think it was coming. And I wouldn’t have to run after that either, because no one would see me do it. ’Cept her, of course.

The more I thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. After all, it was her kind that was allus going after men, if you could call them that, and she deserved everything she got. What Mam had said about practice makes perfect went for her an’ all, I felt sure - unless she was one of the ones. She practically selled herself, didn’t she? For gin I mean. What I minded was thinking she was an easy target and that was why I was doing it, yet I had to do it to someone because time was running out. There was nothing against practising and me mother could say after that if I’d done well or not. She might even introduce me to God if I had or he might even come to me direct, just like he done before. I wanted to get at them voices again ’cos I felt my head was like a radio whose batteries could easily run out and then I would be lost. The dog was wagging its tail so much that I finally took it out. I walked around for a bit but it was too cold to do much, even though I went to that place where I had seen the woman in tights, and of course she was not there even though I waited around for a bit, until Lager started to whine with the cold. But I don’t think I would’ve done somethink even if she had come along because it was a bit public like, and anyway I had not brought the knife with me, leaving that in my bedsit beside the bed, hidden. After that I went straight to the pub. It was crowded. I went straight up to the bar but Sheilagh wasn’t there. I couldn’t believe it. I had not thought this would happen, that she would get the wind up like, but now that I had got there I could hardly do anythink ’cept have a pint, could I? Specially as the lads were all saying, “Here, Lager!”, wanting to have a pat at the dog, who as usual was all over the place with them. The barman was smiling at me and already pouring my usual even though the place was so crowded, and when I said, “Sheilagh been in tonight?”, it was with a natural voice. It was like someone else said it, one of those voices in my head, not me at all. John did not look up from the pint glass when he said, “No, I haven’t seen her”, and from the way he said it I just knew he was in league with

me like, that he knew all about my quest but he would not let on about it, not for the world. I drank the pint and watched Lager run about the place making a fool of herself as usual. She was too friendly, that was the dog’s trouble, but what could you do about it? You can’t talk to animals. I drank my second pint almost as quick as the first, then I told John I had to be going. “She might be here later on, John,” he said. “Why’s that then?” “I dunno. She usually comes in later, that’s all. She usually …” “You don’t have to tell me, John. I know what she usually.” We looked at each other and grinned. Lager’d come to sit at my feet and I got myself a third pint. I could wait. There was a right festive atmosphere in there anyway, as it was coming up to Christmas time. John asked me if I wanted to join in the raffle, but I said I didn’t have enough money as I’d just lost me job. “I’m sorry to hear that, John. You could work in here if you want. We’re allus looking for good people and I know you can take care of yourself.” How times’ve changed! It was only a few months back that he wanted me out for fighting. I looked at him. “Just over the Christmas season like. We’re allus looking for extra staff then.” “That’s kind of you, John. I’ll think about it if you don’t mind.” “Yes, well, don’t leave it too late or Christmas’ll be over.” “No I won’t, John.” But I knew what I was going to say. I couldn’t work there, could I? ’Cos I had too much else to do. That much I knew. But I asked myself why he’d offered me the job in the first place and I thought maybe this was the testing time that they wanted to see if I would take the job or not. I looked at him. There was nothing in his eyes.

He went on, “We allus get a lot of trouble over Christmas. Well, they don’t mean bad these lads, but you know what it’s like with the booze ’n’ all. Think about it, John.” “I will.” He had to go off and serve somebody else then. I was happy just to sit there waiting for her to come. Lager’d yawned and gone to sleep. It was amazing how she could do it even in a noisy place like this. If I worked here that would make sure that I would see her. ’Cos I didn’t want to miss her. I dunno why, but it kind of excited me to think of doing it over Christmas, like a kind of sacrifice sort of thing. I’m sure they would be pleased. And she would wait until I’d finished of an evening. Of that I was sure. Was that why John had offered me the job? Maybe. Anyway, I thought about it and thought I would go for it. I did not even ask John how much I would be getting ’cos that had nothing to do with it. And when I told Judy all about it she seemed to think it was a good idea. “Give you something else to do, lad!” she said. It wasn’t any of her business anyway, but she was quite happy in herself these days. What with her job ’n’ all. I think she must’ve just turned a blind eye to what I was doing, ’cos we didn’t see very much of each other now. I saw more of the dog. I was always in the bedsitter and she accepted that. I don’t know why. I think I gave her a shock like, when I crept up on her, and after that she didn’t want to know, ’cos she’d got happier over the weeks I’d been with her, I could tell that, and thought it was just ’cos she needed a man around. Come to think of it, I didn’t know what I was doing with her, and I got angry because I didn’t know why I’d asked her if she thought it was a good idea at all. I think she was surprised, because she didn’t say anything at all at first. She just looked at me and for a moment I thought she was onto my plan, but she was too stupid for that, of that I was sure. It was stupid of me to think she had twigged: she didn’t know Sheilagh went in there; she didn’t even know Sheilagh.

And then she didn’t say any more, she just poured herself another drink and turned the telly on. It was the usual Christmas rubbish and I went upstairs. I could not go back to the pub tonight ’cos I hadn’t fully made up my mind and I didn’t want to say anything I might regret, but I had to do something, didn’t I? It was not as if I didn’t need to go out of an evening, even though I didn’t need to get drunk so much, on account of not being at work all day. Well, it was not that, really; it was ’cos I now had a mission and I didn’t want to drink at all, in fact. I couldn’t stand the stuff and saw it as evil now, and only had a pint or two at the pub ’cos if I didn’t John would know something was up. I wasn’t that sure of him that I knew he would know why I didn’t drink, and anyway what are you supposed to do in a pub ’cept drink? I simply could not ask for an orange juice or anythink like that: the words would stick in my throat. But the stuff tasted piss-poor these days. I looked out the knife and felt the blade. It was sharp; you could cut yourself if you weren’t careful. Lager seemed to take an interest like: she must’ve thought it was a bone or something. I kicked her out the way and studied the blade: it was that sharp it seemed to have the power within it, if you know what I mean. I kept on touching it, I don’t know why; and turning it over in my hand. I don’t know how long I was doing that for, but it was a long time. It felt so good in my hands, and hard like, and solid. And the blade was so sharp, you could tell that. It would go in real easy, of that I was sure. But then I thought: what about the blood? What was I going to do about the blood? I did not seem like a knifeman to myself. These muscles of mine were too big to need any implements. Besides, she was only a woman, wasn’t she? There would be no problem with the blood then, would there, if I strangled her? So that was what I was going to do, just strangle her like, get rid of her once and for all. She deserved no better than that. Probably she was looking forward to it if she knew.

Chapter 10

 

I was ashamed to think I might’ve used the knife - on a woman an’ all. It would not be right. I’m sure God would’ve told me that if I’d bothered to ask him. I would go to church first. That would calm my mind. Of late I’d found I could hear the voices better in there. It was so quiet like, there was less interference. The radio became prop’ly tuned. Just as I’d always wanted. I would go and pray to the Lord Almighty in the hope that he would see me through my task. That was how I liked to think of it. It’s funny, but I seemed of late to have rid my mind of all sorts of stuff what used to cunt it up in the past. Like that man upstairs - he did not bother me any more. And Judy - she did not bother me any more either. Neither of them was worth bothering with. It’s funny how I thought different once. But then everything was different now. The way was clear. It was just a question of time. I suppose I’d better tell you about the pub when I worked in it, the one where John said I could have a job over Christmas. Well, it was a disaster, that job. I was just not cut out for bartending as it happened, and I blame him because he should’ve spotted it like. How was I to know? It was all right at the beginning, when the place was not crowded like, but later on it drove me mad, with everybody shouting like there was no tomorrow - at me too. I could not be doing with counting the change. I just could not be doing with it, but when they said I got it wrong I just lost my temper. It was a disaster. John had a quiet word with me, and the next day that was that. He was all friendly like, but I reckon he thought I’d lost him business, over Christmas too. “You’re better on the other side of the bar, John. That’s what everybody thinks.” “Yeah.”

I didn’t mind. I’d had mixed feelings about it really. Felt I’d have to leave Lager at home ’n’ all. She made a proper cunt of herself when I got back that night. I never heard such a fuss. So I went back to my old ways, an’ took her for a walk twice as long the next night just to make up for it like. It was as if I’d deserted her. Not so with Judy. I think she was happy that my job hadn’t lasted more’n a day. I think she thought it was some kind of victory or something. The off-licence she worked at was part of the same chain as the pub, and she got to hear about it even before I could tell her. “You’re not cut out for that sort of thing, John. Maybe you’ll never work again.” “Oh no? Why’s that then?” I was not looking at her when I said this, but doing something else. “You don’t care any more, do you, John? You don’t give a fuck.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “Nothing.” I noticed she’d been riling me like, these days. She wanted to get a rise out of me; I was being too quiet. I was always doing something with my hands, fiddling as if there was something needing mending. I couldn’t remember the last time I looked her in the eye. Well, that doesn’t mean anything anyway. Eyes are very overrated things. She never said anything about it. I wanted to get away from her, if possible, at any cost. Even if I had to be with her, I wanted to pretend that I was not with her. She got the message and didn’t care. Oh, how I ached for something to happen in those days. Time was passing like the drip of a tap and there was nothing I could do about it. Funnily enough, Sheilagh had not been in the pub the night I worked there, but she would get to hear about it and all. I would be the laughing stock. I wondered if I would see her before Christmas, and I thought for the first time that I did not know where she lived or anything like that about her. She never told me and I never thought of it until now. Perhaps she would be fed up with Christmas too, and would want to do something different. I

could take her to see my parents down in Portsmouth. That would be a surprise an’ all. For them I mean. Then I remembered. I didn’t have any parents down in Portsmouth, on account of my mother being dead and my father having disappeared like, a long time ago. Sisters then? Brothers and sisters? None of them either. They were all gone, gone down the plughole. I couldna even remember if I had started out in life with them or not. I couldna even remember starting out in life. What on earth was such a thing supposed to mean? “I wish you’d stop talking to yourself, John Skinner. It frightens me.” “What?” I was still in the same room as Judy, without noticing. “You’re always talking to yourself, or to someone who isn’t there. Stop it.” I did not say anything. It was as if she’d turned a knob on the radio and made it go out of tune. I couldna get me thoughts back. So I went out for a walk. I wanted to be by myself as usual. I did not take Lager with me; she was beginning to cunt me off something rotten. I’d been thinking of getting rid of her, only I didn’t know how. Snow’d fallen the night before, and I did not have my proper shoes on. That I minded, but it was too late to do anythink about it. So I just carried on walking, my feet getting chiller and chiller through the moccasins I was wearing. I was walking aimlessly, just trying to get Judy out of my mind really, when I saw that woman again - the one with the thighs. At least I think it was her. She did not have her dog with her either though. I thought I would go up and say hello to her but something held me back. She was walking along with her head up in the clouds, as if she’d be difficult to get through to. Besides, what did I have to say to her? Fuck all. She would not want to know me, would she? It were only the likes of Sheilagh who would want to know me. Then I felt pissed off. It was not right that she would not want to know me. Who did she think she was, that she did not want to know me?

I felt like teaching her a lesson. As I was thinking these things, she disappeared round a corner and I had to hurry along to catch up with her. All the same, something was holding me back from talking to her. The way her shoulders came into view, it was uncanny. She had broad shoulders, and I was almost touching them even though I was not within a few feet of her, if you see what I mean. I was surprised she could walk so fast, and so unconcerned like, in the snow. It was a bother for me to keep up with her. I don’t think it was the same woman actually - just the same type. A bit like Linda really, come to think of it. Big and attractive; someone you felt you would not be able to keep up with. I could not try out my tricks on her, of that I was sure. She would not want to know, she just would not want to know. Why was I following her? I did not know why I was following her. What did I want to do, kill her? Why? She was not like Sheilagh or the rest of them. I did not even know her. I couldna help myself. I just kept on following her for no reason at all. There weren’t any thoughts in my head. I’d forgotten about the cold in my feet. I was not thinking of anything except the shape of her shoulders as they tilted in front of me, like they were a kite or something and I a little boy with the string. Then she walked up a staircase to a block of flats. I stopped and just stayed watching her. I thought she would turn to look at me but she didn’t. Why should she? I knew she’d be gone when she got to the top of the steps, and then I would never see her again. It did not seem fair somehow, although as I say I had never seen her before and she had nothing to do with me. I felt lonely when she had gone from my view. I just stayed watching the space where she had departed. Yes, she did look like Linda, of that I was sure. I could always wait for her to come out again. Why not? I had nothing else to do. So I just waited, standing there, a long, long time. The cold did creep back in, and I asked myself what I thought I was doing. But I did not have an answer. Then me mother came out on the steps. She was looking straight at me, and she was grinning. It was such a

shock. It was as if she’d known I’d be there even before she seed me. How old she looked. She were dressed all in black and really skinny. She seemed more like a grandmother than a mother, she were that old. I took fright and turned to walk away, but it was difficult. I’d been stood there for so long that I got stuck in the snow. Then I thought: I didn’t want to move, that was why I was not moving; and I felt me hand go to me balls ’cos it were the knife I were after. Did I really think I would not’ve brought that with me? Already I could hear her breathing. She was getting closer. She didn’t have the dog with her. I knew she did not have the dog with her. All I had to do was wait, and she would pass me. Then there would be the end of all this. I prayed to God there would be the end of all this. I could see her from behind, a little grinning monkey all dressed in black, with those thighs. I thought she was putting her arms around me until I couldn’t stand it and turned. The knife were in me hand; I pushed it in. There was like a sound of surprise, an “Oh!” from someone, and she received the knife like it were a gift or something, and went to kneel on the ground with it. I was God at that instant; I felt a release from all this, from all what had been bothering me for so long. I made sure the knife kept in, and she started to moan. I had to crouch down beside her to keep the knife in. She were not struggling at all. She couldn’t; she were dying. I could see the blood on the snow, darker in the darkness, but hotter, much hotter than the snow ’cos I had put me hand in it to steady meself. Then she was gone, and I heard screaming all around, including in me head. I heard footsteps and shouts in the snow. Somebody knocked me block off. Unlike with the pub fights, I was not going anywhere.

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