1953 - The Things Men Do (8 page)

"Well, thanks."

I walked with him to the entrance where Berry had just got through measuring up the floor space. He had marked the space out with chalk, and looked inquiringly at Dix.

"That what you want?"

"Yeah. Be on the job first thing in the morning. I want everything ready by Friday."

"It'll be ready."

Dix turned to me.

"So long, pally. Start counting the days. You'll be running the most prosperous agency in the West End by next year."

"Let's hope so."

He climbed into the Cadillac.

"See you've got Gloria's bus here. Nice job, isn't it?"

"A cracker."

He gave me a jeering little grin.

"Be seeing you."

I walked slowly back to the office and sat down.

Something was wrong, I told myself. I was willing to bet none of these three were radio experts. What then was the idea?

What was behind this business?

I wondered if Gloria knew, and if she did, whether she would tell me. I slipped my hand into my trousers pocket and fingered the five-pound notes.

I don't want every Tom, Dick or Harry sticking his nose in where it's not wanted, Dix had said. That was a blunt enough hint I was getting well paid, and it was none of my business.

I'd better start right now by not sticking my nose where it wasn't wanted.

Ann came into the office.

"I saw them go."

I reached out and pulled her on to my lap.

"It didn't work out as good as I hoped. The agency isn't going to start for a year."

"Oh!" Her look of relief irritated me. "Perhaps it's just as well, Harry. I don't like the look of those two."

"Now wait a minute. It's not as if we're having them to live with us. I don't like them much myself, but they've got money and they're free with it. I can't afford to pass up any opportunity, Ann, and you know it. They're working on a new television set that'll cut out traffic interference. It will revolutionize the trade once it's on the market, but at the moment, they're having a little trouble with it. They've rented a piece of the garage and they're going to turn it into a workshop. As soon as they've perfected the set, it goes on to the market, and the agency will start with me on the ground floor."

"But that wasn't the original idea, was it? He led you to believe . . ."

"I know. But he didn't want to tell me about the set until he was sure this was the right place. You've got to be damned careful when you're handling new and important apparatus, Ann. You'd be surprised at the number of people ready to steal ideas."

I was actually defending Dix, when all the time I was thinking as she was thinking.

"But surely, Harry, that isn't quite right. They could take out a patent, couldn't they?"

I began to get irritated.

"I don't know. Don't bother your brains about it. The fact is he's willing to pay me fifteen pounds a week to rent this space, and that's good enough for me."

"Fifteen pounds a week?"

I produced the roll of five-pound notes and dropped it into her lap.

"There you are: a month's rent in advance, and it needn't go through our books."

"Harry! Seventy-five pounds!"

I looked at her, hoping she would be excited, or at least pleased, but I might have known she was too cautious, too shrewd, to be taken in any more than I was being taken in.

"There's something wrong about those two. Please be sensible, Harry. Please give them back this money and have nothing more to do with them."

"For heaven's sake! We want the money."

"No, we don't. Not this kind of money."

"You're imagining things. Just because Dix wears a flashy tie . . ."

She got off my lap and faced me.

"It's not that. Fifteen pounds a week for a small piece of this garage is ridiculous, Harry, and you know it! Why, there's an empty shop at the top of the street going for six pounds a week. Why didn't he take that? Why come here? Why should he pay all this money to rent a tiny space here?"

I began to get angry.

"Now look, Ann, I appreciate you don't want me to get into any sort of trouble. I understand that. Well, I'm not a fool, and I'm not getting into any trouble. Maybe these two are fakes, but what harm can they do? I need the money. I need it damned badly. Look at the bills we owe. I don't have to tell you our position. I'm going to keep it so don't let's argue about it anymore."

"Please, Harry . . ."

"I'm running this business, Ann. You're running the home. Please don't interfere."

"But don't you see, darling . . ."

"Oh, stop it!"

She looked at me for a long moment, then turned and went slowly out of the office.

I reached out and picked up the five-pound notes. For a minute or so I sat staring at them.

I had been a mug long enough, I told myself. I was going to keep this money. It was high time Ann learned to mind her own business, and let me mind mine.

I sat in the office brooding for some time. No one came near me. At half-past six I decided to call it a day and shut up.

As I went down to close the doors, Bill walked in from the sorting-office.

"Hello there."

"I was just calling it a day. Come on in. How do you like the new job?"

He helped me close the double doors.

"The job's all right. Not much doing at the moment, but next week we've got an important consignment to take care of. Keep that under your hat, Harry."

"I couldn't care less what goes on over there. I'm glad you came over, Bill. I've got some money for you."

"There's no hurry. I don't want it yet."

"You're going to have it while I've got it. I've had a bit of luck."

He gave me a quick, searching look.

"I'm glad to hear that. It's time you had some luck."

"Come into the office."

When we had settled in chairs, I slid five five-pound notes across the desk.

"I'll let you have the rest of it next month. I've leased a bit of the garage to a radio firm and, believe it or not, they're paying fifteen quid a week for the privilege."

Bill whistled.

"Nice going. Sure you won't hang on to this a little longer?"

"Take it, Bill. I don't like owing you money."

"Please yourself." He put the notes into his pocket "What was up with you on Saturday night, Harry?"

I grinned, but I couldn't meet his eyes. I lit a cigarette to cover up my embarrassment.

"Made a bit of a fool of myself, didn't I? I was just telling Ann. You see I was fixing up this radio deal. They wanted to see me on Saturday night. I didn't want to tell Ann until I was sure it was going through. So I pretended I had a breakdown call. Damn silly come to think of it. Ann spotted I wasn't telling the truth."

Bill gave me an old-fashioned look.

"So did I. You're not cut out for those stunts, Harry. You didn't make our evening a very pleasant one. Ann was worried sick: so was I."

I began to feel irritated.

"You two fuss too much about me. I just wasn't sure if I was going to pull off the deal. I didn't want Ann to be disappointed."

"Don't get your shirt off," Bill said and smiled. "Well, you did pull it off. Congratulations. They must be suckers to pay all that money for a piece of this garage. Why, there's an empty shop up the street . . ."

I was getting fed up hearing about this empty shop.

"I know. Ann was telling me. It's their business if they want to come here, isn't it?"

He was quick to spot my irritation.

"Lucky for you, anyway. By the way, Harry, who are these people? What's the firm's name?"

I suddenly realized with a sense of shock that I didn't know the name.

"The chap's name's Dix: Ed Due. The company's making a new kind of T.V. set. It's secret at the moment. They'll be doing experimental work here."

"But what do they call themselves?"

"I don't know." I felt my face redden. "They're a small company: just starting."

"Doesn't sound as if they'll last long, paying out all that money for a piece of this garage. Well, I suppose they know their own business best. Probably a racket to evade paying excess profits or something like that."

"That's the way I figured it."

He stubbed out his cigarette, stroked the side of his blunt nose, and then looked up with an apologetic grin.

"Sorry if I'm butting it, Harry, but I shouldn't pull that stunt of yours again. Ann was pretty sick about it."

Again I felt a wave of irritation run through me.

"Don't drive it into the ground, for goodness' sake. Ann and I have talked it over. You don't have to worry about it."

"Just thought I'd mention it." He got to his feet. "Well, I'm off home now. Be seeing you, Harry."

I walked with him to the entrance to the garage.

He paused by the Jaguar.

"So she is garaging her car here," he said.

"That's right." I tried to sound casual, but I knew I wasn't making a job of it.

He looked at me.

"Some girl, Harry. The sort of girl that would give any man ideas: she gave me a few myself."

"Did she?"

"A girl like that wants watching. Take my tip and watch her."

"You buzz off, Bill." My smile was fixed and my irritation was fast turning to anger. "Watch her yourself if you want to.

I've got a business to look after."

"Did you meet Dix through her, Harry?"

"What the hell do you mean?" I said, feeling blood rush to my face.

"It's obvious, isn't it? You don't think you fooled me on Saturday, do you?"

"Now look, Bill

"I'm looking and I don't like what I'm seeing. See here, Harry, you're due for a straight talking to. You're shaping to make an ass of yourself over that girl."

"I don't know what you mean. If you can't talk sense you'd better clear off!"

"Don't let's get angry about this, Harry. It sticks out a mile. You saw that girl on Saturday, didn't you? Maybe you did see Dix, but she was there too. I know the signs. When a man wants a woman as badly as you want her, he looks the way you looked on Saturday. I'm going to tell you something. You've got to think of Ann before you do anything you'll be ashamed of. If you don't want to keep your self-respect, you've got to make an effort for her sake."

I stood rooted, glaring at him.

"You've got it all wrong! You can't talk this way to me!"

"Don't get hot under the collar. It won't get you anywhere to glare at me. I know what you're up to. Leave that girl alone: she's no good, and make her leave you alone. You've got Ann who's worth a hundred girls like this one. You're a married man with responsibilities. Try and act your age, Harry."

I closed my fist and swung at him. I was so furious I forgot he had been the light-heavyweight champion of our battalion. He moved inside my wild swing and caught me a crisp clip on the jaw.

I scarcely felt it, but I went down as if I'd been pole-axed.

He bent over me.

"Sorry, Harry, but you asked for that. You should know better than to lead with your right." He grabbed hold of my wrist and pulled me to my feet.

I was shaking with rage and wrenched myself free.

"You go to hell!"

"Now look, Harry, I said I was sorry. Don't let's fall out . . .”

"Get out!"

I turned and walked back to the office. Harry went inside and slammed the door.

chapter seven

S
oon after nine o'clock the following morning, Berry arrived with three workmen and a lorry load of timber.

I kept clear of him as I was in a poisonous mood, still furious with Bill and irritated almost to exasperation by Ann's worried quietness.

I knew the main reason for my mood was because I hadn't seen Gloria since the party. I expected her to come in for her car, and every time anyone did come into the garage, I dived out of the office, hoping it would be her, until I was ready to walk up a wall.

I was also worried that Bill had seen through me so easily. If I were as transparent as all that it wouldn't be long before Ann ceased to be taken in by my lies, and then I didn't like to think what would happen.

The noise of hammering didn't help my nerves, and the racket the three workmen made was really something to hear.

But it was surprising the progress they made during the day.

By evening all the uprights were in position and a work bench had been assembled.

They knocked off work around six o'clock, and after they had gone, I went down to have a word with Berry.

"You certainly kept them at it. They've made a pretty good start, haven't they?"

He gave me a long stare, then nodded.

"It's got to be ready by Friday. When Ed wants a thing, he gets it."

"Looks as if it will be ready by Friday."

He grunted. I could see he didn't particularly want to talk to me.

"I never asked him: what's the name of your outfit?"

His eyes shifted.

"Then you'd better ask him. I'm just a stooge around here." He pushed his hat to the back of his head and grimaced. "Well, I guess I'll be shoving along."

"Come across the road and have a quick one before you go."

He shook his head.

"No, thanks. I've got a date.

He began dusting himself down as he moved towards the Humber he had parked near Gloria's Jaguar.

"Seen Gloria lately?"

He shot me a blank stare.

"Who?"

I felt my face go hot.

"Gloria Selby."

"Saw her last Saturday, same as you. Why?"

"Just wondered. She doesn't use her car much, does she?"

"Worry you?"

I forced a laugh.

"No: just seems a waste of a nice bus."

"That's her business, isn't it? Well, I'll be shoving. So long."

He got into the Humber, backed it out and drove away, leaving me feeling foolish and angry.

That had been a mistake, I told myself, as I walked back to the office. I shouldn't have mentioned Gloria to him.

I sat down, lit a cigarette and stared at the top of the desk. I tat like that for several minutes, then my hand went out and I picked up the telephone book. I thumbed through it.