Only when i larf, p.15
Only When I Larf, page 15
‘Of course you could,’ I said. He hung to me like a survivor on a piece of flotsam. We stood silently for a moment or so. Finally I said, ‘How much money do we have left?’ Silas said, ‘Five thousand six hundred and sixty-four pounds eighteen shillings and fourpence.’
‘What about the mews cottage lease and the cars and the scrap metal?’ I said. ‘You’re forgetting about those, aren’t you?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Silas. ‘Yes I’m forgetting those.’
‘Don’t be scared Silas,’ I said.
‘Everyone is scared sometimes,’ he said.
‘Try not to show it,’ I said. ‘We need to be at our very best. Any time now someone might start asking questions.’
‘Well, I just might refuse to answer questions,’ said Silas angrily.
‘That would be a sure sign,’ I said.
‘To hell with them,’ said Silas. ‘I’ve got to rest up in the hotel for a bit, take it easy, we have enough money left for me to take a rest surely?’
‘Depends what you call a rest,’ I said. ‘We couldn’t stop for three months the way you wanted to, when the money seemed ours for certain.’
‘Keep a sense of proportion,’ said Silas. ‘I’ll handle the bravery stuff; you keep a sense of proportion.’
‘If you say so, caterpillar,’ I said.
‘Maybe I should leave you,’ said Silas. ‘Perhaps that would be best for both of us.’ He searched my face awaiting my reply.
‘Don’t think of it, caterpillar,’ I said unemotionally. ‘We need you.’ He gripped my arm spitefully, but I shook myself free.
‘I need you,’ said Silas. ‘I need you more than you need me, how would I ever replace you?’
‘There will always be plenty of girls running after you Silas; prettier ones than me, cleverer ones than me. You’d have no trouble replacing me. You are a Svengali with women, so don’t pretend you don’t know it.’
‘There, there my love,’ said Silas. He came close to me and held me gently. There was just the last dusty light of day coming into the room. We stood still for a long time. Outside in Park Lane there was the sound of the traffic. A wintry mist was piling up in the park, softly cloaking the trees and exposing only the highest. I kissed Silas briefly. Silas was not as tall as he once was, or was it Bob and I who had grown.
‘Don’t treat me like a machine Liz,’ said Silas. ‘I have human emotions like love and hunger, so why shouldn’t I show fear once in a while.’
‘It’s nothing to do with fear Silas, and you know it. Just stop trying to manipulate me.’
‘Sometimes I wake up in the morning and I’m frightened to open my eyes, I’m so convinced you won’t be there.’
‘Stop it Silas,’ I said.
‘When you go shopping I feel I must be with you, or you’ll be hit by a passing bus. You speak with another man, and I’m convinced that I have lost you.’
‘No, Silas, no.’
‘And when your looks are reserved solely for me, I fear you are seeing a man, old and wrinkled and frightened of being left alone.’
‘No Silas,’ I said. ‘I won’t fall for that stuff again. You think you can twist me around your little finger. You don’t even bother to vary the sales talk, but it won’t work any longer.’ I sobbed and kissed him. ‘No,’ I said, ‘No.’ I didn’t want to cry in front of him but I couldn’t prevent myself.
Silas took me for an evening on the town. I put on my silver dress and my mink stole and Silas wore his new evening suit with a tall old-fashioned collar and a gold rimmed monocle that he could hold in his eye, even when he laughed. We hired a chauffeur and used Silas’s sleek black Rolls as we purred from a restaurant to a party and from there to a discotheque and gambling club named Ysobels. Silas won fifty-two pounds at the tables, and bought champagne for everyone and tipped the croupier too lavishly. He was twelve pounds up at that stage and feeling reckless, he put a ten pound chip across 10 and 11 and it paid him one hundred and seventy pounds. He put the whole lot on to the odd numbers and thirty-three came up, so he doubled his money, then he put twenty-five pounds each on to 1, 2, 4, 8,16 and 32. This doubling up of the numbers being, what Silas calls, his system. Thirty-two paid off and he had nearly a thousand pounds. I pulled him away from the tables and we went downstairs. We had a drink at the bar and then we danced. Silas was happy.
This was a discotheque for short haired, starch linened, middle aged, wealthy swingers, and the music was slow and square, and so were the dancers and no one pushed or spilt drinks on you. For a moment I again saw Silas through the grease lensed haze in which I’d fallen in love with him. I held him and danced close and tried to pretend that it was five years ago.
We were having one last drink before going home when a fat man in a dinner suit and white carnation spoke to Silas.
‘Did I see you make that most comfortable little win upstairs, sir?’ said the fat man. He fingered his slim moustache.
‘That’s right,’ said Silas finishing his drink. The barman arrived to serve the fat man, who ordered a large brandy and added, ‘and the same again of whatever they are drinking for my two friends there.’
Silas hated people speaking to him in bars – perhaps because con men make contact with suckers that way – but I suppose he thought that in our present position a new acquaintance couldn’t hurt us.
‘I love lucky people,’ said the fat man. ‘I always hope that a little of their luck will rub off on me. Forgive me for presuming to buy you a drink, but don’t let me delay you if you were just about to go.’
‘We’re not in that much of a hurry,’ said Silas.
‘Good,’ said the fat man. ‘Have a cigar.’
Silas nodded. The fat man called to the bar tender. ‘Kenny. Bring my Coronas over would you.’
‘I feel I should be treating you,’ said Silas.
‘No, no, no,’ said the fat man. ‘A win is good for a place. At least every one says it is. Too much good like that, I sometimes say to my partner, and we’ll be in Carey Street.’ The fat man laughed gently to conclude his joke.
‘Are you the owner?’ asked Silas.
‘My God, I wish I were,’ said the fat man. ‘No, I have only twenty-eight per cent. My line is movie making. I’m a rich producer.’
He laughed again in self mockery. A cigarette girl came past and he clicked his fingers at her and asked for matches. On the cigarette tray there were boxes of chocolates and some fluffy toys. The fat man held up one of the fluffy toys – a panda. ‘Isn’t that cute?’ he said. His voice had a faint transatlantic burr. ‘I think they are really cuddly,’ he said. ‘I have one in the car. The kids play with it all the time.’
I tried to muster the appropriate amount of enthusiasm. I said it would look nice on my dressing table.
‘On the bed,’ he said. ‘Put your nightdress under it, ready in case of fire.’ He laughed. Then he whispered to the cigarette girl.
‘Are you in the entertainment business?’ the fat man asked Silas.
‘I’m in mining,’ said Silas. ‘Amalgamated Minerals, that’s my line of country. I’m the President of the U.K. subsidiary.’
It was typical of Silas to revert to his previous success. By now guns from Magazaria was ancient history, almost erased from his memory.
‘Fascinating,’ said the fat man. ‘I’ve often been advised to put all my money into mining.’
‘I wouldn’t go so far as to say that,’ said Silas cautiously. ‘No, I certainly wouldn’t. A fortune is easily lost if you aren’t well advised.’
‘Like jade,’ said the fat man. ‘I bought fourteen thousand pounds’ worth of jade last September. Half of it was worthless. They say it’s the most difficult thing in the world to judge the value of jade.’
‘Well, mining is like that,’ said Silas. This time Silas ordered drinks. Then the cigarette girl came back staggering under the weight of two of the most ridiculous looking fluffy toys that I’ve ever seen. One was a panda and the other a rabbit, each was over four feet tall, and I’m telling you they were awful. Since the fat man owned the place, what could I do, but say they were gorgeous.
‘Put them on your bed,’ said the fat man.
‘I couldn’t accept them,’ I protested.
‘I insist.’
‘Thank you,’ I said finally and deposited them gently on the floor where they stood almost as tall as the bar top, like a couple of children waiting to be taken home.
‘It’s been nice talking to you,’ said the fat man. ‘Are you coming in again this week?’
‘I might come in tomorrow,’ said Silas.
‘Eric Friendly is my name. Friendly by name, friendly by nature. My friends call me Lucky Eric.’
‘Are you lucky?’ I asked him, after all, he had bought me those awful toys.
‘My friends say I am,’ said the fat man. He tugged on the ends of his bow tie very hard as though trying to choke himself. He released his grip and then smiled with relief.
‘My friends say anyone as simple as me is lucky to stay solvent.’ He laughed and slapped Silas on the arm with glee. ‘Ask for me here at the bar any time. If I’m upstairs in my private office I’ll come right down.’
‘Right ho,’ said Silas.
‘Thanks for coming,’ said the fat man. ‘Don’t forget your toys.’
‘No, I won’t,’ I said. I picked them up and gave them to Silas. Silas gave a sickly little smile as we walked out through the bar with everyone looking at him.
When we collected our coats Silas said to the doorman, ‘That chap at the bar, Bert, is he a new member?’
‘Yes, Colonel, he joined a couple of months ago.’
‘Talks like he owned the place.’
‘Some new members get like that sir.’
‘What do you know about him?’ Silas asked.
‘Well sir,’ said the doorman. ‘We’ve known each other a long time sir, if you don’t mind me reminding you.’ He paused deciding how to go on. ‘And he’s not the sort of feller a gentleman like you should play cards with, if you take my meaning, Colonel Lowther.’
Silas pushed a tightly wadded pound note into his hand, and said, ‘I do indeed Bert. I do indeed.’
Bert the doorman put the toys into the car alongside the chauffeur, and saluted us. Silas said to me, ‘Lucky Eric, eh? Cheap little gas meter bandit.’
‘How can you be sure?’ I asked Silas.
‘I can smell them,’ said Silas. ‘And do you know something, some people with a sharp nose, detect a similar odour on me? There but for the grace …’
‘Oh no, darling,’ I said. Silas shrugged and for a moment or two was silent.
‘The Chester,’ Silas called to the chauffeur and his sleek black Rolls slid gently through the night.
I touched Silas’s arm and he leaned over to kiss me on the face. ‘Happy?’ he asked.
‘Wonderfully,’ I said. We came past St James’s Palace to turn into Piccadilly. There were no sentries there but some of the tiny windows were lit up. I tried to imagine what it would be like inside the palace rooms. The streets were wet and the rain continued to fall as light as a mist. Two policemen were standing under the portico of the Ritz watching a well-dressed drunk stealing an oil lamp from the road works. He picked it up carefully, so that the draught would not blow out the flame, he carried it high to light his way. The policemen didn’t move. They didn’t have to, a few more steps and the man would be on top of them. The traffic lights changed and our Rolls moved smoothly forward, I tried to see through the dark blue glass but the story had no end. So many stories have no end.
I’d had too many whisky sours. I leaned back on the seat and saw Silas glamoured up and slightly out of focus. His hair was disarranged and chin was dimpled the way I had noticed it the time I’d first met him when I was not much more than a child.
‘I wish we weren’t … what we are Silas.’
Silas laughed. ‘So does everyone,’ he said.
‘I mean I wish we had never pulled any con trick on anyone ever.’
‘Perhaps you do now,’ said Silas, ‘but what about tomorrow, when you wake up sober and cold and without enough money to pay the rent?’
‘Perhaps I still would then,’ I said.
‘Look, caterpillar,’ said Silas. ‘I’ve been around a long, long time, and one thing I’ll tell you true; there isn’t a man, woman or child in this world who can say they have never conned someone out of something. Babies smile for a hug, girls for a mink, men for an empire. No one, I promise you; no one, caterpillar.’ He took my hand. His hand was cold and hard.
‘Do you ever feel Silas,’ I asked, ‘that it would be nice to have a home? Somewhere to go back to. Somewhere other than a hotel room. Somewhere we could leave things that we weren’t using?’ I tried to make the suggestion sound practical and my enquiry without motive.
‘A base you mean?’ said Silas.
‘Yes a base.’
‘No caterpillar. I never do. Never. I’m a wanderer, always have been. I fear I’ll never change now.’ He kissed me again. ‘Why, do you feel that you’d be happier if we had a base?’
‘Never,’ I said. ‘Certainly not. I’m a wanderer too, remember. I’ll never settle down in one place. I’d hate it.’ Silas patted me affectionately. ‘Lucky Eric,’ said Silas scornfully.
12
Bob
Spider Cohen came back into my room about half an hour after Silas had tipsy-toed out. ‘Hello Spider,’ I said.
‘I’ve got iced water and surgical spirit. You want to get a cold wet rag on those marks or you’ll be looking a right mess of G.B.H.’
I took the bowl of water and ice and wrung the cloth out before plastering it across my face. ‘That’s the way to do it sir,’ he said.
‘Cut out the sir, Spider,’ I said. ‘You remember me from the Scrubs don’t you? I was in B Block when you were a red band.’
‘I remember all right. Being in nick’s not so simple to forget is it? I didn’t want to embarrass you, that’s all.’
‘You mean with Liz and my boss; Silas Lowther? He’s a nob, a Brigadier in the tanks. Good bloke.’
‘Yeah. Well that’s nice Bob.’
‘Oh Christ I’m sorry Spider. I wouldn’t do it on you mate. Really I wouldn’t. He’s my opposite number … you know, we work together. He’s the world’s oldest juvenile delinquent.’ I laughed.
‘I know Bob. I had it sussed when you first checked in. You are a really high class con now. Really high class.’
‘It’s that obvious eh?’
‘You get good at spotting the scene working here.’
‘Yeah, I suppose so.’
‘Has your guvnor got any form?’
‘Silas, in the nick? Give over mate. He’s a real gent. Harrow, Oxford, Royal Armoured Corps, Alamein, D Day, the lot.’
‘How did he get on to this game then?’
‘Fiddling in the army. He was in Germany in 1945. Made a bomb of money. When he got demobbed, he couldn’t get used to being without the luxuries.’
‘Well, looks like he hasn’t had to get used to doing without them. That bird of his is really a dish.’
‘You’re right there,’ I said.
‘You’ve done well too, Bob. Are you happy with the way it’s gone?’
‘Right up until this smack in the kisser,’ I said. ‘But it’s a mug’s game really. I’ve enjoyed it up until now but I’ve known for a long time that it has to come to an end. It’s O.K. for Silas, but I want to do something more positive, something a bit more worthwhile. Do you know what I mean Spider?’
‘The grass always grows greener on the other side of the fence mate,’ Spider said. ‘Have a mouthful of this.’ He pulled a hipflask out of his pocket and wiped the top before passing it to me. He still hadn’t lost the furtive manner of the Scrubs days. I said, ‘There’s some booze next door.’
‘Have mine,’ said Spider.
‘O.K.,’ I said, and drank.
‘Good stuff eh? The wine waiter is a mate of mine. I’ve got good friends Bob.’
I drank some more. I said, ‘Did they give you a remission?’
‘Three years, all but four days, I did,’ he said. ‘And I ain’t never going back.’
‘What’s that mean?’ I said. ‘Villains say that when they are facing half a dozen coppers with a loaded machine gun in their hand.’
‘I’m straight. Dead straight. I work hard, I live on my wages and my brother-in-law is a copper.’
‘Get away.’
‘It’s true, as true as I’m standing here. My brother-in-law is practically a copper; he’s a screw.’
I laughed. He said, ‘Remember my sister Ethel. Nice little kid, blonde; long straight hair, good looker.’
‘Everybody remembers her. She came to see you every week. The only good looking bird that ever came into that nick.’
‘Right. Well she comes in to see me every chance she gets, doesn’t she. She brings me snout and sweets, and sometimes a cake from Mum. Lovely kid, and it’s a long way for her to come, Balham. Never misses, and she’s all for me, all for me. You know, when Mum is sitting there and saying “take your punishment Sydney …”’
‘Is that your name, Sydney?’ I said.
‘Yeah. Well, when she’s saying that, little Ethel is saying “don’t go on at him”, and she went round to Charlie Barrett, who I worked for, made him promise to give me my job back, when I came out of prison. She was a real angel. I’m not kidding Bob, she was great, that kid. Well, anyway she even chats up one of the screws and talks him into giving me messages on the weekends when she hasn’t got a visit. Then she gets him to give me some fags that she’d bought for me, so you can guess what happened.’
‘No kidding?’
‘Yeah. He meets her outside to get the fags and messages, then one day he comes up to me and says, “I’m going around with your sister.” I could have sloshed him, nearly did in fact. “Steady Spider,” he says, “We’re serious,” he says, “we love each other.” “Get out of it” I said. “I don’t want my sister marrying no screw.” But you know something; he’s all right.’
‘I believe you,’ I said unenthusiastically.
