In Pursuit of the English - Doris Lessing [69]
‘Don’t you be too sure.’
‘He’s a kid. But I’ve learned a thing or two from this book. She got diamonds and mink coats all right, but no ring, not until she played him up proper.’
Rose descended thoughtfully to the basement. A few minutes later there were yells and raucous laughter from Flo. Rose ran upstairs, chased by Jack.
‘Go on,’ he said, ‘what’re you scared of?’
‘Think I’d go to bed with a kid like you?’
‘Then why were you kissing and hugging me just now?’
Rose slammed the door. He swore. A few minutes later he scratched softly on my door and came in, ‘Lend me some money,’ he said in an offhand way, not from rudeness but because he was hardly aware I existed. He took a pound, thanked me perfunctorily and crept out, his terrified little-boy eyes fixed on the door where his stepfather might emerge.
Rose came in, ‘Flo’ll tell Dickie,’ she said, ‘so that’s all right.’
‘Not if she tells him the truth.’
Rose giggled. ‘Dan’ll be mad now. He always goes on and on about never having paid a woman yet, as an example to Jack, so as to keep down the cost of living.’
Next day Jack and Rose would not speak to each other, Flo watched the aloof faces with an appreciative grin. She kept winking at me and at Dan, and when Dan did not respond, raised her eyes and shrugged at the ceiling. She had not yet realized that Dan was really angry, particularly because she had taken her son aside and made him tell her the details of his night’s adventures. ‘Children have got to grow up,’ she kept saying, but Dan scowled and moved his feet under the table like a bull pawing at the earth. He sat in grim silence, his great powerful arms resting on the white cloth, and his heavy head turned to watch his wife, who flitted as usual at the stove end of the room, looking like a shaggy little dog with her bright inquisitive eyes under the tangle of hair. When he looked at Jack he was murderous. But Jack apparently did not notice, or pretended not to; he was glistening with triumph, taunting Rose, saying with an aggressive but pleased laugh: ‘Who’s a kid now?’
At last Rose, who had been quiet and listless, said: ‘I’m going out to get some fresh air.’ She went out without looking at Jack. Flo ran after her and kissed her with a simple affection rare in her and said: ‘Rose, don’t take on so about everything. You take everything so serious.’
‘I’m going to the pictures,’ said Jack. It was much too late for the pictures and Dan raised his head loweringly to ask: ‘And who’s paying?’
Jack said: ‘She lent me a pound.’
‘Who, Rose?’
Jack looked at me and laughed.
‘More fool you,’ said Dan to me. And to Jack: ‘If you do that again, you know what’ll you get.’
‘You’re not my father,’ said Jack, defying him.
Dan got up and slammed out of the basement. ‘I’ll kill the pair of you yet,’ he said.
Flo began to cry. ‘Oh, my God, he’s gone, he’s left me, and it’s your fault,’ she said to Jack.
‘We’ll do all right without him,’ said Jack.
‘My God,’ said Flo, ‘My God. And I’ll kill you if you upset him again.’
Later Jack came to knock on my door for some more money. I refused. He had expected this, and now knocked on Rose’s door.
‘Get away,’ came her muffled voice: she was crying.
‘Lend me a pound,’ said Jack, shaking with triumphant laughter.
‘Go and hang yourself.’
Next morning Flo was so angry she smashed a cup on the draining-board setting it down. ‘That kid. Last night he pretended to go to bed as usual, then he took my coal money and went out. I’ll give him women. But don’t tell Dan, darling. Please don’t. He’ll