In Pursuit of the English - Doris Lessing [92]
Back in the basement Dan unloaded bottles of beer all over the table. Flo shed bits of thick black off her in all directions until she arrived at the comfort of an apron. Dan ripped off jacket and shirt, loosened his trousers, and let his singlet hang loose.
‘I can’t really believe it,’ said Flo. ‘Getting our own house to ourselves at last.’
Dan gave his bared-teeth smile; the heavy forearms resting on the table before him were taut with muscle; Rose nodded towards him and whispered to me. ‘Look, Dan’s already imagining how he’ll get his hands on to that flat and do it up.’ Dan heard her; looked up, and nodded at us. At that moment he was not even thinking of the money. ‘It’s like this,’ he said, frowning because of his deep disbelief in his power to communicate: ‘I go into a dirty room, it’s all dirty …’ His eyes moved from side to side, disliking what they saw. ‘And then …’ his hands clenched and opened out again, waiting: ‘I can make it all like new. See?’
Flo laughed, and said to us, full of pride: ‘It’s nice to watch him, I like that, you’d never believe a place could be nice when he starts, and then it is.’ She drank gulps of beer and said: ‘I feel so happy, I don’t know what to do.’ She nodded towards Jack and said: ‘Look at Jack, he’s happy, too.’ Jack, already back in his singlet and running shorts, was trip-stepping about the kitchen, humming, with a puppy in his arms.
Dan turned his head sharply to look, his fists clenched up again, this time in irritation, but he said nothing for the time.
‘Yes,’ went on Flo, not noticing Rose’s steadily critical look at her: ‘And just think, two years ago, we had six hundred pounds between us horn the war, and this old house, just ruins it was, and now the old people are going we could sell it any time, for three thousand, four thousand, it makes you think.’
Jack let out a little yelp of delight, did some fancy kicks, and began to sing ‘The best things in life are free.’
‘Yes,’ said Dan. ‘And no thanks to some people who are going to benefit.’
Jack gave him a dubious, scared glance, smiled in appeal at him, and danced the faster.
‘Ah, the poor old things,’ said Flo. ‘I wonder where they’ll go now.’
‘For crying out aloud,’ said Rose in disgust.
‘Funny, isn’t it?’ said Flo. ‘I never really saw them before, not like that, to look at steady. When I saw them in that Court I felt sorry for them, I did really.’
Rose grimaced at me, and raised her eyes.
‘They’ve got four kids,’ said Dan. ‘She let it out once. Three grown-up sons and a daughter.’
‘Well, it’s all right, then,’ said Flo, ‘they’ll have a home.’
‘Except that they haven’t seen their kids since before the war,’ commented Rose.
‘No sense depending on your kids,’ said Dan, looking at Jack.
Jack was scared now, and he stopped dancing, and sat quietly by himself on a chair by the sink.
The bell rang, and Flo went up to answer it. While she was away. Dan stared steadily at his stepson, trying to force him to raise his eyes and face him. But Jack pretended to be unaware; he played with a puppy at his feet, keeping his head down.
Flo came back, and stood in the door, wiping her hands unconsciously, over and over, on her apron, and her mouth was open.
‘What’s up?’ said Rose.
‘It’s the Welfare. From the Court. There’s a lady and a man and they’ve got a sort of ambulance. They’re taking away the old people to a Home. They say they’re not fit to look after themselves. Well, why couldn’t they have said it before, that’s what I want to know, instead of making us miserable and costing us ail that money.’
‘What sort of a Home?’ asked Rose.
‘How should I know, dear?’ She was looking up at the ceiling, to avoid Rose’s challenge. ‘Well, it won’t take them long to pack – nothing but a fistful of rags between the two of them.’ Over our heads were heavy and purposeful footsteps, and the sound of a high steady whimpering.
‘It wouldn’t be a lunatic asylum,’ enquired Rose steadily. ‘We know what them places are like, don’t we?’
‘But better off there,’ said Flo hastily, smiling in terrified