Lanark_ a life in 4 books - Alasdair Gray [126]
Her interest delighted him. He said, “No, I didn’t try to paint unpleasant people. After all, Christ picked his disciples at random, like a jury, so they must have been an ordinary representative lot. I may have drawn them grotesque. Not many of us are as we should be, even in our own estimations, so how can we help being grotesque? But we aren’t often unpleasant.” Judy said, “Draw a portrait of me Duncan, here, on the tabletop.” She kept her head still while Thaw scribbled on the formica surface. He said, “I’ve finished, but it’s not a success.” Judy said, “You see, you’ve made me look evil. You’ve shown my bad qualities.”
Thaw looked at the drawing. He thought he had only shown the shape of her face, and not well. She said, “I know I have more bad qualities than good….” He started to protest but she said, “Look at Kenneth!”
Thaw looked across at McAlpin who had put his head back to laugh at a joke. He had grown a beard over the holidays and the gold spire of it wagged at the ceiling. Judy said, “Kenneth has no bad qualities. If he hurt anyone it would be from stupidity, not deliberately.”
“He’s a gentleman,” said Thaw. “It’s civilizing to know him.”
In the tramcar that evening he felt unusually conscious of his appearance: the paint-stained trousers like a labourer’s below the waist, the collar and tie like an office worker above. Passing the park someone plucked at his sleeve. He turned and saw a plump pretty girl who said, “Hullo there. How are you doing?”
“Fine thanks. And yourself?”
“Not too bad. D’ye live out here?”
“Aye. Opposite the chapel.”
“I’m visiting my auntie. I’ll be seeing you.”
She went downstairs and Thaw wondered who she could be. Suddenly he realized she was Big June Haig who had been to Whitehill School. He went downstairs and stood beside her on the platform. She said, “Oh, there you are.”
“I usually get off farther up the hill,” said Thaw, as if explaining something.
“Your house faces the Chapel?”
The tram halted and they got off.
“No, it’s in the street which runs into the road just opposite the Chapel.”
He stood still, describing this geography with his hands. She gripped his lapel and drew him onto the pavement out of the path of a lorry, saying, “I don’t want to be held as a witness to a road accident.”
“Where are you working just now?”
“Brown’s. I’m a waitress in the dining room.”
“Oh I go there sometimes, but downstairs to the smokeroom.” Thaw described his eating habits in detail and she seemed to listen intently. He showed her the photograph in the paper and she was less impressed than he expected. There were gaps in the conversation in which he expected her to say cheerio, but she stayed quiet until he thought of something new to say. He said, “I’ll walk you to your auntie’s house,” and they set off side by side. June moved with chin held up and vivid mouth set haughtily as if disdaining herds of admirers, and Thaw’s heart thumped hard against his ribs. They turned some corners and stopped at a close. June explained that she visited her aunt twice a week; the aunt was an old lady who had recently had an operation. Thaw made an unsubtle reference to her unselfishness. There was another silence. He said desperately, “Look, could I meet you sometime?”
“Oh sure.”
“Where do you live nowadays?”
“Langside, near the monument.”
“Hm … Where will we meet?”
After a pause she suggested Paisley’s corner near Jamaica Street Bridge.
“Good!” said Thaw firmly, then added, “But we haven’t fixed the night or the hour have we?”
June said, “No. We haven’t.”
After some silence she suggested Thursday night at seven o’clock.
“Good!” said Thaw firmly again. “I’ll see you then.”
“Yes.”
“Well … cheerio.”
“Cheerio, Duncan.”
That night Thaw kept stopping work to walk up and down the living room, chuckling and singing. Mr. Thaw said, “What’s got into ye? Did a lassie look at ye sideways?”
“My painting aroused a certain interest.”
Next morning Thaw told McAlpin about June as they sat in the school library. McAlpin studied the page of a glossy magazine, then said, “Does