The Laying on of Hands - Alan Bennett [31]
Then he said something I couldn’t hear because his face was pressed into the carpet. ‘What was that, Mr Dunderdale?’ ‘I said, “Excellent,” Miss Fozzard. You may move about a little if you would care to.’ I said, ‘I’m anxious not to hurt you, Mr Dunderdale.’ He said, ‘Have no fears on that score, Miss Fozzard. Trample away.’ I said, ‘I feel like one of those French peasants treading the grapes.’ He said, ‘Yes. Yes, yes.’ I said, ‘Do you feel the benefit?’ He said, ‘Yes, yes, I do. Thank you. If you don’t mind, Miss Fozzard I’ll just lie here for a little while. Perhaps you could see yourself out.’
So I just left him on the hearthrug.
When I got back Bernard is sitting on the sofa with Miss Molloy, both of them looking a bit red in the face. ‘We were just laughing,’ Miss Molloy says, ‘because Bernard couldn’t think of a word.’ ‘Well,’ I said, ‘he must learn to skirt round it.’ ‘Oh, he did that all right,’ she said. ‘You’re an expert at that, aren’t you Bernard?’ And they both burst out laughing.
Mr Clarkson-Hall’s very pleased with him. Says he’s never known a recovery so quick. Says he didn’t have the privilege of knowing Bernard before but he imagines he’s now quite like his old self. I said, ‘Yes. He is.’
After Miss Molloy had gone he comes in here while I’m having my hot drink and says he’s thinking of opening the kiosk again and that Mallory is going to help him. I said, ‘Does Miss Molloy have any experience of sweets and tobacco?’ He said, ‘No, but she’s a fun-loving girl with a welcoming whatever it’s called and that’s half the battle.’
Note from Mr Dunderdale this morning saying his back is much better and that he was looking forward to seeing me next week.
Estelle suffers in the back department, the legacy from once having had to wield a spare pike at the Battle of Naseby. So I was telling her all about me helping Mr Dunderdale with his, only she wasn’t grateful. Just giggles and says, ‘Ooh, still waters!’
Floor coverings, they ought to have somebody more mature. She really belongs in Cosmetics.
I DON’T KNOW what’s got into people at work. I come in this morning and the commissionaire with the moustache who’s on the staff door says, ‘Have a good day, my duck.’ I said, ‘You may only have one arm, Mr Capstick, but that doesn’t entitle you to pat me on the bottom.’ Next thing is I’m invoicing some loose covers in Despatch when one of the work experience youths who can’t be more than sixteen gives me a silly wink.
I said to Estelle, ‘My Viyella two-piece doesn’t normally have this effect.’ She said, ‘Well they’re just wanting to be friendly.’ I said, ‘Friendly? Estelle, I may not be a feminist (though I did spearhead the provision of pot-pourri in the ladies toilets) but people are not going to pat my bottom with impunity.’ Estelle says, ‘No. The boot’s on the other foot,’ and starts giggling. I said to Joy Poyser, ‘How ever she manages to interest anyone in serious vinyl flooring I do not understand.’
House dark when I got in. I imagine they’re in the sitting room, the pair of them only I call out and there’s no sound. So I get my tea and read the Evening Post, nice to have the place to myself for a change.
Then I go into the sitting room and there’s Bernard sitting there in the dark. I put the light on and he’s got the atlas open. I said, ‘What are you doing in the dark?’ He said, ‘Looking up the Maldive Islands.’ ‘Why,’ I said, ‘you’re not going on holiday?’ He said, ‘No, I’m not. How can I go on bloody holiday? What with?’ And he shoves a bank statement at me.
I’ve a feeling he’s been crying and I’m not sure where to put myself so I go put the kettle on while I look at his statement. There’s practically nothing in it, money taken out nearly every day. I said, ‘What’s this?’ He said, ‘It’s that tart from Hobart.’ I said, ‘Miss Molloy? But she’s a qualified physiotherapist.’ He said, ‘Yes and she’s something else … she’s a—what do you call it—female dog.’
I said, ‘Did you sign these cheques?’ He said, ‘Of course I