Pure as the Lily (19 page)

Christmas, come and live with us? “ He should practise what he preached, shouldn’t he?

There were very few stalls in the Market but the place seemed thronged with people coming from King Street and from the direction of the ferry, or making their way back and forth across the square. And there was a deal of traffic about, military stuff most of it. Yet it added to that feeling of excitement that was in the air. Yes, it was a good fable, Christmas.

He stopped. The Salvation Army had started to play. Good old Salvation Army. You couldn’t beat the Salvation Army. No going to church for them in their best clothes; and no hiding their talents in the ground either. They did good, did the Salvation Army.

“Away in a manger.” He started to hum to himself:

Away in a manger, No crib for a bed. “

Suddenly he felt cold and shivery, and very much alone. He wished the baims could have come with him; they would have kept him laughing.

He went down East Street, looked about him to see if the coast was clear, whipped the bottle out of his pocket and, putting it to his mouth, drank half of it.

He shuddered as he felt it burning down his long length. That was better. Oh yes, that was better. He’d walk round the Market and over towards the Salvation Army; then he’d make his way home. He’d walk back to Jarrow. As Mary said it would clear his head. He laughed to himself; it would need more clearing now than ever.

When he drew near the Salvation Army he found a crowd gathered in front of them. It was a mixture, two or three soldiers, a few airmen, some sailors tight as drums they were lucky, they got a navy radon as well some young lads and lasses, a few A. T. S. “ and families with children..

He came to a stop near two girls in khaki uniforms. They were singing and they glanced at him as much to say, “Well, it’s Christmas.” He smiled back at them, and as he inclined his head down to them he picked up the words: “The little Lord Jesus lay down his sweet head.” His voice caused the girls to stop singing for a moment and laugh, and their laughter turned into giggles when, high above the rest, his voice soared.

“The stars in the bright sky looked down where he lay.” They were still laughing when they joined their voices to his, and when he put his arm through that of the girl nearer to him and interrupted his singing to nod towards the other, at the same time putting in quickly, “Link up,” the girl, choking with her laughter, did as he bade her, and linked her arm with that of her companion.

The band hardly paused before going into “The First Noel’. The crowd had now grown to almost twice its size by people stopping in their walk across the Market, and most of them had joined in the singing.

From the advantage of his height Jimmy looked over the crowd and for a moment he felt a power running through him. It was as if he had created this scene; he felt that he had brought all these people together . goodwill to men. In this moment he experienced a feeling of joy. He was so warm and happy inside, he wanted to express it in some gesture, such as waving his arms about.

The winter twilight was deepening. Although it was a heavy grey twilight the faces all about him seemed to be illuminated from within. And then there came the first flakes of snow.

To the cries of “Oh!” and “Aw!” and “Here it comes!” the faces were upturned towards the falling flakes.

The band played louder; they knew that they had the crowd with them.

Two of their members were smilingly pushing themselves through the throng, shaking tambourines while waiting for hands to be withdrawn from bags and pockets. The response was better than they’d had all day; they put it down to the love of God.

Now the band was playing “I wish you a Merry Christmas,

I wish you a Merry Christinas, I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. “ The girl in khaki turned her face up to Jimmy and sang it to him, and Jimmy, bending his head down to her, still with his arm in hers, sang it back to her; and then everyone around seemed to be singing it to his neighbour. It was one of these moments that can happen in war time and at no other.

Whether it was the girl who started it, or he, he never remembered, but he did remember that when they pushed him forward as their leader, he was gratified that this was so. The girl grabbed his waist from behind, then her friend did the same with her, and from then on a chain formed as fast as a piece of petrol-soaked rope burns.

Everyone was singing. What matter if, at the head of the crocodile, it was “I wish you a Merry Christmas’, while further along it was, “ Away in a Manger’, and further still “Knees up Mother Brown’

with the tail end, “ We’ll meet again’?

When Jimmy led the way behind the band in a sort of rumba step dictated by the pressure of the girl’s hands on his hips, one of the Salvation Army men laughed at him and cried, “Are you happy, brother?” And he shouted back, AYes, indeed; I’m happy, brother. “ And the girls behind took it up and yelled, “ Are you happy, brother? We’ve got them on the run. Are you happy, brother? We’ve got them on the run. Germany here we come! Are you happy, brother? “

He came to the road leading down to the ferry, and his reaction was to stop at the kerb, but the girls behind pushed him on, yelling now, “Stop for nothing, brother! Stop for nothing, brother! Look out, Adolf, we’re on the way!”

As he went to cross the road there was a shrieking of brakes when a lorry pulled up sharply, and two soldiers, sitting in the cab, grinned down on them and shook their heads.

When he led them across the end of the road leading down from the Mill Dam bank into the Market there was another shrieking of brakes, t’T’s time from a line of vehicles making their way out of the market and towards the bank. But this time there were no smiling faces grinning at them from the cabs; instead curses rained on them.

The crocodile was vast now, pushing them forward; the noise was deafening, the tooting of motor horns and angry cries competing with the confused singing. The whole market place was not only crowded with people but with a jumble of cars.

A policeman appeared from the direction of Kepple Street, where the main police station was, then another and another; but even the sight of their uniform had no power to break up the crocodile or stop the crowd having ‘a bit carryon’. It was a long time since anybody had had a bit carryon in the open air like this; everybody was making the best of it while the light lasted.

The policemen were reinforced. They snapped the crocodile in several places; and then they came to the head of it.

“Come on! Come on! Break it up you! Break it up!” They were yelling at the tall, scarlet-faced, laughing young man.

What? Oh aye! Yes, yes of course. “

As if coming out of a dream Jimmy looked from one to the other of the policemen. And that would have been that. He would have broken away from the crocodile, he would have wished them a happy Christmas and walked quietly off up the bank and towards home. But the chain behind him suddenly disintegrated into a crowd which surrounded him and the policemen, and the two A. T. S. girls shouted, for no reason that he could see, “Leave him alone! Leave him alone! What harm is he doing?

We were only having a bit of fun. Little enough we get. It’s Christmas Eve. Perhaps you’ve forgotten, it’s Christmas Eve. “

“Break it up! Break it up! Get going!” The policeman began pushing.

One of them pushed at Jimmy with the flat of his hand so hard that he staggered and would have fallen but for the support from behind, and this angered him.

He became brave with the warmth of the whisky inside

I wish you a Merry Christmas, I wish you a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. “ The girl in khaki turned her face up to Jimmy and sang it to him, and Jimmy, bending his head down to her, still with his arm in hers, sang it back to her; and then everyone around seemed to be singing it to his neighbour. It was one of these moments that can happen in war time and at no other.

Whether it was the girl who started it, or he, he never remembered, but he did remember that when they pushed him forward as their leader, he was gratified that this was so. The girl grabbed his waist from behind, then her friend did the same with her, and from then on a chain formed as fast as a piece of petrol-soaked rope burns.

Everyone was singing. What matter if, at the head of the crocodile, it was “I wish you a Merry Christmas’, while further along it was, “ Away in a Manger’, and further still “Knees up Mother Brown’

with the tail end, “ We’ll meet again’?

When Jimmy led the way behind the band in a sort of rumba step dictated by the pressure of the girl’s hands on his hips, one of the Salvation Army men laughed at him and cried, “Are you happy, brother?” And he shouted back, “Yes, indeed; I’m happy, brother.” And the girls behind took it up and yelled,

“Are you happy, brother? We’ve got them on the run. Are you happy, brother? We’ve got them on the run. Germany here we come! Are you happy, brother?”

He came to the road leading down to the ferry, and his reaction was to stop at the kerb, but the girls behind pushed him on, yelling now, “Stop for nothing, brother! Stop for nothing, brother! Look out, Adolf, we’re on the way!”

As he went to cross the road there was a shrieking of brakes when a lorry pulled up sharply, and two soldiers, sit ting in the cab, grinned down on them and shook their heads.

When he led them across the end of the road leading down from the Mill Dam bank into the Market there was another shrieking of brakes, this

time from a line of vehicles 148 making their way out of the market and towards the bank. But this time there were no smiling faces grinning at them from the cabs; instead curses rained on them.

The crocodile was vast now, pushing them forward; the noise was deafening, the tooting of motor horns and angry cries competing with the confused singing. The whole market place was not only crowded with people but with a jumble of cars.

A policeman appeared from the direction of Kepple Street, where the main police station was, then another and another; but even the sight of their uniform had no power to break up the crocodile or stop the crowd having ‘a bit carryon’. It was a long time since anybody had had a bit carryon in the open air like this; everybody was making the best of it while the light lasted.

The policemen were reinforced. They snapped the crocodile in several places; and then they came to the head of it.

“Come on! Come on! Break it up you! Break it up!” They were yelling at the tall, scarlet-faced, laughing young man.

What? Oh aye! Yes, yes of course. “

As if coming out of a dream Jimmy looked from one to the other of the policemen. And that would have been that. He would have broken away from the crocodile, he would have wished them a happy Christmas and walked quietly off up the bank and towards home. But the chain behind him suddenly disintegrated into a crowd which surrounded him and the policemen, and the two A. T. S. girls shouted, for no reason that he could see, “Leave him alone! Leave him alone! What harm is he doing?

We were only having a bit of fun. Little enough we get. It’s Christmas Eve. Perhaps you’ve forgotten, it’s Christmas Eve. “

“Break it up! Break it up! Get going!” The policeman began pushing.

One of them pushed at Jimmy with the flat of his hand so hard that he staggered and would have fallen but for the support from behind, and this angered him.

He became brave with the warmth of the whisky inside

him. There was no need for this kind of thing.

“Now look,” he said.

“What-d’you-mean?”

The policeman had no time to tell him what he meant for he was trying to prevent his helmet from being knocked off;

but he was just a fraction too late and when he bent to retrieve it someone placed a boot on his buttocks and sent him sprawling.

It was amazing how quickly the crowd divided to let the policeman fall. Now the other policeman was laying about him, and as if they had been conjured up out of the snow—filled air there appeared more policemen, six of them.

When two of them gripped Jimmy by the arms and pushed him through the crowd, which parted now almost docilely, he struggled as he cried, “Look! you’ve made a mistake. Let go of me, man, do you hear? I’ve done nothing, an’ you don’t know who I am.”

“There’s plenty of time to tell us, mate.”

As they dragged him along Barrington Street towards the Police Station the two girls followed, shouting,

“He was just singing carols, that’s all, he was just singing carols. You must be short of a job.” And one policeman turned and called back, “If you don’t get away this minute I’ll have another JOB of taking you in an’ all.”

When they bundled him into the Police Station the joy and gladness that had so lately filled him was replaced by a deep fear: he was being locked up like his da. God in heaven! he was being locked up.

He now tried to explain to the policeman, he used his most persuasive manner.

“Look, sir, I was only singing carols.”

“All in good time,” said the policeman from behind the counter.

“You’ll have plenty of time to explain.”

That was all they could say, he would have plenty of time to explain.

What were they going to do with him? No, no, surely not; they couldn’t be going to put him in a cell.

Why, he had only been singing carols and leading a crocodile. After all, it was Christmas Eve.

When he was taken to another room he said as much to an officer who sat behind a desk writing things down, and when the policeman who was standing to his side began speaking he gaped at him, for he was saying, TDrunk and disorderly. Holding up traffic and obstructing the police in the course of their duty. “ He now cried at him, “I did no such thing! I never obstructed you; you pushed me and I never raised my hand to you. As for be ... being drunk, you’ll have to prove that, that’s libel.” The policeman by his side was now looking towards Jimmy’s coat pocket, and the one at the desk, following the look, said, “Would you mind removing your overcoat, sir?”