The Watchers on the Shore (10 page)

'Well, the solution's in your hands,'I say.

I feel her begin to shake, her body close to mine, and for a second
I think she's crying. Then I realize she's laughing, giggling fit to
burst. And I wonder why I don't make her laugh more often.

The next day she capitulates. It's up to me, she says. I'm the one who earns the main living and one day I'll have to earn it all. So I can make the decision. If I want to go all that badly she won't stand in my way. But I can't expect her to be happy about it. Not yet. We shall have to wait and see. And contrariwise, now the way's open, I'm more undecided than ever. I had to put up the arguments for it to Ingrid and make her think I was keener than I really am. But I hadn't decided. I still had the feelings I had on the bus. Why not stay where I know my way around?

It's my mother who does decide me. She comes her usual wet-
blanket act when I tell her, doing what she's always done when
there's a smell of change or something new in the air, and using all Ingrid's arguments and a few of
my
own on me again. It's got
nothing to do with her, of course. Oh no. She doesn't want to influence me. I'm old enough to know my own mind. But...

And then I know why I
have
to go: to get out, once and for all, of this dead, dreary, do-as-you've-always-done atmosphere to somewhere where I can stand on my own two feet in some good free air. I want to escape and it would have been better if I'd done it years ago, before I met Ingrid. Am I saying I wish I'd never met her? In a way I suppose I am. It's not that I don't like being married to her now. I've settled down to it in a way. It's not a bad life. Better than being at home. And I'm fond of her. I could even say I love her in a way. Her life's tied up with mine and that's all there is to it. It wasn't the way I wanted it to happen but it's the way it did happen. And if I'd got it in the way I always wanted it, it might well have come to this by now. You can waste a lot of time brooding about happiness. Maybe it just means jogging along and doing your best and taking your pleasures as they come. And when you add up all those pleasures that's where your happiness is. No, it's all right -I don't believe it; but it's all most of us have got.

The Old Man's on my side. He doesn't say much in the house
but when I leave he comes out to the gate with me.

'Don't take any notice of your mother, Vic,'he says straight out. 'You weigh it all up for yourself then make up your own mind. You can't blame her, I suppose. There's Jim away at university and David after this job in Leicester. She just thinks she's losing all her family at once.'

'It's not just that, though, Dad. She's always full of sour grapes.
She just resists any sort of change.'

'That might be her age and upbringing, you know, lad. There's safety in what you know. When you've been through hard times
like your mother has you can't forget 'em. You've allus half a
feeling they're waiting round the corner again.'

'It
...
it just sometimes gets you round the throat and stifles you.'

'Well you break clear of it, lad. You've your own way to make
in t'world and there's nobody knows better than you what you
want. If you and Ingrid can agree about it there's nowt else
matters.'

The man from Fenwicks has fair, slightly wavy hair, prominent fish-eyes and not much chin. I'm stocktaking in the shop with the door locked when he appears against the glass and taps on it, his face floating up close like a trout in an aquarium. I go over and open the door, thinking he's just another to add to the number who can't read the notice stuck to the inside of the window: 'Closed due to bereavement.'

'I'm sorry, we're closed.'

'I know,'the chap says. 'I'm from Fenwicks. The bank said it was all right for me to come round.'

'Oh, come in, then.'

I let him by me and lock the door again.

'You'll be Mr Brown.'

'That's right.'

He sticks his hand out. 'My name's Harrap.'He moves up the shop, carrying a fat briefcase. 'Is it all right if I have a look round?'

'If the bank says so.'

'Yes, they do.'

"Then it's okay by me.'

'What are you doing?'

'Stocktaking.'

'I'll try not to get in your way.'

'That's all right. Anything I can do to help, just say so.'

He looks at some stuff on the floor at the end of the counter. 'Sheet music? Have you been selling this?'

'No, I found it tucked away upstairs. I thought of chucking it out but I expect it ought to be accounted for.'

He picks up the top sheet.'"Lily of Laguna". Good grief!'

I grin. 'There is some a bit more recent than that. It was Mr Van Huyten's main line at one time. That and pianos.'

Harrap looks round at me. 'You didn't find any pianos upstairs?'I shake my head. 'No, no pianos.'

'That's all right, then.'

He's a man of about thirty-five, medium height, nice build, dressed in a neatly cut brown suit with trouser bottoms just that
little bit too wide. He's from head office, he tells me, here to look the business over and put in a report to his bosses. With his easy
manner he gives the impression of knowing not all the answers but all he needs to know to get by. The rest he probably doesn't
bother about. I'm always interested in people who seem to have it
sorted out.

'Just records, television and radio, isn't it?'

'And a few electrical appliances.'

He nods.

'We did all right,'I say defensively.

He nods again. 'I know. I've seen the books ... The owner
hadn't been very active for some time, I understand.'

'No, he was an old man.'

'And you really ran the place.'

'I used to talk over most things with him, and he signed all the
cheques.'

He walks to the window and gazes into the street for a minute
before turning to look down the
length of the shop.

'It's a good position, and a nice roomy interior. A lot could be
done with it.'

'There were things I wanted to do, but Mr Van Huyten was too old for expansion and change.'

'You can't stand still these days,'Harrap says, 'not with the competition there is. You either go forward or slip back.'

'Unless you know your time's short anyway,'I say; 'then you don't care.'And for no new reason I'm suddenly full of bitterness and resentment, and anger with myself for not seeing that Mr Van Huyten was too far gone to plan for a business that would carry on in the same way after he was dead; a business that would perpetuate his name instead of becoming one more link in a growing chain. I'd have done it for him, and been proud to do it. But who'll ever know what went on in his head towards the end, or what changed between me coming to work for him and him losing his grip? Or even what he actually meant when he offered me the job with all kinds of hints about the future? Perhaps I should have seen the signs myself and put the cards on the table in time; told him straight the understanding I'd been working on. And perhaps a man like Harrap would tell me I should never have come in the beginning on such a half-baked pie-in-the-sky basis.

'What would you have done?'he's asking me now.

'Well, I'd have had this counter out for a start and a shorter one put in over there. It takes up too much floor space.'He nods. 'Then I'd have knocked the door to the stockroom out and made a showroom through an archway so's people could move about and see what we'd got.'

'Yes, I think those things would be an improvement.'

'Not that it takes a brilliant mind to think of them.'

'No, but...'

He goes off on another tack and starts asking me about myself until, after a few minutes, I have to stop him.

'You're not interviewing me, are you?'

He looks a bit taken aback at this straight question.

'No, it's my job to report on the business.'

'Well I don't go with it, y'know.'

'You'll be out of a job before long, though, won't you?'

'I've got another one.'

'Oh, well then...'

'I'm going back into engineering.'

'You know your own affairs best. But if you'd wanted to talk to somebody at head office I could fix it. And I can make recommendations.'

'They wouldn't let me keep the shop, would they?'

.'We usually promote from inside the organization.'

'And I'd either be working under somebody here or moved to
another shop.'

'There's plenty of chance of promotion.'

I shake my head. 'No. I had a special relationship with Mr Van
Huyten. It's the only reason I came.'

He seems to have taken a bit of a shine to me, I don't know why.
'Well think about it. You're the kind of man we want. I don't think you'd be just a shop assistant for long.'

For a second I'm tempted. No upheaval, no moving away, no adapting myself to the drawing board again. And it would suit
Ingrid.

'No, sorry. All my plans are made.'

'A pity.'He looks at his watch. 'I make it lunchtime. Where do you usually eat?'

'I have a sandwich round the corner.'

'Is there a place where they serve lunch?'

'There's the Dolphin in Bread Street. That's not bad.'

'Perhaps you'd like to join me. I think the expenses will run to it.'

'Okay, thanks very much.'

We get our coats and go out. It's market day and the streets are
very busy. We have to wait for a table so we have a pint in the bar
before going into the dining-room. I've only ever been in there
once before and I look round and locate the table where I sat with Ingrid's father, and remember bits of the conversation ...

-
I get the impression that you feel badly done to and have for some time. As though marriage itself was something that had been imposed on you.

- I've had a bellyful of being married.

- So now you're going to chuck it and get out.
- I haven't said that.

-
I thought you had.

- I said I could if I wanted to. I said I wasn't going to wait around for any favours and I wasn't going to be pushed into doing any thing I didn't want to do. You can tell Ingrid that from me, and her mother an'all
...
She doesn't like me, y'know.

- I know she doesn't. But Ida, and I don't shy away from the idea of you as a son-in-law.

- Thank you very much.

Thanks for everything ...