The Watchers on the Shore (6 page)

I wasn't going to disturb that,'Ingrid says.

'No good sitting shivering,'I say. 'I can bank it up again when we go to bed.'

'I shall be going in a minute.'

'I shan't be long meself.'

I sit down on the other side of the fireplace and light a fag.

'How are your mother and father?'Ingrid asks after a minute.

'As usual. They're thinking of flitting to a smaller house.'

'I suppose that one is a bit big for them now ... Did you tell them why I hadn't gone with you?'

'Yes.'

'What did they say?'

'Nothing special. Why?'

'Oh, I don't know. I sometimes think your mother hasn't much sympathy for mine.'

'What makes you think that?'

'It's just a feeling I get sometimes.'

'You know my mother never makes a lot of fuss.'

'Mmm,'she says. 'She's no need to, has she?'

'What d'you mean?'

'Well, she hasn't lost anybody and she keeps in good health.'

'I didn't mean that. Anyway, her health isn't all that good, but
she doesn't grumble. And if she did lose me dad she'd square up to
it. Better than some, I reckon.'

'You never know till it happens.'

'No, I suppose not.'

'She does miss him, but she's got used to it in eighteen months. It's her health that's the trouble.' 'Yes.'

'I don't like to think of her being on her own when she's not well.'

'No, it's not pleasant. Still, you're not far away. You can see her
nearly every day.'

'Mmm,'she murmurs. She gives a sigh and stands up.

'You going to bed now?'

'Yes.'

'I'll just mend the fire again and lock up.'

She stands at one side of the fireplace.'Have you thought about what you're going to do when you've finished at the shop?'

'I keep thinking about it.'

'It won't be long now, will it?'

'No, I'll be out of work in a week or two, I reckon. Soon as all
the books have been sorted out.'

'Well you can't count on living on that money Mr Van Huyten
left you because you haven't got it yet.'

'No, and as far as I can see it could be six months before I do get it. If I get it at all.'

'You will get it eventually, won't you? There's no doubt about
that, is there?'

'Well, I suppose it'll depend on whether there's so much left
when all the accounts have been balanced and the debts paid. It'll
be all right as far as I can see, but you never know.'

'Why don't you give Mr Hassop a ring at Whittaker's and see if
he can take you back?'

I pull a face. 'No
...
I dunno. It looks like engineering again, but I don't fancy going back to Whittaker's. I should be fidgety
again inside a month . . . I've been thinking about that letter I had from Albert Conroy. I haven't replied to it yet, what with Mr Van
Huyten going so sudden, and all the messing about since.'

'But we can't just pack up and go all that way.'

'Why not? Other people do it. We don't have to stick around
here all our lives, do we?'

'I don't see why not. I like it here. All my friends are here. And besides, there's Mother to think about. I couldn't leave her now.'

'You wouldn't have to leave her straight away. Suppose I did go: it'd mean me living in digs till I saw if I like the job and found a house*'

"That'd mean me staying here on my own.'

'Well, for a bit.'

'I don't see why we have to go to all that trouble. There's plenty
of engineering firms round here.'

'Look, Ingrid, things haven't worked out like we expected. I've got to go back to engineering but I just don't feel I can do it here. I fancy a change, a new place, fresh faces, a new start, and a job with prospects.'

'But all that way ...'

'God almighty, it's only two hundred miles. People are moving
about to new jobs like that all the time.'

She stands thinking and looking down into the fire.

'Have you mentioned it to your mother and dad?'

'I did say I might fancy moving away.'

'What did they say?'

'What does it matter what they said?'

'I know what my mother will say.'

This brings me up on my feet, my face set as my mind's set;
ready to lay the law down now before we go any further along that
road.

'Now look here, Ingrid, I know your mother's not well and all
that, but she's young enough and she'll get over it. This is between
you and me. Nobody else. If you say you don't want to go, I want
good reasons. But
your
reasons, not ideas your mother's put into
your head.'

'I'm sure there's no need to talk like that - 'she begins.

'Ah, but there is,'I butt in. 'Plenty of need. We've had all this sort of thing before. Remember? Well this time I'm scotching it before it starts.'

'You've already made your mind up, haven't you?'she says in a minute. 'I can tell.'

'Well you're telling wrong.'

'You wouldn't be so worked up about it if you hadn't.'

'It's the principle I'm getting worked up about, not the job.'

'Well there's no need to shout.'

Maybe my voice has risen a bit. It sometimes does when I'm on
the subject of Ingrid's mother.

'I'm sorry. I didn't know I was shouting.'

'You were. And I've got a headache.'

'You go on to bed. I'll be with you in a minute.'

'I'd like to get this business settled before I go.
Have
you made
your mind up?'

'How can I have when I haven't seen the place?'

'Well what do you intend to do?'

'I'm going to write to Conroy tomorrow and tell him I'd like to go down and look it over.'

'It's no good me talking then, is it?'

'There's not much point in anybody talking till I've been and had a look.'

'There's no point in moving all that way just out of spite,
either.'

'Look, don't talk so damn'silly, Ingrid. I was happy enough at the shop, but that's all gone now. It's my place to think about our future. What's best for us. It's my responsibility and nobody else's. And people should remember that before they start handing out advice.'

She turns away, not looking at me. 'I'm going to bed.'

'Okay, we'll talk about it another time.'

'I don't think there's any point in me talking about it again,'she throws over her shoulder, the door shutting behind her and cutting off my chance to reply.

In a minute I pick up the coal scuttle and take a swing at the fire
which scatters lumps of coal all over the hearth. And then I'm
down on my hands and knees, picking them all up, my cup
brimming over with the joys of married life.

4

'Course, you're on a pretty good thing today,'Conroy says. 'You don't have to prove yourself - we've got to tempt you.'He hunches over the little fake rustic table, one big hand round his pint of bitter.

'Well for God's sake don't ask me how you stress a beam, Albert,'I say with a laugh, 'because I've forgotten.'

'Oh, that'll come back in no time. You know where to look for
the information, anyway. The main thing is, do you really want to
come back into engineering?'

'I've got no option. I need a job. I'm not carrying on as a shop
assistant now Mr Van Huyten's dead, and engineering's the only
other trade I know.'

'You know, I wondered if you weren't making a mistake going
into that shop. I remember thinking so when I heard.'

'Oh, it's a long story, Albert. I had a pretty good relationship
with old Mr Van Huyten; that was the
main reason. Things didn't
turn out quite like I expected, but I don't really regret it.'

The little dark-haired barmaid who's dealing with the lunches comes over to our table with a fistful of cutlery.

'Would you like to start now?'

'Er, yes,'Conroy says, glancing at his watch, 'may as well, Shirley.'

'Soup for both?'she asks as she sets out knives and forks and spoons.

Conroy looks at me and I nod.

'Yes, two soups ... You haven't been introduced to Shirley, have you, Vic? This is a friend of mine. Vic Brown, Shirley. I want you to look after him because he might be coming to work for us.'

'Is he from up there as well?'the girl asks, and Conroy laughs.

'Aye, he is that, luv, 'he says, laying on the Yorkshire.

'There'll be nobody left in Bradford if it goes on like this,'Shirley says.

Conroy's still laughing as she goes away. 'Nice kid. Thinks all Yorkshiremen come from Bradford.'

'You seem to be able to chat her up,'I say. 'Is this your local?'

'I come in quite a bit. It's a decent lunch they put on. Bowl of
soup, help yourself off the cold table, piece of apple pie, and coffee
to finish. Seven and six. Not that I can afford that every day. I have
to use the canteen sometimes, and that's a bit rough yet. Give us another five or six years of prosperity, though, and I expect we'll have a canteen for every two people, graded according to status.'

'The rewards of industry.'

'Aye. You don't want to give a bloke more money so you soften
him up by giving him a fancy title and letting him eat his dinner in a
posh canteen. Me, I'll take this set-up we've got here. The boss
knows everybody by his first name and there's no bull-shit or
hangers-on serving their time till retiring age. It can't last, though:
we've too much work coming in and we're forced to expand. I was
the only designer when I first came. Now we've got Jimmy and
another bloke as well; and we need another man desperate, maybe
two. And it's going on in every department. In fact, there weren't
any departments eighteen months ago, just a few blokes doing their
jobs ... Would you like another drink?'

'No, I don't think so. Drinking at dinner-time puts me to sleep.'

'You'll have to learn to cope with it, lad. Entertaining customers, and all that. It's these places the business is done in nowadays.'

I reach for his glass. 'Let me get you filled up, anyway.'

'No, we're on the firm today. I'll put an expenses slip in later on.
Have a short, if you fancy one.'

I shake my head. 'No, what's left of this pint will do me.'

Conroy gets up and fetches another pint for himself and as he comes back the soup arrives.

'Heard any good music lately?'he asks as we start.

'Not recently, no.'

'You used to frequent the old concerts, though, didn't you?'

'Yes, I used to go with Mr Van Huyten now and again. It's not in Ingrid's line, though. Do you get anything like that round here?'