The Lonely Londoners Page 9

  So Galahad talking to the colour Black, as if is a person, telling it that is not he who causing botheration in the place, but Black, who is a worthless thing for making trouble all about. ‘Black, you see what you cause to happen yesterday? I went to look at that room that Ram tell me about in the Gate, and as soon as the landlady see you she say the room let already. She ain’t even give me a chance to say good morning. Why the hell you can’t change colour?’

  Galahad get so interested in this theory about Black that he went to tell Moses. ‘Is not we that the people don’t like,’ he tell Moses, ‘is the colour Black.’ But the day he went to Moses with this theory Moses was in a evil mood, because a new friend did just get in a thing with some white fellars by Praed Street, near Paddington Station. The friend was standing up there reading in the window about rooms to let and things to sell, and it had a notice saying Keep the Water White, and right there the friend start to get on ignorant (poor fellar, he was new in London) and want to get in big argument with the white people standing around.

  So Moses tell Galahad, ‘Take it easy, that is a sharp theory, why you don’t write about it.’

  Anyway all thought like that out of Galahad mind as he out on this summer evening, walking down the Bayswater Road on his way to the Circus. He go into the gardens, and begin to walk down to the Arch, seeing so much cat about the place, laying down on the grass, sitting and talking, all of them in pretty summer colours, the grass green, the sky blue, sun shining, flowers growing, the fountains spouting water, and Galahad Esquire strolling through all of this, three-four pounds in the pocket, sharp clothes on - lord oh lord - going to meet a first-class craft that waiting for him in the Circus. Once or twice, as he get a smile here and there, he mad to forget Daisy and try to make some headway in the park.

  By the Arch, he meet one of the boys.

  ‘Where you going,’ the test say.

  ‘Have a date, man, going to pick up a little thing down the road.’

  ‘Listen, listen here to the rarse this man talking, about how colonials shouldn’t come to Brit’n, that the place overflowing with spades.’

  ‘I ain’t have time, man, I late already.’

  ‘Lend me ten shillings.’

  ‘I can’t make it now, come round tomorrow.’

  ‘Oh God ease me up, man. A cup of char?’

  Galahad give him a shilling and move away from the Arch, watching up at the clock on the Odeon although he have wristwatch. The clock saying halfpast seven and he have to meet Daisy at eight. He start to walk a little faster, but was five past when he find himself in the Circus.

  Always, from the first time he went there to see Eros and the lights, that circus have a magnet for him, that circus represent life, that circus is the beginning and the ending of the world. Every time he go there, he have the same feeling like when he see it the first night, drink coca-cola, any time is guinness time, bovril and the fireworks, a million flashing lights, gay laughter, the wide doors of theatres, the huge posters, everready batteries, rich people going into tall hotels, people going to the theatre, people sitting and standing and walking and talking and laughing and buses and cars and Galahad Esquire, in all this, standing there in the big city, in London. Oh Lord.

  He went down the steps into the station, and Daisy was expecting him to come by tube so she watching the escalators, and he walk up behind her and he put his hands over she eyes, and that evening people in the tube station must be bawl to see black man so familiar with white girl. But Galahad feeling too good to bother about the loud tones in them people eyes. Tonight is his night. This was something he uses to dream about in Trinidad. The time when he was leaving, Frank tell him: ‘Boy, it have bags of white pussy in London, and you will eat till you tired.’ And now, the first date, in the heart of London, dressed to kill, ready to escort the number around the town, anywhere she want to go, any place at all.

  Daisy was dress up plenty, she look different than when she in the plant with a pair of jeans and a overalls on. All the grease and dirt wash off the hands, the hair comb well, the dress is a sort of cotton but it have all sorts of coloured designs on it and it look pretty, and she have on lipstick for so. She look real sharp, and when he was coming up he notice the trim legs, and the straight lines of the nylons, and the highheel shoes.

  Daisy move his hands and say, ‘Oh, it’s you. I thought you were coming by tube.’ And she look a little embarrass, but Galahad didn’t notice.

  ‘What time it is now in Trinidad?’ Galahad look at the big clock, watching for Trinidad; the island so damn small it only have a dot and the name. ‘That is where I come from,’ he tell Daisy, ‘you see how far it is from England?’

  ‘We’ll be late,’ Daisy say.

  ‘Which part you want to go,’ Galahad ask, ‘anywhere at all. Tonight we on a big splurge.’

  ‘They’re showing The Gladiator at the Hippodrome, and I want to see it.’

  ‘Pictures! Is pictures you want to go to tonight?’

  ‘Well it’s Sunday and all the theatres are closed.’

  ‘Who acting in The Gladiator?’

  ‘Victor Mature.’

  ‘Well if that is what you want, all right. But I was thinking we could go some place and have a good time, being as is the only night I have off for the whole week, and you too.’

  So they went to this theatre that showing The Gladiator, and Galahad feeling good with this piece of skin walking with him. But when he look at prices to enter, he couldn’t help saying how it was a lot of money, not that he mind, but he know that that same picture would come down in the Water and show for two and six.

  ‘This is the West End,’ Daisy remind him.

  ‘All right, even if is a pound we still going.’

  After the picture they went to a restaurant and eat a big meal, and Galahad buy a bottle of French wine, telling the waiter to bring the best.

  The summer night descend with stars, they walking hand in hand, and Galahad feeling hearts.

  ‘It was a lovely evening –’ Daisy began.

  ‘Come and go in the yard,’ Galahad say.

  ‘What?’ Daisy say.

  ‘The yard. Where I living.’

  All this time he was stalling, because he feeling sort of shame to bring the girl in that old basement room, but if the date end in fiasco he know the boys would never finish giving him tone for spending all that money and not eating.

  Daisy start to hesitate but he make haste and catch a number twelve, telling she that it all on the way home. When they hop off by the Water she was still getting on prim, but Galahad know was only grandcharge, and besides the old blood getting hot, so he walk Daisy brisk down the road, and she quiet as a mouse. They went down the basement steps and Galahad fumble for the key, and when he open the door a whiff of stale food and old clothes and dampness and dirt come out the door and he only waiting to hear what Daisy would say.

  But she ain’t saying nothing, and he walk through the passage and open the door and put the light on.

  Daisy sit down on the bed and Galahad say: ‘You want a cup of char?’ And without waiting for any answer he full the pot in the tap and put it on the ring and turn the gas on. He feel so excited that he had to light a cigarette, and he keep saying Take it easy to himself.

  ‘Is this your room?’ Daisy say, looking around and shifting about as if she restless.

  ‘Yes,’ Galahad say. ‘You like it?’

  ‘Yes,’ Daisy say.

  Galahad throw a copy of Ebony to her and she begin to turn the pages.

  With all the excitement Galahad taking off the good clothes carefully and slowly, putting the jacket and trousers on the hanger right away, and folding up the shirt and putting it in the drawer.

  When the water was boiling he went to the cupboard and take out a packet of tea, and he shake some down in the pot.

  Daisy look at him as if he mad.

  ‘Is that how you make tea?’ she ask.

  ‘Yes,’ Galahad say. ‘No foolish
ness about it. Tea is tea - you just drop some in the kettle. If you want it strong, you drop plenty. If you want it weak, you drop little bit. And so you make a lovely cuppa.’

  He take the kettle off and rest it on a sheet of Daily Express on the ground. He bring two cups, a spoon, a bottle of milk and a packet of sugar.

  ‘Fix up,’ he say, handing Daisy a cup.

  They sit down there sipping the tea and talking.

  ‘You get that raise the foreman was promising you?’ Galahad ask, for something to say.

  ‘What did you say? You know it will take me some time to understand everything you say. The way you West Indians speak!’

  ‘What wrong with it?’ Galahad ask. ‘Is English we speaking.’

  And so he coasting a little oldtalk until the tea finish, and afterwards he start to make one set of love to Daisy.

  ‘It was battle royal in that basement, man,’ he tell Moses afterwards, and he went on to give a lot of detail, though all of that is nothing to a old veteran like Moses, is only to Galahad is new because is the first time with a white number. Moses smile a knowing smile, a tired smile, and ‘Take it easy,’ he tell Sir Galahad.

  Big City come from an orphanage in one of the country district in Trinidad. When he was a little fellar, he hear some people talking about the music the norphanage band does play. But instead of hearing ‘music’ Big City thought he hear ‘fusic' and since that time nobody could ever get him to say music.

  ‘Listen to that sharp piece of fusic by Mantovanee, Moses.’

  ‘Man Big City, the word is “music” not “fusic”.’

  ‘Ah, you only trying to tie me up. You think I don’t know English?’

  When Big City get big he left the norphanage and he went in the army in Trinidad. He used to eat so much food, you couldn’t see him behind the plate. It was there that he get the name Big City. He always talking about the big cities of the world.

  ‘Big city for me,’ he would say. ‘None of this smalltime village life for me. Is New York and London and Paris, that is big life. You think I going to stay in Trinidad when the war over? This small place? No, not this old man.’

  Big City had a way, he used to be grumpy and vex with everybody until it was payday. You couldn’t tell him a word until Friday come.

  ‘Big City, what happening man?’

  ‘Listen, why you —ing me up so? Why you don’t — off and leave me alone?’

  ‘But I only ask you what’s happening, man.’

  ‘Leave me alone, get to — out.’

  All the week he like that, but when he get pay on Friday, he sitting down on the counter – he used to be in the stores – and picking his toes and smiling, and calling out to everybody who come in.

  ‘Come and have a drink,’ he would invite friend and stranger. ‘I have a bottle here.’ He never mop a drink from anybody, it was he who always giving, and he would talk about all the big places in the world, how after the war he was going to work on ships and go all about.

  Little later that same day, some fellars would say: ‘Big City, how about some wapee?’

  ‘Listen to this man! I don’t gamble, boy.’

  But half an hour after Big City kneeling down in the circle, a dollar bill crumple up and stick in his earhole, and some small change before him.

  By the time Monday come around he revert to ‘haul your arse’ and ‘stop —ing me up’ when anybody talk to him.

  War over, and Big City begin to work on ship and travel all about. One day the ship dock in London and he went to Piccadilly Circus and watch the big life. When the ship sail Big City stay behind.

  But with all the travelling and experience he still remain convinced that it ain’t have no word like ‘music’.

  ‘Where you going, Big City?’

  ‘Nottingham Gate.’

  ‘Is not Nottingham, boy, is Notting Hill.’

  ‘You trying to – me up?’

  ‘All right, all right. Where you living now?’

  ‘Shepherd’s Hill.’

  How it is that Big City get a car, nobody know. But all of a sudden the boys see him driving car all over London.

  ‘Where you get that car, Big City?’

  ‘Mind your own —ing business. You want a drive?’

  The week he get this car he meet with a accident with a number fortynine bus and he had was to go to court. He went around by Moses moaning, with a lot of forms he had to full up. Big City always confuse when he have forms to full up, and in the old Brit’n it have bags of that to do. He and the English woman he living with always arguing, is not that way, no, you put the date in the wrong place, man, why you so stupid, you can’t see where it say date of birth in the next line?

  So to avoid contention with the wife he does always go round by Moses whenever he have forms to full up.

  ‘How this accident happen?’ Moses ask.

  ‘Boy, them —ing bus drivers can’t drive, I was going slow down by Gloucestershire Road– ’

  ‘You mean Gloucester Road.’

  ‘Stop —ing me up, man, I tell you Gloucestershire Road. And same time this bus fly round the corner –’

  Moses help Big City to full up the forms.

  Another thing, he like to go in for football pool, but up to now he don’t know how to full up the forms properly, and every week he round by Moses.

  ‘Boy, the day I win that £75,000, oh lord! It would be hell in London city, boy. You know I nearly had them last week? I was only one draw out – you sure you marking the nought in the right place?’

  ‘Man Big City,’ Moses say, ‘is time you learn to full up the coupon for yourself, you know. It not hard. Let me show you.’

  But Big City went on as if Moses didn’t speak. ‘Blackpool playing Aston Villa this week,’ he say, ‘that is a sure draw. What you think of Arsenal?’

  ‘Listen,’ Moses say. ‘I tired telling you, I don’t believe that football pool is for me. If I ever get money is by the sweat of the brow, and not through winning anything.’

  ‘You making joke, Moses! Last week two fellars win £75,000. Why you don’t take a chance? Is only a tanner a week I does invest. Why you don’t join the Littlewoods Happy Circle of Investigators? Look it have a place there where you can put your name and address on the coupon, and they will start sending you forms.’

  ‘Big City,’ Moses say again, tired out with helping full the form week after week, ‘make a effort to learn, boy. You see where it mark eight selections? You have to make a nought in eight places. You can’t go wrong even if you try. Right in the spaces here.’

  But Big City enter the pools every week and never full up a form himself yet. He try Littlewoods for two months, then he give it up and switch to Shermans. After that he went to Hills, then Vernon, then Cope, then he went back to Littlewoods.

  ‘Never mind boy,’ he tell Moses, ‘one day I will win that £75,000 and then you know what?’

  ‘No, what?’

  ‘Big city, boy, big city. Paris, Brussels, Berlin, Rome, Bagdan, then after the States, San Francis, Chicago, New York, then after one of them yacht to sail in the Mediteran. And women? Women for so! Where all those bigshots does go? On the River, in Italy.’

  ‘And what about the car you have now, you will give it to your good friend Moses who full up the form for you, or when you have all that money you forget your friends?’

  ‘No boy. You know what I will do? I would like to have money, and buy out a whole street of house, and give it to the boys and say: “Here, look place to live.” And I would put a notice on all the boards: “Keep the Water Coloured, No Rooms For Whites.” ’

  ‘But Big City, you only have mouth, man. I sure if you win all that money you head straight back for Trinidad to eat a breadfruit and saltfish and go Maracas Bay to bathe in the sea.’

  ‘Who, me? No boy. I not saying I mightn’t go back. Come to think of it is a good idea to go back like a lord and let all them bitches see how much money I have. But wherever I roam, I will land back
in the old Brit’n. Nine-ten years I live here now, and I get to like the place. But Moses, serious boy, if you get that £75,000 in the pools what you would do?’

  ‘I never think about that, I tell you. I would never get money that way.’

  ‘You never know your luck, old man. Look, you remember in ’51 it had a Jamaica fellar what win some money in the pools. You know what he do? He send for the whole family and he buy three-four house in London. Now, he living easy, and that wasn’t even a £75,000. You could sit on your tail and say you won’t get it, but tell me Moses, if you get it, what you will do?’

  ‘I don’t know, I tell you. I does always think poor, the old brain can’t imagine what to do with all that money.’

  But after City leave him Moses used to think bout that money, how it would solve all the problems in the world. He used to see all his years in London pile up one on top of the other, and he getting no place in a hurry, and the years going by, and the thought make him frighten sometimes.

  Although Big City have no work, yet he always have money, for he does go in for big deals, though nobody ever know what them big deals is. Once he went away for three months and when he come back, he tell the boys he went for holiday in Wales. But everybody suspect that the law catch up with City.