I dont see why, I said.
It stands to reason. Before you worked. You were like me. But now youre like Flo, sitting around at home and talking.
But Im trying to work.
Yes? Well, its not your fault. But all the same, it makes me sad. I used to like our talks at night, but now youre not tired any more and you go off to the theatre.
Why dont you come too? I dont like going by myself.
Yes? Why should I go to the theatre? Yes, I know, I went to a play once. Dickie took me. Well, you can keep it. It had what they called a working woman in it, carrying on and making everyone laugh. Well, if you want to go and laugh at things you should know better about. Im not stopping you. Besides, if I come with you. I might be out some evening when Dickie comes around to see me.
Itd do him good to find you out.
You think so? Well, Im working on a plan for making him jealous, proper. When Ive fixed everything Ill tell you. But, meantime, dont you let Flo turn you against me, Im warning you.
She never tries to turn me against you.
Yes? I know the kind of thing she says. It makes me blush even to think.
Theres no need.
Yes? I know Flo.
Well, I know Flo, too, and shes very fond of you.
There you are, youre on her side already. Fond! the words you use.
But Rose, you know she is.
Well, never mind. All I know is she makes me sick and so does everybody. Take no notice of me, dear. I just wish I was dead and buried and when she starts all winking and grinning out of the wrong side of her mouth about Dickie I wish I could hit her.
Flos life was spent in the basement. She and Aurora were confined there, with the doors and windows shut, the fire burning winter and summer, the lights burning even at midday. The radio poured out words and music at full blast. When I turned the radio down, Flo became uneasy, although she never actively listened to any programme. I had understood by now that she was lonely; something hard to accept when one looked at these houses from outside, knowing them to be crammed with people.
But here she was, alone all day with the radio and Aurora. She took the child out every afternoon to do the shopping, but for the rest, they relied on each other for company. When I lived in similarly crowded places in that other continent, where every family, no matter how poor, has black servants, the woman and children flowed together like tadpoles the moment the men left for work; and the family units were only defined again by their return.
In the mornings I crept downstairs with my rubbish-can, hoping that the din from the radio would prevent her from hearing me. But it was not a question of hearing. Flo knew by instinct exactly what was happening everywhere in the house, and she flung open the door, spilling out cats and dogs like articles from an over-full cupboard and said, with the dramatic expression of one who expected to see a burglar: Oh, its you, dear, is it? Come and have a nice cup of lea. If I said I was busy she looked so disappointed. I gave in.
Aurora was always standing on the table in her nightgown, crying with temper, with a plate of food at her feet. You can stay up there until you eat it, Flo yelled. Im not having any of your nonsense. That was about ten in the morning, the time Flo got out of bed, Aurora, who had gone to sleep at eleven or twelve the night before, was still blinking and drowsy in between her fits of screaming. Its driving me nuts. Flo said every morning. This kid never eats. And she would grab Aurora and hustle her into a chair, Eat! Eat! she commanded, glaring down, her hands on her hips. The food was left over from the night before; warmed-over spaghetti perhaps, or a bit of meat pie with cold chips, Flo explained it was no use cooking anything proper for a child who didnt eat it in any case. This daily scene once over both sides took it as a necessary routine Flo handed Aurora a bottle; and until mid-afternoon, when they went out to shop, the three-year-old child would wander about the basement in her night-gown, hair in curlers, sucking at her bottle, and taking no notice at all of her mothers screams: Get out of my way. For Gods sake, get out of my way. The place was so crowded that Aurora was in fact always under Flos feet. This pair of prisoners were bored to the point where they exploded several times a day in a violent scene, Flo cuffing and slapping Aurora and Aurora biting and scratching in self-defence so that the screams and yells reverberated through the building. Yet it seemed that this violence was of a different quality from Mrs Skeffingtons with her child; because beneath the apparent mutual hatred was a sub-stratum of something warm and friendly. Flo would look down at his scrap of humanity for whom she was responsible with a look of comic bewilderment, as if she were thinking: What sort of trick has fate played on me? And shed say: I dont understand it, I dont really. All those years I was running that restaurant, no trouble at all, but this kid beats me and thats a fact.
It seemed to me that Aurora understood quite well this process that Flo herself referred to as letting off steam, because at one moment these two females would be screaming and tussling, and the next, exhausted but amicable, they rested in each others arms, Aurora grinning with a tear-smeared face; and Flo, a cigarette drooping from the corner of her mouth over the childs head saying over and over again: Oh, my Lord, its all too much for me. Oar, I wish youd grow up a bit and then wed get on better, Im telling you.
At regular intervals a women referred to by Flo as that interfering busybody from the Welfare would descend, to find Flo, bland as butter, serving tea and her wonderful cake, and Aurora dressed to kill in organdie and white ribbons. If anyone was there, Flo would direct, over the womans head, a profound and cynical wink. Yes, dear; oh, yes, I know, dear, she said in response to every piece of advice from the expert. I did what you said, but shes so naughty Her hand extended automatically towards a slap, and withdrew itself again; for Flo sensed that Welfare would not approve of slapping.
You dont have to let her in, I said, watching her frantically getting herself and Aurora ready, for the enemy had been observed going into a house three doors down to visit the child whose name was on the list before Auroras.
What do you mean? Shes Government, isnt she? Its the Labour that inflicted all these bitches on us.
The Tories, too, when they get back.
The Tories, too, when they get back.
Lord let me see the day. But theyd never want to wear us out with all them nosey-parkers.
You wait and see. And, besides, arent you pleased about the Health Service?
I never said anything against that, did I?
That was Labour. She was sceptical. It was, too.
If you say so, dear, she said at last, with the weary good nature which meant she was going to humour me.
When we knew Welfare was on the way, Flo always waited until the last moment in her bedroom, clutching Aurora by the hand, so as to make an entrance while I opened the outer door, from a room which was the apotheosis of a bedroom. The suite had cost nearly two hundred pounds, was being paid for on hire purchase, and was all beige-coloured varnish, highlighted with gilt. As Flo said, it would give Welfare a nice impression, to see her and Oar, all in their best, coming out of a fancy room. And Ill leave the door so she can fill her eyes with our new eiderdown. Thatll show her.
The eiderdown was electric-blue satin and about a yard thick. It was never used to sleep under. At nights Flo wrapped it in an old blanket and put it away until she made the bed next day.
When I had opened the door for Welfare, I was expected to excuse myself and go upstairs. It makes me nervous, Flo said, with you there, and me trying to keep her happy. The Lord knows what shell think up next. Do you know, she said it was wrong for Oar to sleep in the same room as Dan and me?
Perhaps shes right.
Are you laughing at your Flo? My Lord, the things they think up. And she said last time Oars teeth had to come out, they were rotting in her head.
Well, they are.
Yes, dear, but theyre baby teeth and theyll fall out of themselves, the trouble they give themselves these people. Well, shes got to earn a living, hasnt she, I dont hold it against her.
Once she asked Welfare if Aurora could go to a council nursery. But the reply was that Flo had a nice home and it was better for small children to be with their mothers. Besides, the council nurseries were closing down. Women marry to have children, said the official when Flo said she was trained for restaurant work and wanted to go back to it the truth was she planned to help with Bobby Brents night-club.
Women here and women there, said Flo, when Welfare had gone. Shes a woman herself, so you might think, only if shes got a pussy I bet she wouldnt know what to do with it; and there she is, talking about women. Sometimes I wish there was another war, I do really. All sugar and spice then, they dont talk about women then. Not them. Red-tape-and-scissors would be talking different. Are you doing your bit for your country, dear? shed be saying to me. Dont worry a little bit about your dear little baby, shed say. Well look after her. Id like to have her shut up here seven days a week with a saucepan in her hand and a brat driving her mad with not eating, and a husband at her day and night. Mind you, a mand do her good. Take some of the starch out of her tongue, for one thing. She giggled, clapping her hand over her mouth. Ah, my Lord, can you see her with her nice little voice and her nice little face all prim and straight telling her husband Women get married to have children, poor man, well, Im sorry for him.
But as Flo could not get a place in a nursery, Welfares remark became ammunition against Mrs Skeffington. If Flo wanted to be unpleasant, she would climb the stairs to the Skeffingtons flat and say: Some people get rid of their kids into a nursery. A decent woman looks after her children herself.
Inside the flat immediately fell a defensive silence, the silence of the tenant who fears more than anything else in this world, a weeks notice.
Flo would then descend the two flights, fling open my door and say: I didnt mean you, darling. Youre different.
I dont see why.
It stands to reason. Did you see Mr Skeffingtons dressing-gown this morning? All purple and silk and everything?
When I had finished drinking tea with Flo in the mornings I would begin the fight for my right to work.
I was ever so glad when I knew you were stopping working, she said, every morning, with sorrowful reproach. I thought I would have some company for a change. Everybody works in this house, except that Miss Powell, if you can call that work. Here she grinned, delightedly. I wouldnt mind if that was my only work, would you, dear? But Flo did not waste her gifts in the mornings. For enjoyment she must have a larger audience. There had not only to be someone capable of being shocked and for that purpose I was useful, for when I didnt show shock, shed say impatiently: Now Ive upset you, dear, I know it go on, blush! but there had also to be an accomplice with whom she could share amusement at the innocents discomfort. So now she contented herself with murmuring: If someone would pay me for kicking up my heels.