Authors: H.E. Bates
âNice and Comfortable,' she said. âI got my own eggs and things. Commercials all say it's a home from home.'
She eyed me up and down with the coy girlish glances: in the naked electric light the powder on her face was like mauve crust, and the rings on her fingers glittered like lumps of emerald and white and rosy sugar.
I asked her how much the tea was. She said sixpence and then, at that moment, there was a noise of another car drawing up on the gravel outside. I put the sixpence on the counter, but she did not notice it. The tearless blue eyes were fixed on the door instead.
âWell, Mr. Parkinson!' she said. âWell, of all people!'
âHullo, hullo, hullo.'
A man in a large grey tweed overcoat and a silk blue muffler and a pair of driving gloves that crouched on his hands like black kittens came stamping up to the counter.
âGod, it's cold, May, it's cold,' he said. âIt's turning for snow. It's enough toâââ
At that moment he saw me and began laughing. âWell, you knowââ'
Winking, he laughed again and took off his gloves and slapped his hands together. The sixpence lay on the counter, but she did not notice it, and the man said:
âTuck up close tonight, eh?' He laughed once again. âGot to keep warm somehow.'
âStaying?' She said.
âYou bet. And a cuppa tea please.' He shuddered with cold and she picked up the two boxes that held the medals.
âI'll just run up and put a hot bottle in the bed,' she said.
âGot your bag, Mr. Parkinson?'
âI'll slip and get it, he said. âLeft it in the car.'
He went outside and she stood for a moment behind the counter, holding the medals. The face that seemed carved from candle-grease appeared all at once to have stiffened. There was no smile on it. The coy girlishness had gone from the eyes; and on the mauve, crusty cheeks were two small rows of scars where the rings had bitten hard on the flesh.
âGood night,' I said. âAnd thank you.'
âGood night, sir,' she said.
By the time I reached the door she had turned away and was already taking the medals back upstairs. At the door Mr. Parkinson blundered hastily through, carrying his bag.
âGod, it's cold,' he said, and a moment later, as I stopped outside, I heard him call:
âBring the bag up, May, shall I?'
I walked across the gravel and stood by the car, putting on my gloves. The flat fields were quite dark now and the wind, sea-borne and icy, was rattling nakedly through frozen reeds on the dyke sides.
Upstairs in the cafÃ© there was a light in the bedroom. Just before I started the car I saw her come to the window and pull down the blind. It was one of those old blackout blinds left over from the war. It shut out the light completely.
I stood thinking for a moment longer of the mother who had earned the money and the son who had earned the medals; and in that moment there was no sound in the cold air but Mr. Parkinson's laughter.
H. E. Bates was born in 1905 in the shoe-making town of Rushden, Northamptonshire, and educated at Kettering Grammar School. After leaving school, he worked as a reporter and as a clerk in a leather warehouse.
Many of his stories depict life in the rural Midlands, particularly his native Northamptonshire, where he spent many hours wandering the countryside.
His first novel,
The Two Sisters
(1926) was published by Jonathan Cape when he was just twenty. Many critically acclaimed novels and collections of short stories followed.
During WWII he was commissioned into the RAF solely to write short stories, which were published under the pseudonym “Flying Officer X”. His first financial success was
Fair Stood the Wind for France
(1944), followed by two novels about Burma,
The Purple Plain
The Jacaranda Tree
(1949) and one set in India,
The Scarlet Sword
(1950). Other well-known novels include
Love for Lydia
The Feast of July
His most popular creation was the Larkin family which featured in five novels beginning with
The Darling Buds of May
in 1958. The later television adaptation was a huge success.
Many other stories were adapted for the screen, the most renowned being
The Purple Plain
(1947) starring Gregory Peck, and
The Triple Echo
(1970) with Glenda Jackson and Oliver Reed.
H. E. Bates married in 1931, had four children and lived most of his life in a converted granary near Charing in Kent. He was awarded the CBE in 1973, shortly before his death in 1974.
Discover other books by H. E. Bates published by Bloomsbury Reader at
Share your reviews and comments with us via
For copyright reasons, any images not belonging to the original author have been removed from this book. The text has not been changed, and may still contain references to missing images.
First published in Great Britain in 1951 by Michael Joseph
âFor Valour' first published in Great Britain in 1951 by Modern Reading
This electronic edition published in 2016 by Bloomsbury Reader
Copyright Â© 1951 Evensford Productions Ltd
The moral right of the author is asserted.
Bloomsbury Reader is an imprint of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc
50 Bedford Square
Bloomsbury is a trademark of Bloomsbury Publishing plc
Bloomsbury Publishing, London, Oxford, New Delhi, New York and Sydney
All rights reserved
You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying, printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.
to find out more about our authors and their books.
You will find extracts, author interviews, author events and you can
sign up for newsletters
to be the first to hear about our latest releases and special offers.
You can also find us on Twitter