Under the July Sun (21 page)

‘What's up? You don't sound very pleased.'

‘Of course I'm pleased for you. It's just that…'

‘What?'

‘Well, you know Mum is rather critical of Cat and it's easier when there's a bit of distance between them. I can pop over on my own to see you without having to tread on eggshells.'

‘Oh. Louis, I'm sure it's not as bad as that, is it? And in any case, I would have thought Cat could take care of herself.'

‘It's not that easy, Lize. She tries hard to keep the peace and not say anything, but Mum can be very trying…'

‘You don't have to tell
me
about it, Louis! I have to live with it day and night and there's no way out for me you know.' She sounded angry.
‘Lize, I'm not criticising you. It's just that Cat has been so ill since the baby was born; she's just not up to it.'

‘I've had children too, Louis, and had to get on with it.'

‘I know, Lize, but I'm just saying that Cat is not in the best of health and I don't want Mum upsetting her.'

‘Well, I thought you would have been pleased that Mum's going to be more occupied and will definitely not have time to make social calls, so you needn't worry about
that
.'

Iris sat looking from her mother to Louis and he noticed the worried look on her face.

‘Maybe we should discuss this another time,' he said and got up to leave.

‘Aren't you staying after all then?'

‘No, Lize, I've suddenly lost my appetite. Say hello to Mum for me, I must be off now,' and with that he strode out of the kitchen, down the hall and out through the front door.

He wished he didn't feel so angry with Lize. He'd given her the house long ago, no question about that, but in his hour of greatest need, he felt that they hadn't considered sharing even part of the profit of the sale with him.

He had intended asking his mother for a loan to buy the evening suit as the shops he had visited so far had told him they didn't do Easy Terms.

He strode down the path, mounted his bicycle and pedalled furiously away, cursing repeatedly.

‘Dammit, dammit, dammit.'

On Saturday, Louis pawned his watch, cuff links and a gold brooch that had belonged to his grandmother in order to buy the much-needed evening suit. It would have to be second-hand he decided. He had never worn second-hand clothes in his life. But he had never been this poor. He determined to swallow his pride and take whatever he could in order to meet the deadline for his audition.

Solly Isaacs ran a little shop in Powis Street, selling all manner of uniforms, lounge suits and evening suits, mostly at affordable prices. Louis had always walked briskly past the shop, not wishing to make eye contact with anyone entering or leaving, as though the disgrace of buying second-hand clothes would embarrass them. He waited until he saw the shop was empty, took a deep breath, and went in.

Louis approached the counter where Solly was pinning up the hem on a pair of trousers. He waited patiently for Solly to serve him, though his instinct was to turn on his heels and go. But necessity drove him to wait until Solly could give him his undivided attention. Eventually, Solly put the trousers to one side and looked up at Louis.

‘Now, Sir, vot is it you vont?' Solly smiled showing a row of evenly sized false teeth.

‘Do you have any evening suits?'

‘Vi, of course. Vee have many, but depends on how quick. You have long legs. May have to alter.'

Louis had not reckoned on this and went to check the time on his now vacant wrist.

‘Do you have the time please?'

‘Vell of course, but first we find the right vuns, yes?'

‘No, I mean what
is
the time?'

‘Oi, yoi yoi, vell,' Solly checked his fob watch, rubbed his cardigan over the watch face as it had misted up and told Louis it was just after two o'clock.

‘Oh sweet Jesus, I need to get the suit now and if you would just show me a couple, I will do without the alterations, I really cannot spare the time.'

He was extremely anxious, knowing that if he waited for alterations he would never get to The Strand Palace Hotel by the appointed time. It would take him ages to cycle to London. He could, he supposed, go by train because if he got the job, he could afford that luxury. He would see how long this took before deciding.

‘Here ve have vone, I sinks, dis vone, yes?'

Solly held up an evening suit that had clearly seen too many evenings, but the jacket looked about the right size and as Louis would be sitting down playing, he thought the short legs would not matter.

The price ticket on the sleeve wasn't as expensive as he had expected, which meant he could afford to go to London by train.

‘Yes. Yes I'll take it.'

‘Oi yoi yoi, best try goods before buy, yes?'

‘I'm sorry, I don't have time. I have to be in London for an audition and I may miss it if I don't leave soon.'

‘Don't vorry, time is plentiful, better to get right, uddervise you be angry vis me and say I cheat you, yes?'

Solly took the jacket off the hanger and handed it to him.

Louis could see Solly was determined he should try it on, so feeling it was better to get on with it and save time arguing, he tried the jacket on.

‘It's fine. Yes I'll take it.'

‘Oi yoi yoi… yes now you put trousers on vid jacket, yes?'

‘Oh Good Heavens, I really don't have time for this.'

‘Yes, behind curtain plis,' Solly said, pulling aside the faded velvet curtain to reveal a makeshift dressing room. He smiled at Louis, making little waving gestures with his hands to hurry him into the dressing room.

Louis sighed as he discovered the trousers were about two inches above his ankles, even if he pulled the trousers down past his waist. He knew they were really not long enough and showed too much of his socks. Frustrated, he peeked round the curtain and beckoned for Solly to take a look.

‘Oi yoi yoi, this trouser has disagreement vid your shoes. Too short. Try more.'
Desperately, he pleaded with Solly, ‘I
really
don't have time. Can't you just let them down for me, you needn't even sew them?'

Solly scratched the side of his nose and looked at Louis. ‘Important huh?'

‘Yes,
very
important. I really have to get to London.'

‘Vell, take trousers off, I slit hems and you take vid you. Come back Monday and I sew. Yes?

‘Yes, anything, just put the suit in a bag. Thank you.'

Outside the shop, Louis checked the time on the clock tower and realised he had no time to pedal back to Eltham and change, so decided he would go directly to Woolwich Station, change into the evening suit in the toilets and catch the train to Charing Cross. He checked the station clock and felt that with luck he could just make it to the hotel in time.

Louis left his bicycle and old clothes in the Left Luggage place at Woolwich Station before boarding the next train to London.

Sitting in the carriage he suddenly realised with horror that he'd left his violin at home! He felt the familiar shaking begin and sweat broke onto his skin as he sat wondering what to do. He decided he would get off at the next station and cycle to his house, collect the violin, then cycle back and catch an onward train to London.

As the train pulled in at the next station, he opened the carriage door, jumped down onto the platform and walked briskly out of the station. The guard blew a whistle and the train moved off.

Outside the station, Louis stopped dead as it dawned on him that he had left his bicycle in Woolwich, and the train that would have taken him to London in time for the audition had just pulled out!

Louis returned to the railway platform and slumped down on an empty bench. A feeling of hopelessness swept over him. His nerves were in shreds and the trembling had not stopped.

A porter seeing him look so unwell sauntered towards him.

‘You all right mate?'

‘Yes. Thank you, I'll be fine in a moment.'

‘Well you don't look all right. Look as if you could do with a hot cup of tea.'

‘I'll be myself again in a few minutes. It's nothing really, result of being gassed in the war.'

‘Oh I see. Yers, I was out there meself. Lucky to be alive I'd say. How about that cup of tea then?'

‘No. Thanks all the same. When's the next train to Charing Cross?'

‘One along in about ten minutes Gov.'

‘I'll just sit here and wait for it. Thanks for the offer anyway.'

‘No trouble Gov'. Us vet'rans gotta stick togevver.' He cocked his head sideways, winked at Louis and wandered into the ticket office, closing the door behind him. The hands on the station clock moved towards six and Louis sat like a coiled spring waiting for the next train.

At ten minutes to seven, as Louis ran towards the doors of The Strand Palace Hotel, a doorman stepped forward and asked if he could help him.

‘I've got an audition with the orchestra.'

‘Have you indeed.' He looked Louis up and down. ‘And whom do you wish to meet?'

‘Mr. Andrews. He's expecting me.'

‘Wait here,' the doorman said, and went inside the hotel.

Louis' nerves were jangling, but when the man re-appeared and told him to enter the foyer, he quickly flicked a comb through his hair, feeling hopeful.

There was no sign of Mr. Andrews inside, so he went to the receptionist and asked where he was. She said she would make enquiries if he would care to take a seat in the foyer and wait.

She left the reception desk, went across the foyer and disappeared behind a half-glazed door. After a little while she re-appeared, followed by Mr. Andrews.

Louis stood up, smiled and lifted his hand to shake Roland Andrews', but dropped it when he saw the look on his face. Roland Andrews was within six inches of Louis' face when he hissed at him.

‘What time do you call this?'

‘I'm sorry; I've had a few problems. I got delayed.'

Roland Andrews frowned at Louis and poked him in the chest with his index finger.

‘When I say be here at six o'clock, I mean six o'clock on the dot. Not five past six, or quarter past or even half past and certainly not ten minutes to seven!' He stepped back and eyed Louis up and down.

Louis saw the look of derision on his face. He was acutely aware as he stood there in an ill-fitting evening suit, the trousers of which were flying at half-mast up his shins, that he must have looked ridiculous. Though Solly has slit the stitching on the hems, the material had crept back naturally to the original fold line leaving a distinctly large gap between his ankles and the bottom of the trousers.

‘A sorry sight you look young man. And where's your instrument?'

‘I forgot it.'

‘You
forgot
it? You
forgot
it?' Roland Andrews shook his head. ‘No. I'm sorry. We want reliable chaps in our orchestra, not people who just turn up when they think they will. The auditions finished twenty minutes ago and we've taken on a violinist who was here on time.'

Louis could not speak. His mouth opened, and then shut.

Roland Andrews turned away, but just before he disappeared through the door he turned to Louis. ‘
If
you are ever fortunate enough to be given an audition by anyone again, for God sake buy yourself a pair of trousers that fit!'

The return journey to Woolwich was slow and depressing, so after collecting his bicycle from the station, Louis still had the long ride home to Eltham.

Eventually he arrived at the house, but no longer having his watch, had no idea of the time – except it must be well into the evening as it was very dark.

As he opened the gate he could see by the light of his bicycle lamp that someone was sitting on the doorstep, but he couldn't make out who it was in the gloom.

‘Hello there, can I help you?'

From the doorstep, a large man uncoiled and stepped forward. ‘Hello Louis, ‘'tis only me, Michael.'

‘Oh Good Lord, Michael, what on earth are you doing here at this time of night?'

‘'Tis a long story Louis. Mind if I come in for a while?'

‘Of course not,' Louis smiled, glad of the company. Just wait there a minute and I'll put my bike away.'

Louis wheeled the bicycle to the back of the house and returned to open the front door.

‘What brings you here, Michael? Is anything wrong?'

Michael followed Louis inside and waited while he lit the oil lamp.

‘'Tis freezin'' in here Louis, will I light the fire?'

Louis didn't answer, so Michael asked again.

‘I said, shall I light the fire Louis?'

But instead of waiting for a reply, Michael then burst out laughing. ‘God above Louis, will ye look at the sight of ye. What in God's name have you got on there altogether? Is it a fancy dress costume?'

Louis sighed and sat down at the table.

‘Sit down Michael, it's rather a long story. If you've got the time to listen that is.'

He proceeded to tell Michael all about it; how he had gone busking to earn some money; was spotted by Roland Andrews and offered an audition; how he had fallen out with Lize and had to pawn some things to buy an evening suit, and finally how he lost the chance of playing in the orchestra.

‘So there you have it, Michael. I have an evening suit but no job and no money. I dread to think what Cat will say when she finds out.'

Michael grinned.

‘Does she have to know?'

Louis shot him a glance.

‘What do you mean, deceive her?'

Michael drew in his breath and sighed.

‘It depends which way ye look at it Louis. On the one hand ye could say ye were foolin' her by not tellin' her, and sure enough that would be deception. But on the other hand, if by not tellin' her, ye were savin' her feelings, ye know, sparin' her the worry like – then that would be a kinder thing to do, would it not?'