The Hive (8 page)

In the telephone booth, she pulled her blouse down more firmly over her breasts, and after a decent interval, went back to the bar, an expression of disappointment on her face.

He was still sitting there, and she sat down again, and reached for her gloves under the table. As an apparent afterthought she finished her drink, and then slowly began to pull her gloves on, pouting a little with obvious annoyance.

‘Not comin’, then, is ’e?’ the man said, watching her. She looked up, eyes wide.

‘I beg your pardon?’

‘Chap you was waitin’ for. Not comin’?’

She laughed a little. ‘I’m afraid not. That’s the trouble with doctors, isn’t it? So unreliable——’ she managed a small blush. ‘How did you know? I mean, that the person I was waiting for wasn’t coming?’

He looked expansive, a man of the world. ‘Well, stands to reason. Handsome lass like you—I’ve been watching you. Hope you don’t mind. But you look at your watch, and then you phone, and you come back looking put out a bit—well, stands to reason.’

‘You’re very observant.’

‘Well, got to be, my line o’ country. Got a lot of staff under me, you see. I got to learn to know what people are thinkin’ without them tellin’ me. Can’t pull wool over my eyes in a hurry.’

‘I can see that. Oh, well, I might as well go back, I suppose——’

There was a pause as she smoothed her gloves over her fingers, and as he only sat and watched her, she added, ‘That’s it for another week, I suppose. Waste of an evening, really.’

‘Well, there’s always tomorrow——’

‘Not for me. I only get one free evening a week,’ she pouted a little.

‘Do you so? What sort of job ’ave you got then? Only one night off a week—that’s not much cop, is it?’

‘You’re right there. But I’m a nurse, you see. All we ever get is one evening off.’

His eyes lit up, and then narrowed, and he shifted his chair a little nearer. ‘A nurse, are you? Well, well. Marvellous lasses, you are, marvellous. And only one night off a week—that’s ’ard. Lass like you—well, you ought to be out and about a lot, not tied up in a ‘ospital——’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she murmured. ‘Someone’s got to do it——’ She sighed, sketching a quick picture of an overworked nobility. ‘I’d better go, I suppose. An early night won’t do me any harm—though it’s a bit dull——’

‘Well, now, no need to rush off, is there? If your chap’s not comin’—silly feller——’

‘Oh, he couldn’t help it,’ she said quickly. There must be no hint that she had been abandoned wilfully. ‘He’s got an emergency you see. He’s—well, he’s rather miserable about it——’

‘I’ll bet ’e is. I’d be right sick if I was ’im. But I was goin’ to say—no need to rush off, is there? I’d be glad of a bit o’ company like, myself. I’m in London for a meetin’, see?’

He moved his shoulders proudly.

‘Management meetin’. My firm ’as one every year for district managers. I got the West Riding in my charge—busy it is, too, I’ll tell you that. But we finished business now—and I was just wonderin’ what to do—I could get an early train back, like, but that’s no game, is it? I mean, I’m down ’ere now. Thought I might go to a late show like, ’ave a bit o’ dinner, might even stop over till tomorrow——’

He leered slightly. ‘But I was just thinkin’—not much of an evenin’ on your own, is it? I like a bit o’ company, myself. Not one to talk to myself, I’m not——’ he laughed loudly, and she smiled dubiously at him.

‘Well, I don’t know——’

‘Tell yer what—’ave another drink with me, eh? And we can talk about it——’

He waved the barman towards them.

‘What are you ’avin’ now? Gin is that? Ah, come on, let’s ’ave somethin’ a bit better’n that—’ow about one o’ these cocktails like? Pink Lady, now, or—’ere—there’s this Monkey’s Gland—now that sounds a bit of all right, don’t it?’ He roared with laughter. ‘Put the lead in your pencil, that will—we’ll ’ave two o’ them, lad——’ and the barman looked bored, and went away.

He hitched his chair even closer to her, and offered her a cigarette. ‘Well, now, ’ow about a gasper, eh?’

He leaned close to light it, and his knee pressed against hers. She didn’t move away and his leg stayed pressed against hers even after he had put his lighter in his pocket.

‘What’s your name, then, love? Got to be friendly, ’aven’t we?’

‘Mary,’ she said. ‘Mary Cotton.’ It amused her to use the most unlikely name she could, and Mary’s was one she often used. It added a piquancy to the situation.

‘Mary—now, there’s a fine old name——’ he hummed a few bars of the song. ‘Favourite name o’ mine, Mary—they call me Bill—William—Weston, that’s my name,’ and she noticed the faint hesitation before he said it and was amused.

‘Probably Higginbottom,’ she thought, ‘and taking no chances on ever being traced after tonight. Dirty old sod——’

‘That’s a nice name too——’ she said, and hummed a few bars of ‘He’s just my Bill’ so that he laughed admiringly.

‘Ooh, you’re quick, Mary, you are that. I’d forgotten that song. I tell you what, if you like a bit o’ music, what do you say we take in a show like? Fond o’ the theayter and the films, I am. You belong to London, like, so you choose, eh? Would you like that?’

‘Well, I shouldn’t really—I mean, I don’t know you——’

‘Eh, lass, you needn’t fear me! I’m a friendly chap, that’s all—all on me own in London, and wantin’ a bit o’ company, that’s all. It’d be a kindness to me, it would that—and I can promise you there’s nothin’ your own mother’d mind, goin’ to a theayter wi’ me——’

‘I haven’t got a mother,’ she said softly. ‘They were—both killed in the Blitz——’

‘Eh, I’m sorry to ’ear that, I am really.’ He put one hand over hers. ‘Poor little lass—all on your own in the world——’

She smiled bravely. ‘I’ve got my job——’

‘And a right good job it is!’ he said heartily. ‘It’ll be a real pleasure to me to give you a bit o’ fun—I tell you what—when my dad died, a few years back, the nurses what looked after ’im—they were grand lasses, too, and I couldn’t do nothin’ to show ’em I was grateful. You let me take you out tonight for them, eh? Sort o’—well, payin’ a debt, eh? How does that sound?’

‘Well, I
am
on my own, with Giles working tonight—and it would be a bit miserable going back so early——’

‘Then that’s settled, Mary, that’s settled. You drink up, now. I’ll—er—I’ll go and book a room ’ere for meself—won’t feel like getting a train ’ome after we been out, will I? I’ll stay ’ere the night—nice hotel, it is? Look after you well ’ere do they?’

‘I think so—I’ve never stayed here myself, of course—couldn’t afford it, even if I didn’t live in hospital——’

‘You ought to try it sometime—nice staying in an ’otel. If they look after you. Anyway, I’ll try it——’

He took her to see a late film, sitting in the best seats.

‘Expense no objection with me, lass,’ he told her expansively. ‘And it’s only once a year I get down ’ere, after all——’

He bought her chocolates, and held her hand in the darkness and she made no demur. By the time they reached the hotel again, where Bill said they’d ‘ ’ave a right slap-up dinner’ they were on very good terms. He ordered champagne with their steaks, and told her several stories which became more and more smutty as the champagne went down in the bottle, holding her hand over the table between mouthfuls of food, and leering at her more and more obviously.

She giggled a lot, behaving as though the champagne had made her drunk, and began to tell a few smutty jokes herself, which made him roar his loud laugh again.

When they got to the coffee stage, and the waiter suggested brandy he ordered doubles for them both, and when he had drunk his, throwing it down as though it had been beer, he leaned over the table and grinned blearily at her.

‘You nurses—grand lasses, you are. And you know your way about, too, I’ll be bound. Eh? No flies on you, Mary.’

She dimpled at him. ‘Bill, if you mean what I think you mean—well, you’re a reel bad lad——’

This essay at his own accent delighted him.

‘Well, I’m not goin’ to say I’m any angel, Mary love, I’m no angel. Man o’ the world, that’s me—and I’m thinkin’ you’re a woman of the world. My type, you are. Pretty lass, lots of fun—and no silly ideas about—well, what the parsons are always on about——’

‘Parsons?’

‘Eh, you know. Stop you ’avin’ a bit o’ fun because they don’t know the good of it themselves, eh? That’s not your idea o’ livin’ I’ll be bound——’

‘You’re only young once——’ She sounded very tipsy, and he grinned triumphantly.

‘That’s what I say. Now, look, love. That bloody waiter—‘e’s lookin’ at us like ’e’d prefer our room to our company. What do you say we go up to my room, and ’ave another little drink, eh? We can talk there—get to know each other properly, like——’

‘I ought to be getting back to the hospital, really.’

He looked anxious. ‘You ’ave to sign in or somethin’?’

‘Oh, no. As long as I’m on duty at eight tomorrow, no one will mind—but——’

He looked triumphant.

‘Then there’s no ’urry, is there—and I’ll tell you what. I’d like to give you a little present——’

‘A present?’

He looked foxy, and grinned.

‘There’s a little somethin’ I got in my bag—you’ll see—I left it wi’ the receptionist.’

He made her wait by the lifts while he went across the lobby, and he came back towards her with his overnight bag in his hand.

‘You’ll like this, you will. Got it for—me sister, like. But I can get ’er some chocolates tomorrer, instead——’

‘What is it?’ she tucked her hand into the crook of his arm, and tried to take the bag from him.

‘Eh, patience, lass, patience. You’ll see—come on now——’

When they reached his room, he sat down on the narrow white bed, and grinned at her.

‘Now, what do I get for this little thing, eh? What do I get?’

‘Shall I say a pretty please?’ she said, sitting down next to him and running a finger along the back of his hand.

‘I’d rather ’ave a pretty kiss——’ He grabbed for her awkwardly, and they struggled for a moment before he managed to reach her mouth.

She pulled away, a little sickened by the reek of brandy and tobacco on his breath, but not showing it.

‘You’re awful Bill, really you are——’ she giggled again, still behaving as though she were tipsy. ‘But now you’ve got to give it to me——’

He opened his case and took a blue and white striped paper bag from it.

She grabbed it and opened it, to pull out a nightdress, made of very sheer pink and black lace, and she clapped her hands delightedly.

‘Ooh, Bill, it’s lovely! Is it really for me? I shouldn’t take it, really I shouldn’t—but it is lovely—your sister’s a lucky woman getting presents like this——’

‘Eh, she fancies ’erself she does. But it wouldn’t look so good on ’er as it would on you——’

He grinned, and looked at her sideways.

‘You’d better try it on, ’adn’t you?’

‘What, now?’

‘Well, why not? Lass like you—a nurse and all that—you aren’t shy, are you? Pretend I’m
your
brother——’

‘Some brother——’ she giggled again.

‘I said pretend——’ he laughed again. ‘Go on—show your Bill how it looks—I can imagine ’ow, mind you——’ he threw his hand out so that it moved across her breasts. ‘But imagination’s not much cop, is it, eh? You put it on——’

‘With you watching? Ooh, I couldn’t——’

‘I’ll turn me back then——’

‘I’ll tell you what—I’ll go to the bathroom, shall I? I can put it on there, and I’ll come back. I won’t be so shy, then. And as soon as you’ve seen it fits, I’ll go back and get dressed
again——’

He grinned. ‘Aye, lass. As soon as I’ve seen it fits, you do that—and I’ll get something to sup up here while you’re doin’ it——’

He sniggered and put an arm round her again. ‘And watch out for the waiter with the drinks, when you come out of the bathroom. Strictly a private view, this, eh?’

She giggled too, and took the bag with the nightdress, and slipped out of the room to the bathroom along the corridor.

There was no one about, only the thick silence and heavy smell of scent and shoe polish that filled the brightly lit corridors showing that the huge building was occupied at all. At the bathroom door, she looked back to see him at the bedroom door, and with a coquettish wave of her hand she disappeared inside.

After a moment she peered out. His door was shut now, and she moved quickly and silently towards the stairs, to run silently down the heavily carpeted treads to the lobby. As she reached the lifts at the bottom, she saw a waiter with a tray with a bottle of whisky and two glasses waiting, and grinned wickedly to herself as she went out of the revolving doors into the rain-wet street outside.

She went back by underground, sitting in the swaying almost empty train, gazing at the pipes on the wall outside dipping and lifting, a smile on her face as she talked to herself inside her head.

‘He’s probably sitting there in his underwear, panting. Opening the bottle and having one while he waits. Silly fat sod—all of a flap, wondering where I am. And he’ll go along to the bathroom, and he’ll know he’s been sold—I wish I could watch it—it’s a nice nightie. Best evening for a long time. I’ll try the Strand next time. Or p’raps a restaurant—that Chinese one in Wardour Street—they have interesting people there—I’ll tell Swinton tomorrow—Christ, I will, sarky bitch. Much she knows—I’ll tell her—and if no one sees me come in, I’ll say I made a night of it, came back for breakfast——’

She relaxed into a happy imagined conversation with Swinton, hearing herself regaling her with details, all sorts of lovely snippets, and as she thought of the details she would tell
Swinton, her skin moved pleasurably under her clothes, and the muscles of her thighs tightened against the rough cloth of her skirt, and her eyes glazed.

In her imagination, she was no longer telling Swinton the details. She was living them, and it was all very enjoyable.

It was a pity, French thought, that he had to be so precipitate in the matter of the dinner party. To invite Elizabeth to meet Jennifer within her first week at the Royal might give Elizabeth cause for complacency; she might think he wanted her to meet his wife as soon as possible, to clear the way, as it were, for the resumption of their old friendship.