Memoirs of a Dance Hall Romeo Read Online Free PDF

manner. We went down together in an untidy heap, rolling about on the lawn in the rain, with him trying to punch my head in.
    But help was on hand. There was Gloria’s umbrella, Pam’s handbag with which she flailed my assailant unmercifully about the head, and a small, bullet-headed man in shirt-sleeves who finally hauled him off me.
    Gloria helped me to my feet while the other two sorted out Sideboards. ‘Stupid, jealous bastard!’ I heard Pam say, and then she and the gentleman in shirt-sleeves hustled him inside and closed the door.
    I wiped mud from my face with my handkerchief. Gloria said calmly, ‘He’s a jealous devil is Ronnie. Can’t stand the idea of anyone seeing our Pam home. They had a row last Sunday so she wouldn’t go out with him tonight,’ she added by way of further explanation.
    ‘But I didn’t bring her home,’ I said in bewilderment. ‘Not the way you mean, anyway.’
    ‘But he thought you did,’ she said. ‘Gets in a blind rage when he’s in that mood. Only sees what he wants to see.’
    By this time the whole business had taken on the aspect of some privileged nightmare, especially when she added, with a touch of impatience, ‘Come on, let’s go into the greenhouse if we’re going. I’m getting soaked.’
    My cheek was beginning to hurt where he’d punched me, but it didn’t seem to matter in there, in the warm, paraffin-smelling darkness with the rain pattering against the glass roof.
    She leaned back against the wooden door, strangely indifferent as I unbuttoned her coat, my heart thumping, and pulled her against me. When I kissed her, it was not that her mouth was unresponsive, it was simply neutral in a curious way, and yet she allowed me to caress her body at will. Finally, greatly daring, I slipped both hands beneath her skirt. I stayed there for a while holding her, my body trembling, perilously close to the point of explosion.
    She said impatiently, ‘For God’s sake, don’t be all night about it.’
    I peered at her in puzzlement, her face a dim shadow in the light of the small oil lamp. ‘What did you say?’
    ‘Are you going to have it or aren’t you?’ she demanded, then pushed me away quite violently and picked up her handbag and umbrella. ‘Honestly, I don’t know why I bother. You’re all the same. It’s all you ever want and it doesn’t mean a damn thing to me.’
    She opened the door, pushed me outside, and I went meekly, utterly confused by this new vagary of female behaviour. When we reached the porch she said roughly, ‘We’ll say good night then,’ and disappeared inside.
    So that was very much that. I went out through the gate, down the cul-de-sac towards the main road, and started the long walk home through the heavy rain.
    The light was on in Jake’s room above the garage, in spite of the lateness of the hour, and I found him sitting by the fire reading a book. He made a fresh pot of tea and I dried myself by the hearth and recounted the evening’s events.
    ‘Poor Oliver,’ he said. ‘You’ve certainly had a night of it.’
    ‘But what was she playing at?’ I demanded.
    ‘God knows.’ He shrugged. ‘The female of the species comes in all shapes and sizes, old sport. Some of them just don’t take to the flesh at all.’
    ‘More likely she just didn’t take to me,’ I said morosely. ‘What did she expect, anyway?’
    ‘She probably thought you’d have it off in your trousers like a good boy and depart into the night, satisfied.’
    ‘The bitch!’ I said.
    ‘What you need, Oliver, is a good woman to take you in hand. Someone who’s been around long enough to know what it’s all about.’
    ‘And just where am I supposed to find someone like that?’
    He smiled. Try the Trocadero next Tuesday or Wednesday. Nothing like as crowded as Saturdays. It’s cheaper, too.’
    ‘Why should I be any more successful then than I’ve been tonight?’ I asked him.
    ‘Oh, you get a different brand of customer during the week. Give it