The Crew Read Online Free PDF Page B

He’d gone in for some cigarettes, in the days before he’d taken up a pipe, and she’d been standing there behind the counter – all dressed-up like she was going to a party in a white frock and rows of beads. He’d fallen in love with her there and then. He’d gone back a lot more times and bought a whole lot of cigarettes he didn’t need before he’d finally screwed up the nerve to ask her out. It’d been a couple of years, though, before he’d found enough nerve to ask her to marry him. Luckily he’d had his steady job with the toy company and a bit put by, so he’d got something to offer, and Rita was tired of working in the tobacconist’s shop. She liked nice things and it had cost him a tidy penny to keep her happy because she got bored and restless so easily. He hadn’t minded, though. He’d thought she was worth it. And when Paulette had come along he’d felt like he was the luckiest bloke alive. He’d sooner have called the baby something simpler – Susan or Joan – but Rita had found the name in one of her film magazines and he’d gone along with it to please her, same as he always did.
    Then Rita had met another man: someone from down south with much more money than he had and with a house for her and Paulette to live in, not a poky rented flat. And that had been that. He’d let her divorce him because she’d said it would be best for Paulette, and he sent money regularly as clockwork for his daughter’s maintenance. But he hardly ever saw her. At first he’d tried travelling down south every fortnight or so and taking Paulette out for a day, but after a timehe’d come to realize that his daughter dreaded his visits. She hated wandering around the park, or sitting in tea-rooms, or doing any of the things he tried to think of that might please her, and when he returned her to the posh house in the avenue, she always ran in without a backward glance, as though she couldn’t get away from him quick enough.
    Sometimes he wondered what Rita had said about him to her, what stories she might have made up to set his daughter so much against him. One thing was very clear to him: he wasn’t wanted in their lives any more and, except for the payments, he wasn’t needed. He’d kept on visiting doggedly, but less often, and the older Paulette grew, the more she showed her contempt for him. Then the war had started and he had joined up. He’d given up the flat and spent his leaves at his parents’ semi on the outskirts of Huddersfield, sleeping on a divan in the bleak little spare room. He’d only seen Paulette half a dozen times in the past two years.
    Harry went on staring at the photo for a while before he put it away in his pocket. He pulled himself together. No point in dwelling on things. It wouldn’t do any good. Brace up and cheer up. The hut was no place to spend an evening so he’d pop along to the Mess and sink a pint or two. Maybe Jock and Stew were there. Funny about young Charlie sloping off like that on his own. Maybe he’d got some girl on the quiet, too. Happen the lad would surprise them all.
    Charlie got off his bike at the cottage gate. There was no name on it but it had a blue front door like Mum had said in her letter, and it was in the right place, on the other side of the drome. He leaned the bikeagainst the front hedge and padlocked it so nobody could nick it while he was inside. As he pushed open the gate, the door opened.
    â€˜Hallo, Charlie.’
    â€˜Hallo, Mum.’
    They stood looking at each other for a moment and then he moved forward quickly and gave her a hug. She searched his face. ‘You’re not angry with me?’
    â€˜
Angry?
Why would I be?’
    â€˜I know I shouldn’t have done it – not without telling you, anyway. Without asking you. You might not want me here.’
    â€˜It’s all right,’ he said gently.