posture, between two strangers, here is my fixture, here is my arrangement, when I am at home, when I am alone, not needing to arrange, I have my allies, I have my objects, I have my cat, I have my carpet, I have my land, this is a kingdom, there is no betrayal, there is no trust, there is no journey, they make no hole in my side.
They make a hole, in my side.
The bell split in the room. Len rose. He pushed aside books on the table, lifted the tablecloth, nudged the cat aside, and stood still. He felt deep into the body of the armchair, lifted the cushions, tapped along the windowsill, pulled the curtains to and stood still. The bell rang. He inspected the mantelpiece and knelt down to examine the hearth, crawled under the table and found the floor bare. He stood up and still. The bell rang. He moved to the dresser and emptied a bowl of letters, lifted a cup from its saucer and, shuddering, looked down at his feet. His eye caught a reflection, his chin drew in further. In the top pocket of his jacket were his glasses. He put them on, walked up the stairs to the front door and opened it.
- What were you doing? Mark asked, a wardance? I could see your shadow bobbing up and down.
- How could you see my shadow?
- Through the letterbox.
In the street, the rain slipped through the darkness.
- What did you say the time was? Len asked.
- Well, Mark said, it’d be getting on for that.
- You’d better come in.
In the room Mark took off his raincoat and sat heavily in the armchair, arranging the cushions.
- What’s this, a suit? Where’s your carnation?
- What do you think of it? Mark asked.
Len fingered the lapels, opened the jacket and looked inside.
- It’s not a shmatta, he said.
- It’s got a zip at the hips.
- A zip at the hips? What for?
- Instead of a buckle. It’s neat.
- Neat? I should say it’s neat.
- No turn-ups.
- I can see that. Why didn’t you have turn-ups?
- It’s smarter without turn-ups.
- Of course it’s smarter without turn-ups.
- I didn’t want it double-breasted.
- Double-breasted? Of course you couldn’t have it double- breasted.
- What do you think of the cloth?
- The cloth? What a piece of cloth. What a piece of cloth. What a piece of cloth. What a piece of cloth. What a piece of cloth.
- You like the cloth?
- W HAT A PIECE OF CLOTH!
- What do you think of the cut?
- What do I think of the cut? The cut? The cut? What a cut! What a cut! I’ve never seen such a cut!
He sat down and groaned.
- Do you know where I’ve just been? Mark said.
- Where?
- Earls Court.
- Uuuuhh! What were you doing there? That’s beside the point.
- What’s the matter with Earls Court?
- It’s a mortuary without a corpse.
Yawning, Len took off his glasses and pressed his knuckles to his eyes. Mark lit a cigarette and walked about the room, peering, his arm outstretched.
- What are you doing, dedicating a bull?
- That’s right.
He found an ashtray and sat down.
- How did you get back, allnight bus?
- Of course.
- Which one?
- A 297 to Fleet Street. A 296 from there.
Len stood up to let the cat out the back door. He glanced outside and shut the door quickly.
- I can get you from Notting Hill Gate to here in an hour to the minute, he said.
- You can get me ?
- It’s simple. Perfect. Any time of the night. Say you’re atNotting Hill Gate at 1:52, no, it’s Shepherds Bush at 1:52, say you’re at Notting Hill Gate at 1:56 or 1:57, you can catch a 289 which gets to Marble Arch at about 2:05, or 6, about 2:06 and there, before you know where you are, you can pick up a 291 or 294, coming from the Edgware Road, gets to Marble Arch about 2:07. What did I say? That’s right. That’s it. You catch that to the Aldwych, gets there about 2:15 or 14 and at 2:16 you can pick up the 296 from Waterloo, takes you all the way to Hackney. If it’s after three o’clock you can do the whole lot on a workman’s ticket.
- Thanks very much, Mark said. What are you doing at Notting Hill
They make a hole, in my side.
The bell split in the room. Len rose. He pushed aside books on the table, lifted the tablecloth, nudged the cat aside, and stood still. He felt deep into the body of the armchair, lifted the cushions, tapped along the windowsill, pulled the curtains to and stood still. The bell rang. He inspected the mantelpiece and knelt down to examine the hearth, crawled under the table and found the floor bare. He stood up and still. The bell rang. He moved to the dresser and emptied a bowl of letters, lifted a cup from its saucer and, shuddering, looked down at his feet. His eye caught a reflection, his chin drew in further. In the top pocket of his jacket were his glasses. He put them on, walked up the stairs to the front door and opened it.
- What were you doing? Mark asked, a wardance? I could see your shadow bobbing up and down.
- How could you see my shadow?
- Through the letterbox.
In the street, the rain slipped through the darkness.
- What did you say the time was? Len asked.
- Well, Mark said, it’d be getting on for that.
- You’d better come in.
In the room Mark took off his raincoat and sat heavily in the armchair, arranging the cushions.
- What’s this, a suit? Where’s your carnation?
- What do you think of it? Mark asked.
Len fingered the lapels, opened the jacket and looked inside.
- It’s not a shmatta, he said.
- It’s got a zip at the hips.
- A zip at the hips? What for?
- Instead of a buckle. It’s neat.
- Neat? I should say it’s neat.
- No turn-ups.
- I can see that. Why didn’t you have turn-ups?
- It’s smarter without turn-ups.
- Of course it’s smarter without turn-ups.
- I didn’t want it double-breasted.
- Double-breasted? Of course you couldn’t have it double- breasted.
- What do you think of the cloth?
- The cloth? What a piece of cloth. What a piece of cloth. What a piece of cloth. What a piece of cloth. What a piece of cloth.
- You like the cloth?
- W HAT A PIECE OF CLOTH!
- What do you think of the cut?
- What do I think of the cut? The cut? The cut? What a cut! What a cut! I’ve never seen such a cut!
He sat down and groaned.
- Do you know where I’ve just been? Mark said.
- Where?
- Earls Court.
- Uuuuhh! What were you doing there? That’s beside the point.
- What’s the matter with Earls Court?
- It’s a mortuary without a corpse.
Yawning, Len took off his glasses and pressed his knuckles to his eyes. Mark lit a cigarette and walked about the room, peering, his arm outstretched.
- What are you doing, dedicating a bull?
- That’s right.
He found an ashtray and sat down.
- How did you get back, allnight bus?
- Of course.
- Which one?
- A 297 to Fleet Street. A 296 from there.
Len stood up to let the cat out the back door. He glanced outside and shut the door quickly.
- I can get you from Notting Hill Gate to here in an hour to the minute, he said.
- You can get me ?
- It’s simple. Perfect. Any time of the night. Say you’re atNotting Hill Gate at 1:52, no, it’s Shepherds Bush at 1:52, say you’re at Notting Hill Gate at 1:56 or 1:57, you can catch a 289 which gets to Marble Arch at about 2:05, or 6, about 2:06 and there, before you know where you are, you can pick up a 291 or 294, coming from the Edgware Road, gets to Marble Arch about 2:07. What did I say? That’s right. That’s it. You catch that to the Aldwych, gets there about 2:15 or 14 and at 2:16 you can pick up the 296 from Waterloo, takes you all the way to Hackney. If it’s after three o’clock you can do the whole lot on a workman’s ticket.
- Thanks very much, Mark said. What are you doing at Notting Hill
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