Free The Flyer by Stuart Harrison Page B

declared the man on her other side, whose name was Hodges. ‘I never heard a truer word spoken, nor by a finer woman than yourself, as I’ve said many a time before and meant it, every word.’
    Across the table, Johnson glared at him.
    William was the last to be served, by which time all that remained on the plate was a piece of fat with a few slivers of meat attached to it. The vegetables were pale, overcooked cabbage and grey mashed potato. The meal looked worse than anything he’d experienced at school, but he was so hungry he ate it anyway, and listened with fascination to the duel of words between Johnson and Hodges, who both seemed determined to outdo one another in the amount of lavish praise they heaped upon their landlady. To William’s ears not a word of it sounded genuine, but Mrs Hall appeared to regard the flattery both as justified and entirely sincere.
    During the lulls, the younger man, Carter, kept up a continuous account of his day, even though the others seemed largely disinterested. He was a travelling salesman for a firm of ironmongers whose job took him all over the county. He explained to William that since he travelled so much, it was convenient for him to reside at Mrs Hall’s whenever he was in his home-town.
    ‘I like to stay in ‘omely sort of lodgings when I’m travelling,’ he said with a wink. ‘Though there’s none to compare with Mrs Hall’s ‘ospitality. And bein’ a regular I can count on getting looked after, isn’t that true Mrs Hall?’
    ‘I daresay it is,’ she agreed.
    Carter was drinking wine from a bottle that was brought to the table half full, though everyone else drank water. He offered some to William, and before William could respond, poured him half a glass.
    ‘I always like a bit of wine with my supper, I do. The French ‘ave wine with their meals, you know. I travel to the continent sometimes you see, with my work. I expect you know about all that sort of thing anyway, William. I can see you’re a young man of refinement, like myself.’
    He winked and glanced at Johnson and Hodges, who were both concentrating on their meals and pretending not to listen.
    ‘Yes, I ‘ad a very good day,’ Carter went on as if somebody had asked him. ‘I always do well around Northampton, I ‘ave to say. Why, I expect my commission was at least twenty five bob if I worked it out. Not bad for a day’s work eh, William?’
    Johnson cleared his throat. ‘I’m always surprised you don’t stay at The Grand, Carter, since you’re doing so well,’ he said acidly.
    ‘What, and miss Mrs Hall’s ‘ospitality? I shouldn’t think so. I think of this place as like my own ‘ome, in a way.’
    He winked at Mrs Hall, who pretended not to notice though the faintest trace of colour touched her cheeks.
    ‘One of these days I might just stay here permanent, like. Get myself a position in a local firm,’ Carter added.
    This remark was greeted with pained silence by Hodges and Johnson. After supper was finally over, Carter went outside to smoke in the evening air and invited William to join him. They stood on the step by the front door.
    ‘What are you doin’ here then, William, if you don’t mind me asking?’
    William found himself telling Carter about his father’s death, and how before that he’d been at Oundle. ‘Now I’m looking for some sort of work.’ He told him about the interview at the brewery. ‘The man I saw said it was because I didn’t have experience, but I’m sure I could have done the work easily enough. He just didn’t seem to like me for some reason.’
    ‘Course you could do the work,’ Carter said. ‘That’s what he was worried about. A young man like yourself, with a proper education and manners like a gentlemen, he’d have been scared that if he took you on you’d ‘ave your eye on his job before he knew it.’
    Carter advised him to try and make himself look a bit more ordinary. ‘Look at that suit your wearin’ for instance. I’ll