Free Anglo-Saxon Attitudes by Angus Wilson Page A

movement, but too quick to be sinister.
    'She's a lying little bitch,' he said. 'Have you got rid of her?'
    'I had it out with her about the pilchard tins,' Frank said petulantly.
    'Oh, Christ!' Vin exclaimed. 'You get on my tits.'
    He reached over for a box of chocolates from a small crescent-shaped table and, placing it in his lap, ate the chocolates slowly but greedily one by one as he talked.
    'You knew she was a filthy slut when you took her in. But you haven't got the guts to kick her out. All you can do is to nag and natter at the silly bitch.'
    He seized the apple-green silk cushions and punched them feebly, then, placing them behind him, he lay back languidly and half closed his eyes, looking at Frank through his long lashes.
    'Why don't you twist her arm or punch her face, if that's what you want?'  he drawled.
    Frank got up from a kneeling position and stood arms akimbo, a hammer held at his hip. He wore the broadminded smile with which he accompanied certain of his lectures.
    'Sex and violence - that's why you're only a waiter, Vin,' he said. 'Your dirty little imagination can't carry you any farther. You think you're so bloody smart, but your mind doesn't take in more than a quarter of what it could. Get what you can how you can. It's so bloody easy, and look where it gets you.'
    Vin stared at Frank like a young ruminating cow, then he held out the box of chocolates. 'Have one,' he said. 'They're marvellous.'
    His pronunciation of the word was like a mixture of a small boy's and a Kensington hostess's. He had as many variations of speech as had his grandmother. 'Crime doesn't pay,' he said, closing his eyes. 'I wonder you don't get tired of all that crap. You know why I'm just a waiter as well as I do. Because I don't want to get mixed up with the police again. If I liked to troll the 'Dilly like Larrie, I could live as grand as Madame de Pompadour, or pretty near.' He got up lazily and stretched his arms. 'I don't know what's the good of being good,' he said in a Shirley Temple simper. 'By the way,' he added, 'you'd better tell Larrie to lay off it. The silly ...'
    A large black face appeared round the door.
    'Ah, Mr Rummage,' said a deep West Indian voice, 'I want you to give me evidence. Gloria says she didn't have a man up there last night and I know she did. Did you see anyone go up?'
    'Now, Artie, landlords don't tell stories,' Frank said. 'You ought to know that.'
    'If I find her with some man, I'll spatter them both,' said the head and vanished.
    Frank called after him, 'And my name's not Rummage either, as you perfectly well know. ... Oh dear,' he said, 'I expect he will. They're as excitable as children, those West Indians,' and he clucked his tongue in disapproval.
    'I can't think why girls frequent them,' said Vin in refined tones. 'I shouldn't think of it,' he added. 'You won't see me for two days now, Frank. But don't let any of the dear lodgers use my room, see? We work late tonight and I'm going straight down to Gran's for Christmas.'
    'That's good,' said Frank. 'There's nothing like a family Christmas.'
    Without any relatives himself, he believed that family life infallibly spelt decent living. Vin said nothing this time, he just looked.
    'I've got a little present for you,' said Frank and, going to his desk, he produced a bright yellow tie.
    'Thank you,' said Vin. 'Funny how some boys like those bright ties. I haven't got a present for you,' he added. 'I don't see any sense in giving things to rich people; well, you tell Larrie ...'
    But once again there was interruption. 'Can I come in?'  said a very deep voice.
    'Of course, Major,' said Frank.
    A tired-faced, military-looking man with grey wavy hair and a much-cleaned, much-pressed check suit opened the door. 'Can you change this for me, Rammage? Left myself without anything over Christmas and it's too late to go up to the ruddy bank!'
    'I can do you ten,' said Frank, counting the money from a very full wallet.
    'Perfectly silly of me to have