Free The Beat by Simon Payne

and still no sign of Sue. She couldn’t still be in the toilets. Surreptitiously he left his work and started to make his way along to the toilets. He could at least get one of the girls to go in and see what had happened to her. As he passed Wilson’s office a voice called him in.
    “Won’t keep you a minute Gerry. I’m sure you have lots to keep you busy. Just thought I’d let you know I sent Sue to lie down for a while. You can keep up on your own, can’t you?” Of course he could, but he would rather do it off his own bat, than as an order. After all, he usually did. At least nothing more was said about upsetting Connie. He had stoically not said anything to her and was expecting to be pulled into line again over it. When Wilson had called out, he had expected the worst. Still it was a bloody cheek the way they expected his support after Monday’s reprimand. Wilson had always been a sucker for a pretty face, as long as she was kept junior to himself. He reminded Gerry of a teacher he had once had, who used to let the girls stand on a chair to clean the blackboard. It made their uniforms rise as they reached up to rub the board and the old boy had relished every rise and sway. By morning tea time the whole office knew that the wedding was off. Both Pauline and Connie had been to tend to the needs of the shocked girl. Their diverse styles had ranged from, “He wasn’t worth having anyway love”, to Connie’s more dour, “At least she had one. She doesn’t want to end up an old maid.”
    “Old maid my arse,” countered Pauline.
    “Or worse,” Connie added pointedly, her eyes on Pauline’s rolls of flesh. Gerry was hoping to be able to stay outside of the whole affair but when he went into the tea room there wasn’t a space left for him to sit on his own. He had the choice of Neil or Pauline. Needless to say he chose Pauline. She was looking unusually solemn as she sat enveloping the chair beneath her humour-loving thighs. Between their thick, black lines her eyes were alert to all the gossip that filled the air. Old Gerry would be the only one not to know. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, as Sue claimed. Gerry just wouldn’t have registered. She sipped her tea and greeted him.
    “You’ve heard about Sue, poor girl?”
    “Yes, Steve told me on Monday evening.” The lines drawn around Pauline’s eyes were stretched apart with surprise.
    “You saw Steve on Monday evening? Christ, I’d shut up about that round here. They’ll lynch you Gerry if they find out.” Pauline jumping in with her big mouth. She’d never acknowledged before that they all thought him queer. Now it had all popped out. He looked surprised.
    “Oh, I’m sorry Gerry.” She shrugged her arms hopelessly and the flesh wobbled in echoes down to her reverberating chair. To her surprise he smiled.
    “I don’t mind. I’m sure Connie would lead the lynching mob — but Steve? He’s not my type.”
    “It’s strange, isn’t it? He always seems such a nice kid.” “Nice kids break engagements too.”
    “Yeah, I suppose so. Only I’m a romantic, you know Gerry. Always believing in Mr Right.” He egged her on, “So am I.” She couldn’t help it. “Oh,” she squealed and down thudded her palms onto those famous thighs. People turned and looked. It wasn’t suitable behaviour on this day of grief. Austerity was the order of the day. Connie looked over.
    “Pauline! What if the girl was to hear you? After all she’s going through. The man ought to be horsewhipped.” “Probably a lucky escape for both of them,” Gerry crossed her. Pauline’s eyes darted back and forth waiting for the retort. She secretly loved to see Connie crossed. The old wowser was bitchy enough about her when her back was turned. Connie drew herself up with assumed dignity. “Well, that’s what you would expect of you men. You all stick together.” Only Connie would see Gerry as one of the boys, for she was incapable of seeing beyond. It was a