and then i have been to the saturday matinee at the rialto or one of them. it would get so stinking warm. all those boys hollering in the dark, and if the reel snapped, why the uproar it was enough to burst your. then the stamping and all of them counting together, one big rising pack chanting and stamping till it got spliced and whoosh there was the pretty girl again wrapped up on the tracks. sucking acid drops after interval. some blew up paper bags and burst them and the worst threw bungers. we had buttered crumpets and strawberry ice cream soda for sixpence at bright lights near the strand arcade afterwards and mother would say i think perhaps we will not do that again.
dad was in the living room playing backgammon with mr george when we got home and miss fox was there and mrs rich and mr harwood, and mrs pickburn, perhaps, and langland and john busby. where have you been ma ptite.
mother suggests a boy threw rotten egg gas in the second half and it was a shame. it was after all someones son.
that sullivan is an enterprising devil mr harwood said, scratching the back of his neck and rolling his right foot to let a little air in.
osullivan, said langland. he lost that getting off the boat in london. probably hoped no one else picked it up too. he went to school at the marist brothers you know. was there with him. theyre a part of st marys, maam, just here in the loo. now where did he get a wild idea like that i dont know.
peter felix, said mr george. checkmate, no, pardon, i win. do you remember peter felix. i believe he fought here in the state heavyweight championship in o nine. he dressed himself head to toe in black. it was a sort of stocking i suppose. gave me a real fright. he terrified all the children. truly, you dont believe me. cozens spencer told me, you know cozens spencer who built the rushcutters bay studios, filmed jack johnson knock tommy burns teeth out, you remember that. well he told me crazy pat got the idea watching peter felix. i dont say. in any case that is what i heard. you dont have to believe me.
im sure i dont know where a wild idea like that comes from.
how are you liking your new home mrs rose.
i was just saying to peter this morning how lovely i find it. its a wonderful building, even quite beyond my expectations. we were so fortunate mr alberts friends happened to leave when they did, i really dont know a place in town id rather be.
ah but can you sing and dance like franks friends.
if you please, madame riche, an alto like mr roses is not to be found every day among the non professional classes. a command of feeling that, well, if you dont mind, for a banker.
mr george.
je marrete la. oh. he struck his forehead. i was almost going to leave it behind incognito. listen, ma puce, guess what, i have prepared a little surprise. do you want to know what it is. can you guess where i have hid it. mon grand drageoir. theres something in there with your name on it.
you are not to touch it now, chick.
but i want to see her face.
she has just had crumpets and strawberry ice cream.
what is it.
you know perfeclty well.
it is only the good old cacao like mum makes.
what did you say.
a little sweetened. they are only her what do you call them. she will get a new set in any case. all the better to see candy with.
may i ask how you found the apartment.
my wife. word of mouth. she has her associates here longer than i have.
yes of course, many of the tenants at the astor are country folk. perhaps youve met my ruby.
im sorry to say i havent, mrs rich. it was my brother in fact who put us on to it. hes known the alberts for some time.
how nice. im sure the character of host suits the alberts terribly well. i can hardly bring myself to call them landlords. have you been up to the little cinema yet. well, the next soiree you are in for a treat. and the company needless to say is divine. no stink bombs up there i can assure you.
they buy into the astor dont they. one takes shares. is it like that here. it seems a very efficient way of conducting the business. what do you say, mr george, its the air of the times. that was quite an end to the year, mr rose. have you noticed how the domestic interior is beginning to take cues from industry. no more fitted carpets. i could only wish they had shops on the lower floors as they do below the temperance and general insurance company apartments. fitzgerald had a fine idea but one has to know when to be an integralist, no mr rose. to my mind it would have been a happier use of the street level property in an area like this, any chance to open it up on rational principles. the townhouses appear mercifully on their way to falling down by their own volition. it was quite inspired of albert to buy up this place. he told me he first considered it when he read an article more than a decade ago called the profit possibilities of tall buildings, and now, well, it has to be seen to be believed, but there are more projects in the pipeline for this year than there have ever been. the prospect certainly looks clear. i mean with the price of primary products, and the foreign loans. now the obstacles to a central bank have toppled. the department stores are extending credit to the working class. it does look promising doesnt it, i mean, and it is stable.
as long as we stay on gold.
gold! with a money market this tight and the price of wool in this house itll be wealth riding on the
dad smiled at mr harwood who had been bending towards his ear, though mr harwood stopped short and said they havent been in the fires have they. no said dad and ran his hand over the top of his mouth and put his other on my shoulder and said shall we see if we can fit on the balcony, a breeze seems to be coming on and i think these ladies might enjoy the relief of our company a moment. you two have had quite an excursion for such a scorcher.
naturally i snuck into the hall and pushed up the lid of the hallstand and stuck my head in and poked around until i found the box of californian chocolates. is that right. i may be jumping ahead. they came in a lovely large cedar box. they were called starck chocolates and had the shape of umbrellas and cars and coins and cigarettes. the umbrellas had little plastic handles. mother who was coming back in from having laid on the kettle grabbed me by the back of the neck and beat me quite savagely with the first rod she could get her hand on. later the heat really broke up and there was an electrical storm. that was the year the biggest hailstone fell in potter, nebraska. there were electrical storms in those days. we used to put away all the silver and cover the mirrors with sheets. sometimes there was a fireball, which was really a luminous ball that appeared where the lightning was going to strike and travelled slowly in a horizontal line with a hissing noise and then exploded but there was no fireball that time.
for a while on the days mother went out alone i was minded by miss fox. look she would say faking to draw an egg from behind my ear. she cracked it into a bowl. from the bench where i sat i tip the milk jar until i am satisfied. what need all this cookery. the smell of sulphur and a piece of butter frothing in the pan can still recall to me those evenings. scent the persistent reminiscent. her omelettes were hell but you have to be bought up on something.