The confidence tricks they had worked on George had only been successful due to the amount of blackmail and general mayhem which had been threatened, though after each stunt she had told herself that she should love them and make allowances, because hadn’t her father said it was their duty to help less fortunate people, since the Bible said so?
But George’s brothers did not seem to fit this condition, especially after they had openly robbed you. To help those who couldn’t help themselves was laudable and necessary, because they might then co-operate so that some good would come; but to subsidize those who continually complained, telling you to shut your trap and mind your own business and that when they wanted your sanctimonious advice they’d bloody well ask for it but in the meantime what the bleeding hell were you doing not suffering under the same irritations that they were forced to complain about – was not feasible. Why, they’d want to know with all moral conviction, should you get away with it when they had to put up with it? It’s all very well you standing there – they’d say – and telling us to get out of difficulties by our own efforts, but in the meantime you’re a lot better off than us, so what the bloody hell are you going to do about it, eh?
To complain was not only their life-blood but as often as not a tactical manoeuvre for getting something they wanted but had no right to. All they could do about an irksome situation was complain, as if that were the only way of tolerating it. They grumbled in the face of adversity, whereas real hardship would never have left them time for complaining. After a general election, when there had been a change of government, she recalled that Alf had said to her: ‘Now let’s see what this bunch of robbing cut-throats do for us. The last lot did bogger-all.’
She asked what he would like them to do.
‘Well,’ he said, ‘they could drop the council house rents for a start, couldn’t they? Then they could tek summat off beer and fags.’
‘What about road tax?’
He had forgotten that. ‘They ought to halve it. It’s a bleeding shame how they never do ote for yer, in’t it?’
She asked what he and his brothers intended doing for them.
‘Well, I suppose yo’ would ask that, wouldn’t yer? It’s all right for yo’ and George.’
‘Why is it? You’ve got a house and a car, just like us.’
‘Ar,’ he said, ‘but you own your house.’
‘We might in twenty years. We’re paying off a mortgage at the moment.’
‘And your car’s new.’
She laughed. ‘It goes wrong just as often as yours.’
Those who didn’t grumble generated sufficient energy to get clear of their difficulties. The best thing was to keep your sense of humour, though she and George had been unable to laugh on being trapped in their sitting-room by his three brothers and realizing there was no way out of giving them some work to do.
Yet George was sensibly horrified at the idea of them being set on to paint his workshop, a situation to be avoided even if they sat in his front room half the night before agreeing to leave. ‘I’ll think about it in the next few days. But I’m sure I’ll come up with something for you to do,’ he said, as if this generous promise would satisfy them.
But it was seen as a weakness, and instead of getting up to go home Bert signalled the others to stay where they were, and then found himself with a further suggestion to make: ‘While we was passing’ – he put the empty cup to his lips for the third time, and paused to spit tea leaves into the ashtray, some of which went on to the rug – ‘I saw that your factory yard was full of ruts. That paving’s in a shocking condition. Must be a proper swamp in winter. If one of your employees broke his ankle on a pot-hole you might have a nice whack of compo to pay. I know you’re insured, but you’d lose your no-claims bonus, and that’d come to a packet with a factory like yourn. Don’t look glum, George. It need never happen. The three of us could repave your yard. Dead easy. We ain’t done that sort of work before, I know, but we was only looking at some blokes the other week laying a car park at some offices in Mansfield. We’d do it a treat. I know a chap who’s got some hardcore. We’d hire a roller. And in no time at all your yard would be smoother than a school playground. That’d be extra from the painting, though, but it would only cost you about two hundred on top. It’s got to be done sooner or later. Next year it’ll cost more. Have it done now, and it’s a bargain.’
Alf and Harry indicated they would like more tea, otherwise they wouldn’t get home, with their throats in the state they were. Pam said she had run out of water, not to mention tea leaves. If they were so dry they had better get to the pub, where they might be in time for a pint before it closed. Beer was the only liquid that would slake such a thirst, she said, providing they tipped enough into themselves for it to slop out of their ears.
Oh she had a way of getting at them, they laughed, but they knew she wasn’t as stiff-necked as they’d heard. She was really a good sort who didn’t mean half of what she said, otherwise their brother George would never have married her.
George also laughed. He then decided that his factory yard was paved well enough to last another five years, except for one or two worn patches.
‘It’s your decision,’ Bert said.
He hoped his fatigue didn’t show. ‘It is.’
‘I’ll tell you what,’ Bert resumed. ‘Let’s have the paths around your house paved, and the inside of the garage. We’d like to try our hand at a little job like that. It’d only cost seventy-five quid. We’ll do the crazy-paving while we’re at it.’
Pam opened the door wide to let smoke disperse. ‘Why don’t you go home?’
Alf’s fragile and injured good nature impressed her so deeply that she wondered what opportunity or congenital condition had been lacking for him not to have become an actor. He lit a cigarette in such a way as to make her feel ashamed of not having offered it herself, and also of not having put it between his lips, and struck the match for him, and patiently held it while he puffed the fag leisurely into life, even though she burned her fingers before dropping the charred remains on to her carpet.
‘There are some people in this world you can’t help,’ he said. ‘You can sit and talk your guts out for nobody’s benefit but their own, and in your own time, which costs as much money as their time does, and they’re the last people to appreciate what you’re trying to do for them. It’s not that we’re begging for money. It’s not that we’re asking you to make work for us, but we want to do summat for you that wants doing. I can’t put it fairer than that.’
George waved a hand for his brother to stop, but Bert interrupted harshly: ‘Trying to tell us summat, then?’
‘I am.’ He sat down at last.
‘I should think so.’
‘If you’ll give me a chance.’
‘Go on.’
Alf poked Harry. ‘Wake up, and listen to this.’
‘I was going to say that you could paint the workshop after all,’ George said.
No one spoke.
‘I was only saying to myself the other day how run down the place is looking. Wasn’t I, Pam?’
They kept silent.
He looked at them in turn. There were no takers. ‘Pam, my love, why don’t we have another pot of tea between us. I could do with a little refreshment.’