“Go ahead, if it amuses you,” she said, regarding him with a puzzled expression in her eyes.
It took George a long time to shift the rubbish, but it pleased him to do so. He made four journeys to the junk shop, and finally, hot and a little exhausted, he presented her with five shillings.
“There!” he said. “A clear flat and five bob. It’s funny, isn’t it, that even rubbish is worth money?”
She nodded. “You’re an awful dope, George,” she said. “Why don’t you think big? Look at the effort you’ve just made to get five bob. With that effort you could have made five pounds.”
He thought about this seriously. “I don’t think so,” he said at last. “You see, no one can make five pounds quickly unless he has specialized knowledge. Even if it’s only backing a horse, you have to know the right horse to hack. You can’t make money unless you’ve been properly trained.” He shrugged uneasily. “Perhaps that’s why I’ve never had any real money.”
She flicked the cigarette butt into the empty fireplace. “If I liked to go on the streets,” she said, “I could earn a hundred pounds a week. I don’t have to have specialized knowledge to do that.”
“Why don’t you?” George asked, interested to hear what she would say.
She smiled secretly. “Because it’s too easy.”
“I wonder.”
“All right. Because I’m too proud. I’ve got other ideas.”
“I don’t understand how you two live. Does Sydney keep you?”
“You’re curious, aren’t you?”
George nodded. “I suppose I am. Well, perhaps I shouldn’t ask.”
“We get along. We’ve been getting along like this for a hell of a time… getting nowhere.”
George stood over her. “You can’t go on like this, Cora,” he said. “I can’t go on the way I’m going on now much longer. Couldn’t we get together? You and me might do well if we stuck together.”
“Think so?” she said, looking out of the window. “Well, there’re things to do first. I’ve got other things on my mind… important things,” and her hands closed into tight little fists.
She’s thinking about tonight, George decided uneasily. In his burst of activity he had forgotten about Crispin and the two Greeks. Instantly his old fears returned.
“I say, Cora,” he said, moving over to the fireplace, “shouldn’t we leave had alone? I mean there might be more trouble.” He glanced in the mirror at the plaster strips on his face. “They’re a pretty rough crowd.”
“If you expect us to stick together,” Cora said slowly, “you’ll have to show a little more guts. I don’t like men without spine.” She stood up and, turning her back, she pulled her dressing-gown aside. “Take a look, George.”
He had one momentary glimpse of the red and black marks on her white flesh before she jerked the dressing- gown into place: a sight that sickened him, angered him and embarrassed him.
She faced him, her eyes probing and cold. “Well?”
“Oh, Cora,” he said, going to her. He put his arms round her, but she was hard and resisting. She pushed him away.
“Not now, George,” she said impatiently. “All that can come when this business is over.” She glanced up at him. “If you really care for me, you’re not going to let Crispin get away with this. You’ve talked a lot about what you did in the States. I want to see what you can do here. When I’ve seen that, I could be very nice to you.” Her eyes came alive for a moment. “Very nice to you,” she repeated.
This was too important to George for any misunderstanding. He clutched her hands.
“I’ll do anything for you, Cora,” he said, looking wildly into her eyes for her assurance. “If I do that, you will be nice to me? You will be really nice?” He wanted to say, “You’re promising to give yourself to me?” but he hadn’t the courage to come out with it as bluntly as that.
She seemed to know what was in his mind, because she gave him an unmistakable look of promise.
“You won’t he disappointed, George,” she said. “I don’t like men messing me about, but you’re different. You’ll get your reward.”
Later, they went out for a snack. George wanted to take the gun, but Cora wouldn’t let him “Leave it there,” she said, a little sharply. “It won’t run away.”
He walked a step behind her, and glanced from time to time at her with secret pride. The pale blue sweater had shrunk a trifle, but it looked bright. The slacks had a knife- edge crease which he had put in with great care, using an old-fashioned flat-iron he had found in the kitchen. Her hair was sleek and glossy. She had taken pains to put her lipstick on neatly. He thought she looked lovely.
Although she did not complain, she walked stiffly, but she held her head high, and she had lost none of her arrogance.
They went to the pub at the corner of the street and leaned up against the bar. They ordered pints of bitter and sausage rolls.
“This is fun, isn’t it?” George said, in seventh heaven.
She flicked a flake of pastry from her mouth and grimaced. “Think so?” she said, biting into the sausage roll again.
“I suppose it’s nothing to you,” he said, hurt; “only I’ve been lonely for a long time. Having a girl like you for company means a lot to me.”
She raised the beer glass and drank, gazing at him with thoughtful eyes over the top of it. She put the glass down and drew a deep breath.
“You’re a sentimental fool, aren’t you?”
He looked to see if she were jeering at him, but she was serious in an unexpectedly kind way.
“I suppose I am.” He brooded, looking down at his shoes. “But there’s nothing wrong in that. I know people sneer at sentimentality, but they’re usually pretty unhappy themselves.”
She wasn’t listening to him. Her attention was centred on a short man who had just come in. George followed her gaze. He recognized the man. It was Little Ernie.
Little Ernie joined them. “My word!” he said, staring at George, “has she been making love to you?”
George didn’t say anything.
“For Gawd’s sake,” Little Ernie went on to Cora, “what’s ’append to the bloke? Saw ’im a week ago, and ’e was as lovely as an oil painting. Look at ’im now.”
“Dry up, Ernie,” Cora said. “He’s been in the wars.”
“I’ll say ’e ’as,” Little Ernie said, undisguised admiration in his eyes. “Well, well. What’ll you ’ave? He rubbed a dirty finger under his nose and then wiped his finger on his trouser leg.
“We’ve got drinks, thank you,” George said, a little stiffly. He didn’t like this man He didn’t like the way he was eyeing Cora, a lewd look in his small green eyes.
Little Ernie rapped on the bar with a coin. “Hurry up,” he shouted. “I ain’t got all day. Gimme a double Scotch.” He turned to Cora. “Sure you won’t ’ave one?”
“All right,” she said, leaning her hack against the counter. She propped herself on her elbows and thrust her chest at him. “Give George one, too. You’re lousy with money, aren’t you?”
Little Ernie winked. “I get by,” he said, and raising his voice he shouted, “Make it three doubles, Clara, and out of the boss’ bottle!” He looked at Cora again, then he glanced at George. “Fine gel, ain’t she?” he said. “What a dairy! You could make pounds outta ’er if you knew ’ow to ’andle ’er.”
“Shut your dirty trap,” Cora said, her eyes bright with suppressed laughter. “George’s not like you.” She reached round and picked up her glass. “How’s Eva? Still buying your suits?”
Little Ernie’s cruel face darkened. “You don’t ’ave to shout all over the shop, do you?” he said, glancing uneasily over his shoulder. “Old Crockett was down the street not five minutes ago. She’s all right. She’s a good girl. Work! Gawd love me, I’ve never known a girl to work like it!”