After several readings blind rage at the conspiratorial twist of Humphries’ mind made him sweat more than he’d ever done in the factory. Veins on his temples jumped as he tried to stay nonchalant, barely able to resist saying he knew about the letter. Obtuse clodhopper Bert had made him blind to such insulting views of his talent and intentions. He would go his own way whatever they thought or felt, even though he had as yet no clear notion as to what that way would be. It wasn’t surprising that Dominic had itched to get his doctoring maulers on the typescript. Herbert would read the proofs word by word, to detect any clandestine tampering. ‘I don’t mind sitting here all day, till I hear your last word on what you’re going to pay me for an advance.’
‘Oh, all right,’ Humphries’ tone was no longer patronizing, ‘we’ll make it a thousand pounds. I only hope your royalties will run to it.’
‘It’s your problem if they don’t. But I think I’d better find an agent.’ Some good firms had written to offer their services. ‘If I’d got one already they’d have screwed even more out of you.’ He stood up and held out his hand. ‘I’ll ’ave that cigar now, if you don’t mind.’
The flat was set up and finished, a home in which he relished being alone. He stood in the large study-sitting room, looking around as if in a dream, amazed at all that had happened in a short space of twelve months. The flat belonged to him for the forever of five years, by when he would have a bigger place to fall into a trance about, maybe even a house. Change was no problem, for didn’t he get used to being a factory worker straight out of school? The staging post of a furnished room at the Elephant and Castle was easy to forget. He felt he was becoming a lover of comfort, and neither knew nor cared from what part of himself such maturity came. On the other hand he knew that not much was certain in life. Prosperity could any moment be snatched out of his hands by malignant fate. It was as well to be prepared, or at least not to be too surprised by the unwanted and unexpected. The picture of Phoebus Apollo, framed in thin black wood, hung on the wall above his writing table, and the hardworn copy of Caged Birds was available in the bedroom drawer.
Archie jumped from the carriage and strode along the platform. ‘Hey up, fuck-face!’
‘I’m glad you could make it,’ Bert said, a handshake and then an embrace.
‘I towd ’em I ’ad a bad back, and would be in bed for the day. The gaffer gen me a leery look, but since I’ve never ’ad a day off before in my life he couldn’t very well say owt. Anyway, I’d a gen ’im a mouthful, if ’e ’ad.’
It was a tonic to hear the old accent from someone born and bred to it, yet disturbing to know how much of his own had already gone down the chute. ‘The day’s yourn, Archie, so what do you want to do with it?’
Archie gripped his arm by the ticket barrier. ‘I wouldn’t mind a black and tan at Dirty Dick’s.’
‘You still like the owd titty-bottle, eh? They wain’t be open for a couple of hours, so we’ll go to my place first.’ A start had to be made on letting Archie see his altered style of living. Walking together into the Underground, Herbert wondered whether they could be taken for two workmen down for a day in the Smoke to see the sights. Though sartorially on a par in that Archie had donned his best suit, and Herbert wore his one for everyday, some difference between them must be obvious. He hoped so, but at the same time cared not to think about it. The connection had been false from the beginning, but he felt a brotherly responsibility for Archie, and nothing but gladness at having set the meeting up. ‘How old is the baby now?’
‘Three months, give or take an hour or two. He’s a beauty, but the little boggerlugs screams his guts out from the colic, or if he don’t get his own way. It teks all Josie’s strength to pick ’im up. He’ll soon be bigger than she is.’
‘So when are you having another?’
‘Give ’er a break, though I wouldn’t mind. I don’t want too many, or I’ll run out of beer money.’ The train rattled through Euston and Camden Town. ‘I only know the middle of London from when I was in the army, but I don’t think I’d like to live down ’ere.’
‘I’m not sure I like it all that much, either,’ Herbert said. ‘I’ve got used to it, though.’ Somewhere in the countryside might be more civilized, but he didn’t feel ready for it yet.
‘I suppose you ’ave. But you know, Bert, when you was in the factory and one of us, I allus knew you were up to summat and wouldn’t stay forever. I couldn’t be sure what it was, but you was different, and that was a fact. You used to try and hide it, but not from me you couldn’t. I got the first clue when you wanted that typewriter.’
Herbert put a hand on his shoulder. ‘And I knew you knew, but there was nothing I could tell you at the time.’
‘I expect you thought it’d put you off your stroke. I’d ’ave called you a bleddy liar, anyway.’
Herbert laughed. ‘Come on, we get out here.’
He looked on his bijou garden flat as the height of fine accommodation in crowded expensive London. Whatever family he came from, he had never expected such light and space for his own exclusive use. Archie’s almost unnoticeable look around brought nothing like: what a marvellous place, you’ve really dropped into it you lucky dog, how much does it cost a day? He behaved, or so Herbert liked to think, in the same way as Bert would in a similar situation if Archie had won the pools.
Archie picked up The Times Literary Supplement. ‘What the fuck’s this newspaper?’
He had meant to stow it away. ‘It’s all about books. Let’s have some coffee, shall we?’
‘Yeh, I was up at six this morning. A lot of the blokes at work read your book,’ he went on when Herbert came back from the kitchen.
Herbert stopped halfway in pouring the coffee. ‘Did they like it?’
‘Mostly. But one or two said you was giving them a bad name, about knocking on with other women. I towd the sanctimonious bastards to ’ave more sense. It worn’t about them at all, I said. You’d made it all up. But they wouldn’t believe me. They swore they kept recognizing themselves. I thought when I saw you I’d tell you, so’s we could have a good laugh about it.’
Herbert wondered why he had never been able to match the fluency of Archie’s lingo, whereas the screed at his desk came out with no trouble. Being on guard during speech could explain it, but not near as convincingly as that the language had never belonged to him. Reality couldn’t finally exist independent of birthright. ‘I suppose I’d better wear glasses and a false beard if I come up for a visit,’ he said when they stopped laughing, ‘or I’ll get duffed up.’