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Authors: Wolf Mankowitz
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turned down at the corners, which was always a bad sign.
When Joe came back he found that Shmule and Mr Kandinsky were not on speaking terms, except for essentials like ‘Pass the black thread’ and ‘Give me the shears.’ Joe couldn’t break the ice by talking about what was on his mind before he thought of the sandwich boards, because he couldn’t remember what it was, so after dinner he went out and spent the afternoon helping Mavis in the shop. At least Mavis always thought it was a wonderful day. She let him serve Mrs Abramowitz with a pound of Granny Smith apples, of which she was very fond. Of course Mrs Abramowitz managed to pinch his cheek, sod her.
8
The day before Shmule’s fight with Python Macklin, the workshop was closed. Shmule was getting into top shape down at Isaacs’ Gymnasium and Blackie was giving every assistance, including sending out of his own pocket a case of bad whisky to Python, because even if it would be hell for the stomach ulcers, who can resist the gift of an unknown admirer? Mr Kandinsky did have, to tell the truth, a couple of things he could have got on with, but instead he spent the morning at Shafchick’s vapour bath. By permission of Madame Rita, Joe spent the morning down at the milliner’s with his mother, which certainly made a change from all the bad temper and arguments in Kandinsky’s workshop. Furthermore, the girls at Madame Rita’s gave you sweets all the time, and had a completely different kind of conversation.
Joe’s mother was the trimmer, and there was another girl called Sophie who was learning the trimming from her. There was the machinist, Mrs Kramm, who was old and had a chest, and a pretty assistant from the shop named Ruby but called Lady R. Ruby was very nice to Joe, but she treated the others, even Joe’s mother, a bit haughty. As soon as she went out of the workroom they talked about her.
‘What a fine lady, I don’t think,’ said Sophie. ‘Some lady, I should say, and what was she before? – a little snot-nose giving the boys eyes the whole time,’ wheezed Mrs Kramm.
‘She’s very pretty,’ Joe’s mother said, picking up a small bunch of artificial cherries. ‘And good at her job.’
‘That you can say again,’ Mrs Kramm said. ‘That job she can do all right, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, such a job as she can do so well.’ She pressed the treadle of her machine so that the thread shot through the needle like lightning.
‘Mrs Kramm,’ Joe’s mother said, looking towards Joe, ‘I’m surprised at you. After all, it’s only a rumour.’
‘Oh no, it’s not, Becky,’ Sophie said quickly. ‘I’ve seen him after her behind the gown rail carrying on something terrible.’
‘Sophie,’ Joe’s mother said, ‘the child.’
‘Here you are, Joe,’ Sophie said; ‘I’ve found a caramel in silver paper for you.’
‘Thank you very much,’ said Joe, because they were the soft kind with a nut in the middle, although he would rather have heard some more about Lady R and Madame Rita. But it was just as well Sophie stopped when she did because while he was taking the silver paper off the caramel carefully so as not to tear it, who should come in but Lady R herself.
‘Becky dear,’ she said to Joe’s mother, ‘could Joe go an errand? Would you go an errand, Joe sweetie, for Auntie Ruby, dolly?’
‘Certainly he could,’ Joe’s mother said, though Joe didn’t as a rule run errands for dollies.
‘Will you, dolly?’ asked Lady R, bending down and putting her face right close to his. ‘For me?’
‘All right,’ Joe said. Lady R smelt nice at least, and she had large brown eyes and a smooth dark skin and oily black hair very smooth and curled into a bun.
‘Bless you, baby,’ Lady R said, and suddenly she gave Joe a fat kiss on his cheek, which though better than a pinch is still a nuisance.
The errand was to go round the corner and collect Lady R’s genuine French calf handbag which was having its
When Joe came back he found that Shmule and Mr Kandinsky were not on speaking terms, except for essentials like ‘Pass the black thread’ and ‘Give me the shears.’ Joe couldn’t break the ice by talking about what was on his mind before he thought of the sandwich boards, because he couldn’t remember what it was, so after dinner he went out and spent the afternoon helping Mavis in the shop. At least Mavis always thought it was a wonderful day. She let him serve Mrs Abramowitz with a pound of Granny Smith apples, of which she was very fond. Of course Mrs Abramowitz managed to pinch his cheek, sod her.
8
The day before Shmule’s fight with Python Macklin, the workshop was closed. Shmule was getting into top shape down at Isaacs’ Gymnasium and Blackie was giving every assistance, including sending out of his own pocket a case of bad whisky to Python, because even if it would be hell for the stomach ulcers, who can resist the gift of an unknown admirer? Mr Kandinsky did have, to tell the truth, a couple of things he could have got on with, but instead he spent the morning at Shafchick’s vapour bath. By permission of Madame Rita, Joe spent the morning down at the milliner’s with his mother, which certainly made a change from all the bad temper and arguments in Kandinsky’s workshop. Furthermore, the girls at Madame Rita’s gave you sweets all the time, and had a completely different kind of conversation.
Joe’s mother was the trimmer, and there was another girl called Sophie who was learning the trimming from her. There was the machinist, Mrs Kramm, who was old and had a chest, and a pretty assistant from the shop named Ruby but called Lady R. Ruby was very nice to Joe, but she treated the others, even Joe’s mother, a bit haughty. As soon as she went out of the workroom they talked about her.
‘What a fine lady, I don’t think,’ said Sophie. ‘Some lady, I should say, and what was she before? – a little snot-nose giving the boys eyes the whole time,’ wheezed Mrs Kramm.
‘She’s very pretty,’ Joe’s mother said, picking up a small bunch of artificial cherries. ‘And good at her job.’
‘That you can say again,’ Mrs Kramm said. ‘That job she can do all right, I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy, such a job as she can do so well.’ She pressed the treadle of her machine so that the thread shot through the needle like lightning.
‘Mrs Kramm,’ Joe’s mother said, looking towards Joe, ‘I’m surprised at you. After all, it’s only a rumour.’
‘Oh no, it’s not, Becky,’ Sophie said quickly. ‘I’ve seen him after her behind the gown rail carrying on something terrible.’
‘Sophie,’ Joe’s mother said, ‘the child.’
‘Here you are, Joe,’ Sophie said; ‘I’ve found a caramel in silver paper for you.’
‘Thank you very much,’ said Joe, because they were the soft kind with a nut in the middle, although he would rather have heard some more about Lady R and Madame Rita. But it was just as well Sophie stopped when she did because while he was taking the silver paper off the caramel carefully so as not to tear it, who should come in but Lady R herself.
‘Becky dear,’ she said to Joe’s mother, ‘could Joe go an errand? Would you go an errand, Joe sweetie, for Auntie Ruby, dolly?’
‘Certainly he could,’ Joe’s mother said, though Joe didn’t as a rule run errands for dollies.
‘Will you, dolly?’ asked Lady R, bending down and putting her face right close to his. ‘For me?’
‘All right,’ Joe said. Lady R smelt nice at least, and she had large brown eyes and a smooth dark skin and oily black hair very smooth and curled into a bun.
‘Bless you, baby,’ Lady R said, and suddenly she gave Joe a fat kiss on his cheek, which though better than a pinch is still a nuisance.
The errand was to go round the corner and collect Lady R’s genuine French calf handbag which was having its
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