Read Online The Dreaming Suburb by R.F. Delderfield - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: R.F. Delderfield
Ads: Link
times as much money they told him, as they had been getting a year ago at Coolridge's, but not once did Archie consider taking their well-meant advice. He liked the grocery trade he told them and, because of the serious staff shortage, he had obtained rapid promotion, and was now occupying the late Mr. Cole's position as senior storeman. Munition-making, he warned them, would cease one day, and they would soon be seeking re-entry into the provisioning trade. They would then, perhaps, see the wisdom of Archie's loyalty to the firm of Coolridge, notwithstanding the scandalously low basic wage it paid its suburban counter hands. Archie had a wry sense of humour. He particularly stressed the word “basic”.
Archie stayed on at Coolridge's until some time after the Armistice. By then he had so consolidated his position that he had been moved to a larger branch in Lewisham. With the return of the trench veterans, however, he grew strangely restless and dissatisfied. Perhaps he missed his evening sessions with customers in the big houses, like Number Five A, Outram Crescent, or perhaps the end of rationing had something to do with it. At all events, he was quite ready to leave when the Rita Ramage episode occurred, and made it necessary for the manager of his new branch, a strict Baptist, to inform him that he would be most obliged if Archie would “begin to look for other employment”. This enigmatic phrase was already becoming familiar to ex-servicemen, returning from their earnest endeavours to make the world safe for democracy, but it had few terrors for Archie. He had done very well out of rationing. His cash-box, which reposed in the locked suitcase under his bed, now held a floating reserve of nearly a hundred pounds, and he felt that his nest-egg was an adequate buffer between himself and the dole queue. He surprised everyone, including his family, by leaving, then and there, without even serving out his notice, and, far fromeconomising, walked into a garage and bought the Douglas motor-cycle he had been promising himself for so long.
No one at home, of course, knew anything about Archie's nest-egg, or about Rita Ramage, and the part she had played in Archie's dismissal after six, outwardly blameless years, with Coolridge Ltd.
Rita was one of those favoured wartime customers who occupied the lower half of a detached house in Outram Crescent. She was the wife of an ex-officer in the Tank Corps, who spent most of his time in hospitals, undergoing a series of operations designed to make him walk again. So far, they had not succeeded, and his wife Rita had ceased to pretend to herself that they ever would. Being a realist, not much given to sentimentalising, she had come to terms with herself emotionally, and had decided that she was too young, at thirty-three, to enter the purdah reserved for the young wives of totally disabled veterans. She was a full-blooded, buxom woman, and she needed a whole man, not two-thirds of one.
She had money of her own, so that a man to support as well as solace her was not a necessity, unless the right one showed up, in which case she could think about a divorce. In the meantime Reggie could have the whole of his disability pension, but a substitute must be found who could perform those functions that a direct hit on Reggie's tank had effectually prevented its commander from performing.
It was only a day or two after she had arrived at this decision that Archie Carver let himself into her kitchen, and whistled for Letty, the Belgian refugee maid whom Rita had employed throughout the war. As it was Letty's night out Rita herself answered the whistle.
She had just emerged from a hot bath, and had helped herself to a large double-whisky. Perhaps these two factors had something to do with the impact upon her of Archie's aggressive masculinity. At seventeen-and-a-half, Archie was six foot, broad-shouldered, and extremely well-muscled. He had, moreover, an exceptionally clear complexion,
Archie stayed on at Coolridge's until some time after the Armistice. By then he had so consolidated his position that he had been moved to a larger branch in Lewisham. With the return of the trench veterans, however, he grew strangely restless and dissatisfied. Perhaps he missed his evening sessions with customers in the big houses, like Number Five A, Outram Crescent, or perhaps the end of rationing had something to do with it. At all events, he was quite ready to leave when the Rita Ramage episode occurred, and made it necessary for the manager of his new branch, a strict Baptist, to inform him that he would be most obliged if Archie would “begin to look for other employment”. This enigmatic phrase was already becoming familiar to ex-servicemen, returning from their earnest endeavours to make the world safe for democracy, but it had few terrors for Archie. He had done very well out of rationing. His cash-box, which reposed in the locked suitcase under his bed, now held a floating reserve of nearly a hundred pounds, and he felt that his nest-egg was an adequate buffer between himself and the dole queue. He surprised everyone, including his family, by leaving, then and there, without even serving out his notice, and, far fromeconomising, walked into a garage and bought the Douglas motor-cycle he had been promising himself for so long.
No one at home, of course, knew anything about Archie's nest-egg, or about Rita Ramage, and the part she had played in Archie's dismissal after six, outwardly blameless years, with Coolridge Ltd.
Rita was one of those favoured wartime customers who occupied the lower half of a detached house in Outram Crescent. She was the wife of an ex-officer in the Tank Corps, who spent most of his time in hospitals, undergoing a series of operations designed to make him walk again. So far, they had not succeeded, and his wife Rita had ceased to pretend to herself that they ever would. Being a realist, not much given to sentimentalising, she had come to terms with herself emotionally, and had decided that she was too young, at thirty-three, to enter the purdah reserved for the young wives of totally disabled veterans. She was a full-blooded, buxom woman, and she needed a whole man, not two-thirds of one.
She had money of her own, so that a man to support as well as solace her was not a necessity, unless the right one showed up, in which case she could think about a divorce. In the meantime Reggie could have the whole of his disability pension, but a substitute must be found who could perform those functions that a direct hit on Reggie's tank had effectually prevented its commander from performing.
It was only a day or two after she had arrived at this decision that Archie Carver let himself into her kitchen, and whistled for Letty, the Belgian refugee maid whom Rita had employed throughout the war. As it was Letty's night out Rita herself answered the whistle.
She had just emerged from a hot bath, and had helped herself to a large double-whisky. Perhaps these two factors had something to do with the impact upon her of Archie's aggressive masculinity. At seventeen-and-a-half, Archie was six foot, broad-shouldered, and extremely well-muscled. He had, moreover, an exceptionally clear complexion,
Similar Books
