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Authors: Brian Pendreigh
Tags: Novels
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Berwick, but he remembers seeing the trailer. Lee Marvin following his wanderin' star through mud and rain and Rotten Luck Willie, a gambler who has held the riches of the world in his hand and gazed upon all her wonders, declaring the men's respect for the elements in the most powerful operatic voice in the film, and revealing that they call the wind Maria, with that memorably hard, long 'I' in Maria. Roy needed to see only the trailer to know that prospecting was a life for real men.
He saw Clint Eastwood the soldier in Where Eagles Dare , Clint Eastwood the cop in Dirty Harry , Clint Eastwood the western anti-hero in High Plains Drifter and Clint Eastwood the DJ in Play Misty for Me . He remained faithful to him throughout that strange period when he decided he was Clint Eastwood the comedian and his perfect co-star was an orang-utan called Clyde. Given a straight choice between Clint Eastwood and Alison Westwood, it was no contest. So when she walked out, Roy stayed with Clint Eastwood. A contest between Alison Westwood and Clyde the orang-utan might have been harder to decide.
Roy had asked Alison Westwood out only to show his friend David how it was done. David had not seen as many films. He had never seen Camelot and therefore was ignorant of even the rudiments of handling a woman. So Roy took him into the telephone box outside the Ritz Cinema, where they had just been to see Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon . It was the must-see kung fu movie, but it contained few hints on how to chat up girls. Stare hard, move your hands around in front of your naked torso and say: 'Eee-chaa-oooooooo?' It might just work with Clyde the orang-utang. It might just work with Alison, come to that.
'Hello, is that Alison? It's Roy here, we met at the school disco. Yes, I'm the one who told you I was going to be a cowboy when I grew up. Well, I wondered if you were doing anything on Friday night?'
That was the key line, and was usually met by confirmation of the girl's availability or alternatively with the information that she had to wash her hair.
'I was thinking I might go and see the new Dirty Harry film and I thought maybe you might want ... It's a cop film, you know with Clint Eastwood? Eastwood. Yes, it is a coincidence, almost ... You want me to come round for you? OK . Where do you live? That's Morningside, isn't it? Right ... I'll be there at seven. See you then. Don't bother with the fur coat either. Bye, Alison.'
The Ritz had been the first cinema Roy ever attended without an adult. It was a half-hour walk from his new home in Learmonth. He went, that first time, with his friend Johnnie Grant, the red-haired, freckled boy, who lived in a top-floor tenement flat in Comely Bank Row. His parents did not have much money – his father was a joiner or something like that – and Johnnie slept in a windowless box-room but he knew things that Roy didn't know. He knew about the balloon machine in the gents at the Ritz and he knew about poetry. He taught Roy a poem on the way to the cinema, reciting it with all the meaning he could muster, as he strode along, his pace dictating the delivery of the lines:
'Skinny Malinky Long-legs, Um-bi-rella feet,
Went to the pictures and couldnae find a seat.
When the picture started,
Skinny Malinky farted.
Skinny Malinky Long-legs, Um-bi-rella Feet.'
It was terribly rude, but Johnnie urged Roy to join in. Before they reached the cinema they were marching, stride for stride, arm in arm, as they recited the poem together.
They were expensive balloons from the machine in the gents' toilet at the Ritz and they felt slimey, like snails. Johnnie blew one up and released it when John Wayne told Robert Duvall to fill his hands, the sonofabitch. It flew around the cinema with a farting noise and landed somewhere in the front stalls. An usherette shone a torch along their row.
'It was them,' said a girl in pigtails a few rows behind, pointing an accusing finger.
Roy and Johnnie stared intently at
He saw Clint Eastwood the soldier in Where Eagles Dare , Clint Eastwood the cop in Dirty Harry , Clint Eastwood the western anti-hero in High Plains Drifter and Clint Eastwood the DJ in Play Misty for Me . He remained faithful to him throughout that strange period when he decided he was Clint Eastwood the comedian and his perfect co-star was an orang-utan called Clyde. Given a straight choice between Clint Eastwood and Alison Westwood, it was no contest. So when she walked out, Roy stayed with Clint Eastwood. A contest between Alison Westwood and Clyde the orang-utan might have been harder to decide.
Roy had asked Alison Westwood out only to show his friend David how it was done. David had not seen as many films. He had never seen Camelot and therefore was ignorant of even the rudiments of handling a woman. So Roy took him into the telephone box outside the Ritz Cinema, where they had just been to see Bruce Lee in Enter the Dragon . It was the must-see kung fu movie, but it contained few hints on how to chat up girls. Stare hard, move your hands around in front of your naked torso and say: 'Eee-chaa-oooooooo?' It might just work with Clyde the orang-utang. It might just work with Alison, come to that.
'Hello, is that Alison? It's Roy here, we met at the school disco. Yes, I'm the one who told you I was going to be a cowboy when I grew up. Well, I wondered if you were doing anything on Friday night?'
That was the key line, and was usually met by confirmation of the girl's availability or alternatively with the information that she had to wash her hair.
'I was thinking I might go and see the new Dirty Harry film and I thought maybe you might want ... It's a cop film, you know with Clint Eastwood? Eastwood. Yes, it is a coincidence, almost ... You want me to come round for you? OK . Where do you live? That's Morningside, isn't it? Right ... I'll be there at seven. See you then. Don't bother with the fur coat either. Bye, Alison.'
The Ritz had been the first cinema Roy ever attended without an adult. It was a half-hour walk from his new home in Learmonth. He went, that first time, with his friend Johnnie Grant, the red-haired, freckled boy, who lived in a top-floor tenement flat in Comely Bank Row. His parents did not have much money – his father was a joiner or something like that – and Johnnie slept in a windowless box-room but he knew things that Roy didn't know. He knew about the balloon machine in the gents at the Ritz and he knew about poetry. He taught Roy a poem on the way to the cinema, reciting it with all the meaning he could muster, as he strode along, his pace dictating the delivery of the lines:
'Skinny Malinky Long-legs, Um-bi-rella feet,
Went to the pictures and couldnae find a seat.
When the picture started,
Skinny Malinky farted.
Skinny Malinky Long-legs, Um-bi-rella Feet.'
It was terribly rude, but Johnnie urged Roy to join in. Before they reached the cinema they were marching, stride for stride, arm in arm, as they recited the poem together.
They were expensive balloons from the machine in the gents' toilet at the Ritz and they felt slimey, like snails. Johnnie blew one up and released it when John Wayne told Robert Duvall to fill his hands, the sonofabitch. It flew around the cinema with a farting noise and landed somewhere in the front stalls. An usherette shone a torch along their row.
'It was them,' said a girl in pigtails a few rows behind, pointing an accusing finger.
Roy and Johnnie stared intently at
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