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Authors: Winston Graham
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movies again?’
‘Sort of. It’s a place I go sometimes.’
As we went up the steps a commissionaire opened the glass doors for us. Leigh went to the pay desk and bought tickets. Somewhere was the sound of music. Glittery, even for a cinema, with a lot
of massed lights over the stairs. Then suddenly I knew.
‘Leigh! You fool! I told you.’
He caught my arm as I turned to go out. ‘We can watch , Deb. No call to do any more. Be a Sport.’
‘It isn’t a question of that.’ I hesitated, wanting to leave but not wanting to let him or anyone else see that it meant anything to me.
‘Well, let’s just go and look-see. We can always come away if it’s a drag.’
As we went down the stairs the cold greeted us. Piped organ music was encouraging some sixty or seventy-odd people of varying degrees of skill, and lack of it, round a big oblong rink. The
ceiling was dark blue dotted with stars, and there was a sort of sham Gothic castle at one end. We took seats outside the wooden barrier and watched in silence.
As so often, his action had roused conflicting feelings: anger at being tricked, a back-of-the-mind awareness that the whole thing was too trivial to be worth anger; disgust at his obtuseness,
annoyance with myself that I was still far too sensitive; a wish to throw him over and a knowledge that if I did I’d regret it.
Presently he said: ‘OK now?’
I didn’t speak. Three-quarters of the girl skaters were in flesh-coloured tights with tiny frilly skirts. They all had the most beautiful legs.
He patted my hand.
‘Leigh,’ I said, ‘we shall get on so much better if you treat me as a grown-up human being and not as a retarded adolescent who has to be coaxed and cheated into doing
things.’
He still had his hand over mine. ‘Crikey, I like coaxing you, Deborah. It’s nice for me and it’s good for you. Honest. What harm have I done? Tell me. Just tell me how
you’ve come to any harm through coming here!’
I sighed. ‘Sometimes we don’t talk the same language, do we? We – we need an interpreter.’ Two beginners came sliding past us, clutching nervously to the rail.
He thrust his bottom lip out and wrinkled his forehead. ‘Maybe, maybe. I’m not subtle. Even my best friend wouldn’t accuse me of being subtle. I just go on simple primitive
instincts, and one of my instincts is to try to give you pleasure. But pleasures aren’t always pleasures right off. Sometimes they hurt at first. Have patience, lovey. Don’t shoot the
pianist just yet.’
We sat for a time. Then he said would I like something to eat and I said yes, so we went to the restaurant upstairs which looked out on to the skating. The warmth was very welcome after the
chill of the rink. We had ham omelette and salad and beer and Cheddar cheese and biscuits. While we were there the floor was cleared of beginners and the experts had a session for dancing. This was
much pleasanter for me to watch. In the same way I could enjoy Wimbledon but not the local tennis club.
About eleven he drove me home. Outside our house he leaned over and kissed me. I didn’t turn away. He said: ‘Debby, Debby, Debby, what a gorgeous kiss. I love you. You weren’t
meant to be a nun. Remember that, can you, till Thursday?’
I remembered it till Thursday.
We went to Rotherhithe again but not to his house. We went to Ted Sandymount’s flat. Ted, having just been turned out of a condemned building, had been rehoused on the
sixteenth and top floor of a new block of flats. From his picture window you got a dream view of London’s dockland, stretching from Tower Bridge to Greenwich. The river curled like a
dangerous snake slipping half-hidden through the undergrowth of the city.
I couldn’t bring myself to take to Ted. He might be big-hearted, as Leigh said, but he represented most of the superficial things I sheered away from in a man: a sort of vulgarity of
outlook which cheapened what it touched. He had to perfection what Sarah
‘Sort of. It’s a place I go sometimes.’
As we went up the steps a commissionaire opened the glass doors for us. Leigh went to the pay desk and bought tickets. Somewhere was the sound of music. Glittery, even for a cinema, with a lot
of massed lights over the stairs. Then suddenly I knew.
‘Leigh! You fool! I told you.’
He caught my arm as I turned to go out. ‘We can watch , Deb. No call to do any more. Be a Sport.’
‘It isn’t a question of that.’ I hesitated, wanting to leave but not wanting to let him or anyone else see that it meant anything to me.
‘Well, let’s just go and look-see. We can always come away if it’s a drag.’
As we went down the stairs the cold greeted us. Piped organ music was encouraging some sixty or seventy-odd people of varying degrees of skill, and lack of it, round a big oblong rink. The
ceiling was dark blue dotted with stars, and there was a sort of sham Gothic castle at one end. We took seats outside the wooden barrier and watched in silence.
As so often, his action had roused conflicting feelings: anger at being tricked, a back-of-the-mind awareness that the whole thing was too trivial to be worth anger; disgust at his obtuseness,
annoyance with myself that I was still far too sensitive; a wish to throw him over and a knowledge that if I did I’d regret it.
Presently he said: ‘OK now?’
I didn’t speak. Three-quarters of the girl skaters were in flesh-coloured tights with tiny frilly skirts. They all had the most beautiful legs.
He patted my hand.
‘Leigh,’ I said, ‘we shall get on so much better if you treat me as a grown-up human being and not as a retarded adolescent who has to be coaxed and cheated into doing
things.’
He still had his hand over mine. ‘Crikey, I like coaxing you, Deborah. It’s nice for me and it’s good for you. Honest. What harm have I done? Tell me. Just tell me how
you’ve come to any harm through coming here!’
I sighed. ‘Sometimes we don’t talk the same language, do we? We – we need an interpreter.’ Two beginners came sliding past us, clutching nervously to the rail.
He thrust his bottom lip out and wrinkled his forehead. ‘Maybe, maybe. I’m not subtle. Even my best friend wouldn’t accuse me of being subtle. I just go on simple primitive
instincts, and one of my instincts is to try to give you pleasure. But pleasures aren’t always pleasures right off. Sometimes they hurt at first. Have patience, lovey. Don’t shoot the
pianist just yet.’
We sat for a time. Then he said would I like something to eat and I said yes, so we went to the restaurant upstairs which looked out on to the skating. The warmth was very welcome after the
chill of the rink. We had ham omelette and salad and beer and Cheddar cheese and biscuits. While we were there the floor was cleared of beginners and the experts had a session for dancing. This was
much pleasanter for me to watch. In the same way I could enjoy Wimbledon but not the local tennis club.
About eleven he drove me home. Outside our house he leaned over and kissed me. I didn’t turn away. He said: ‘Debby, Debby, Debby, what a gorgeous kiss. I love you. You weren’t
meant to be a nun. Remember that, can you, till Thursday?’
I remembered it till Thursday.
We went to Rotherhithe again but not to his house. We went to Ted Sandymount’s flat. Ted, having just been turned out of a condemned building, had been rehoused on the
sixteenth and top floor of a new block of flats. From his picture window you got a dream view of London’s dockland, stretching from Tower Bridge to Greenwich. The river curled like a
dangerous snake slipping half-hidden through the undergrowth of the city.
I couldn’t bring myself to take to Ted. He might be big-hearted, as Leigh said, but he represented most of the superficial things I sheered away from in a man: a sort of vulgarity of
outlook which cheapened what it touched. He had to perfection what Sarah
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