Collected Short Stories Volume 4 by W. Somerset Maugham

'Well, I must be on my way,' he said. 'If I don't get on with the job pretty damn quick I don't know what'll happen to the country.'

  'I'm not detaining you,' she said coolly.

  'That's where you make a mistake,' he answered.

  He gave her a look that made her heart beat nineteen to the dozen and she felt herself blushing all over. She turned away and ran back to the house. Fred noticed it was four doors away from the pillar-box. He had to pass it and as he did so he looked up. He saw the net curtains twitch and knew she was watching. He felt pleased with himself. During the next few days he looked at the house whenever he passed it, but never caught a glimpse of the girl. One afternoon he ran across her by chance just as he was entering the street in which she lived.

  'Hullo,' he said, stopping.

  'Hullo.'

  She blushed scarlet.

  'Haven't seen you about lately.'

  'You haven't missed much.'

  'That's what you think.'

  She was prettier than he remembered, dark-haired, dark-eyed, rather tall, slight, with a good figure, a pale skin, and very white teeth.

  'What about coming to the pictures with me one evening?'

  'Taking a lot for granted, aren't you?'

  'It pays,' he said with his impudent, charming grin.

  She couldn't help laughing.

  'Not with me, it doesn't.'

  'Oh, come on. One's only young once.'

  There was something so attractive in him that she couldn't bring herself to give him a saucy answer.

  'I couldn't really. My people wouldn't like me going out with a fellow I don't know. You see, I'm the only one they have and they think a rare lot of me. Why, I don't even know your name.'

  'Well, I can tell you, can't I? Fred. Fred Manson. Can't you say you're going to the pictures with a girl friend?'

  She had never felt before what she was feeling then. She didn't know if it was pain or pleasure. She was strangely breathless.

  'I suppose I could do that.'

  They fixed the night, the time, and the place. Fred was waiting for her and they went in, but when the picture started and he put his arm round her waist, without a word, her eyes fixed on the screen, she quietly took it away. He took hold of her hand, but she withdrew it. He was surprised. That wasn't the way girls usually behaved. He didn't know what one went to the pictures for if it wasn't to have a bit of a cuddle. He walked home with her after the show. She told him her name. Grace Carter. Her father had a shop of his own in the Brixton Road, he was a draper and he had four assistants.

  'He must be doing well,' said Fred.

  'He doesn't complain.'

  Gracie was a student at London University. When she got her degree she was going to be a school teacher.

  'What d'you want to do that for when there's a good business waiting for you?'

  'Pa doesn't want me to have anything to do with the shop – not after the education he's given me. He wants me to better myself, if you know what I mean.'

  Her father had started life as an errand boy, then become a draper's assistant, and because he was hard-working, honest, and intelligent was now owner of a prosperous little business. Success had given him grand ideas for his only child. He didn't want her to have anything to do with trade. He hoped she'd marry a professional man perhaps, or at least someone in the City. Then he'd sell the business and retire, and Gracie would be quite the lady.

  When they reached the corner of her street Gracie held out her hand.

  'You'd better not come to the door,' she said.

  'Aren't you going to kiss me good night?'

  'I am not.'

  'Why?'

  'Because I don't want to.'

  'You'll come to the pictures again, won't you?'

  'I think I'd better not.'

  'Oh, come on.'

  There was such a warm urgency in his voice that she felt as though her knees would give way.

  'Will you behave if I do?' He nodded. 'Promise?'

  'Swop me bob.'

  He scratched his head when he left her. Funny girl. He'd never met anyone quite like her. Superior, there was no doubt about that. There was something in her voice that got you. It was warm and soft. He tried to think what it was like. It was like as if the words kissed you. Sounded silly, that did, but that's just what it was like.

  From then on they went to the pictures once or twice a week. After a while she allowed him to put his arm round her waist and to hold her hand, but she never let him go farther than that.

  'Have you ever been kissed by a fellow?' he asked her once.

  'No, I haven't,' she said simply. 'My ma's funny, she says you've got to keep a man's respect.'

  'I'd give anything in the world just to kiss you, Gracie.'

  'Don't be so silly.'

  'Won't you let me just once?' She shook her head. 'Why not?'

  'Because I like you too much,'

  she said hoarsely, and then walked quickly away from him.

  It gave him quite a turn. He wanted her as he'd never wanted a woman before. What she'd said finished him. He'd been thinking of her a lot, and he'd looked forward to the evenings they spent together as he'd never looked forward to anything in his life. For the first time he was uncertain of himself. She was above him in every way, what with her father making money hand over fist and her education and everything, and him only a postman. They had made a date for the following Friday night and he was in a fever of anxiety lest she shouldn't come. He repeated to himself over and over again what she'd said: perhaps it meant that she'd made up her mind to drop him. When at last he saw her walking along the street he almost sobbed with relief. That evening he neither put his arm round her nor took her hand and when he walked her home he never said a word.

  'You're very quiet tonight, Fred,' she said at last. 'What's the matter with you?'

  He walked a few steps before he answered.

  'I don't like to tell you.'

  She stopped suddenly and looked up at him. There was terror on her face.

  'Tell me whatever it is,' she said unsteadily.

  'I'm gone, I can't help myself, I'm so stuck on you I can't see straight. I didn't know what it was to love like I love you.'

  'Oh, is that all? You gave me such a fright. I thought you were going to say you were going to be married.'

  'Me? Who d'you take me for? It's you I want to marry.'

  'Well, what's to prevent you, silly?'

  'Gracie! D'you mean it?'

  He flung his arms round her and kissed her full on the mouth. She didn't resist. She returned his kiss and he felt in her a passion as eager as his own.

  They arranged that Gracie should tell her parents that she was engaged to him and that on the Sunday he should come and be introduced to them. Since the shop stayed open late on Saturday and by the time Mr Carter got home he was tired out, it was not till after dinner on Sunday that Gracie broke her news. George Carter was a brisk, not very tall man, but sturdy, with a high colour, who with increasing prosperity had put on weight. He was more than rather bald and he had a bristle of grey moustache. Like many another employer who had risen from the working class he was a slave-driver and he got as much work out of his assistants for as little money as was possible. He had an eye for every thing and he wouldn't put up with any nonsense, but he was reasonable and even kindly, so that they did not dislike him. Mrs Carter was a quiet, nice woman, with a pleasant face and the remains of good looks. They were both in the early fifties, for they had married late after 'walking out' for nearly ten years.

  They were very much surprised when Gracie told them what she had to tell, but not displeased.

  'You are a sly one,' said her father. 'Why, I never suspected for a minute you'd taken up with anyone. Well, I suppose it had to come sooner or later. What's his name?'

  'Fred Manson.'

  'A fellow you met at college?'

  'No. You must have seen him about. He clears our pillar-box. He's a postman.'

  'Oh,
Gracie,' cried Mrs Carter, 'you can't mean it. You can't marry a common postman, not after all the education we've given you.'

  For an instant Mr Carter was speechless. He got redder in the face than ever.

  'Your ma's right, my girl,' he burst out now. 'You can't throw yourself away like that. Why, it's ridiculous.'

  'I'm not throwing myself away. You wait till you see him.'

  Mrs Carter began to cry.

  'It's such a come-down. It's such a humiliation. I shall never be able to hold up my head again.'

  'Oh, Ma, don't talk like that. He's a nice fellow and he's got a good job.'

  'You don't understand,' she moaned.

  'How d'you get to know him?' Mr Carter interrupted. 'What sort of a family's he got?'

  'His pa drives one of the post-office vans,' Gracie answered defiantly.

  'Working-class people.'

  'Well, what of it? His pa's worked twenty-four years for the post-office and they think a lot of him.'

  Mrs Carter was biting the corner of her handkerchief.

  'Gracie, I want to tell you something. Before your pa and me got married I was in domestic service. He wouldn't ever let me tell you because he didn't want you to be ashamed of me. That's why we was engaged all those years. The lady I was with said she'd leave me something in her will if I stayed with her till she passed away.'

  'It was that money that gave me my start,' Mr Carter broke in. 'Except for that I'd never have been where I am today. And I don't mind telling you your ma's the best wife a man ever had.'

  'I never had a proper education,' Mrs Carter went on, 'but I always was ambitious. The proudest moment of my life was when your pa said we could afford a girl to help me and he said then: "The time'll come when you have a cook and a house-maid," and he's been as good as his word, and now you're going back to what I come from. I'd set my heart on your marrying a gentleman.'

  She began crying again. Gracie loved her parents and couldn't bear to see them so distressed.

  'I'm sorry, Ma, I knew it would be a disappointment to you, but I can't help it, I can't really. I love him so. I love him so terribly. I'm sure you'll like him when you see him. We're going for a walk on the Common this afternoon. Can't I bring him back to supper?'

  Mrs Carter gave her husband a harassed look. He sighed.

  'I don't like it and it's no good pretending I do, but I suppose we'd better have a look at him.'

  Supper passed off better than might have been expected. Fred wasn't shy, and he talked to Gracie's parents as though he had known them all his life. If to be waited on by a maid, if to sup in a dining-room furnished in solid mahogany and afterwards to sit in a drawing-room that had a grand piano in it was new to him, he showed no embarrassment. After he had gone and they were alone in their bedroom Mr and Mrs Carter talked him over.

  'He is handsome, you can't deny that,' she said.

  'Handsome is as handsome does. D'you think he's after her money?'

  'Well, he must know that you've got a tidy little bit tucked away somewhere, but he's in love with her all right.'

  'Oh, what makes you think that?'

  'Why, you've only got to see the way he looks at her.'

  'Well, that's something at all events.'

  In the end the Carters withdrew their opposition on the condition that the young things shouldn't marry until Gracie had taken her degree. That would give them a year, and at the back of their minds was the hope that by then she would have changed her mind. They saw a good deal of Fred after that. He spent every Sunday with them. Little by little they began quite to like him. He was so easy, so gay, so full of high spirits, and above all so obviously head over ears in love with Gracie, that Mrs Carter soon succumbed to his charm, and after a while even Mr Carter was prepared to admit that he didn't seem a bad fellow. Fred and Gracie were happy. She went to London every day to attend lectures and worked hard. They spent blissful evenings together. He gave her a very nice engagement ring and often took her out to dinner in the West End and to a play. On fine Sundays he drove her out into the country in a car that he said a friend had lent him. When she asked him if he could afford all the money he spent on her he laughed, and said a chap had given him a tip on an outsider and he'd made a packet. They talked interminably of the little flat they would have when they were married and the fun it would be to furnish it. They were more in love with one another than ever.

  Then the blow fell. Fred was arrested for stealing money from the letters he collected. Many people, to save themselves the trouble of buying postal orders, put notes in their envelopes, and it wasn't difficult to tell that they were there. Fred went up for trial, pleaded guilty, and was sentenced to two years' hard labour. Gracie went to the trial. Up to the last moment she had hoped that he would be able to prove his innocence. It was a dreadful shock to her when he pleaded guilty. She was not allowed to see him. He went straight from the dock to the prison van. She went home and, locking herself up in her bedroom, threw herself on the bed and wept. When Mr Carter came back from the shop Gracie's mother went up to her room.

  'Gracie, you're to come downstairs,' she said. 'Your father wants to speak to you.'

  Gracie got up and went down. She did not trouble to dry her eyes.

  'Seen the paper?' he said, holding out to her the Evening News.

  She didn't answer.

  'Well, that's the end of that young man,' he went on harshly.

  They too, Gracie's parents, had been shocked when Fred was arrested, but she was so distressed, she was so convinced that everything could be explained, that they hadn't had the heart to tell her that she must have nothing more to do with him. But now they felt it time to have things out with her.

  'So that's where the money came from for those dinners and theatres. And the car. I thought it funny he should have a friend who'd lend him a car on Sundays when he'd be wanting it himself. He hired it, didn't he?'

  'I suppose so,' she answered miserably. 'I just believed what he told me.'

  'You've had a lucky escape, my girl, that's all I can say.'

  'He only did it because he wanted to give me a good time. He didn't want me to think I couldn't have everything as nice when I was with him as what I've been used to at home.'

  'You're not going to make excuses for him, I hope. He's a thief, that's what he is.'

  'I don't care,' she said sullenly.

  'You don't care? What d'you mean by that?'

  'Exactly what I say. I'm going to wait for him and the moment he comes out I'm going to marry him.'

  Mrs Carter gave a gasp of horror.

  'Gracie, you can't do a thing like that,' she cried. 'Think of the disgrace. And what about us? We've always held our heads high. He's a thief, and once a thief always a thief.'

  'Don't go on calling him a thief,' Gracie shrieked, stamping her foot with rage. 'What he did he did just because he loved me. I don't care if he is a thief. I love him more than ever I loved him. You don't know what love is. You waited ten years to marry Pa just so as an old woman should leave you some money. D'you call that love?'

  'You leave your ma out of this,' Mr Carter shouted. Then an idea occurred to him and he gave her a piercing glance. 'Have you got to marry the feller?'

  Gracie blushed furiously.

  'No. There's never been anything of that sort. And not through any fault of mine either. He loved me too much. He didn't want to do anything perhaps he'd regret afterwards.'

  Often on summer evenings in the country when they'd been lying in a field in one another's arms, mouth to mouth, her desire had been as intense as his. She knew how much he wanted her and she was ready to give him what he asked. But when things got too desperate he'd suddenly jump up and say:

  'Come on, let's walk.'

  He'd drag her to her feet. She knew what was in his mind. He wanted to wait till they were married. His love had given him a delicacy of sentiment that he'd never known before. He couldn't make it out himself, but he had a funny sort of feeling about her, he
felt that if he had her before marriage it would spoil things. Because she guessed what was in his heart she loved him all the more.

  'I don't know what's come over you,' moaned Mrs Carter. 'You was always such a good girl. You've never given us a day's uneasiness.'

  'Stop it, Ma,' said Mr Carter violently. 'We've got to get this straight once and for all. You've got to give up this man, see? I've got me own position to think of and if you think I'm going to have a gaol-bird for a son-in-law you'd better think again. I've had enough of this nonsense. You've got to promise me that you'll have nothing more to do with the feller ever.'

  'D'you think I'm going to give him up now? How often d'you want me to tell you I'm going to marry him the moment he gets out?'

  'All right, then you can get out of my house and get out pretty damn quick. And stay out.'

  'Pa!' cried Mrs Carter.

  'Shut up.'

  'I'll be glad to go,' said Gracie.

  'Oh, will you? And how d'you think you're going to live?'

  'I can work, can't I? I can get a job at Payne and Perkins. They'll be glad to have me.'

  'Oh, Gracie, you couldn't go and work in a shop. You can't demean yourself like that,' said Mrs Carter.

  'Will you shut up, Ma,' shouted Mr Carter, beside him-self now with rage. 'Work, will you? You that's never done a stroke of work in your life except that tomfoolery at the college. Bright idea it was of your ma's to give you an education. Fat lot of good it'll be to you when you've got to stand on your feet for hours and got to be civil and pleasant to a lot of old trouts who just try and give you all the trouble they can just to show how superior they are. I bet you'll like it when you're bawled out by the manageress because you're not bright and snappy. All right, marry your gaol-bird. I suppose you know you'll have to keep him too. You don't think anyone's going to give him a job, do you, not with his record. Get out, get out, get out.'

  He had worked himself up to such a pitch of fury that he sank panting into a chair. Mrs Carter, frightened, poured out a glass of water and gave him some to drink. Gracie slipped out of the room.

  Next day, when her father had gone to work and her mother was out shopping, she left the house with such effects as she could get into a suit-case. Payne and Perkins was a large department store in the Brixton Road, and with her good appearance and pleasant manner she found no difficulty in getting taken on. She was put in the ladies' lingerie. For a few days she stayed at the YWCA and then arranged to share a room with one of the girls who worked with her.