Mavis Belfrage by Alasdair Gray

happen
. If she saw him she would know he had gatecrashed. At the end of a short corridor he found a kitchen where chatting couples and trios were so tightly packed that a lonely man was not noticeable.Filling a plate with salad and cold meat he stood eating with a fork in a corner by a refrigerator. Again voices pressed painfully in on him.
    â€œIt’s a good wee car. It’s not a great wee car but it’s not a bad wee car. Anyway it suits me.”
    â€œTake it easy. Let yourself go. What use is worrying? That’s my philosophy.”
    â€œI said you’ve stopped trying. You’ve let yourself go. You’re sliding to the bottom I told him, but you aren’t going to take me with you.”
    These did not shut out earlier voices.
    â€œYou need talent to enjoy the dolce vita.”
    â€œHe never starts anything. He waits until someone else suggests something then hangs about hoping to be included.”
    â€œYe big fat stupit wet plaster ye!”
    â€œI could have belted him if I’d wanted to,” thought the teacher unhappily then a sound recalled him wholly to the present. Through a lull in surrounding talk came the pure voice of a singer:
“I never will marry, I’ll be no man’s wife, I have vowed to be single, All the days of my life.”
He set down the plate and went toward the music.
    In a dim room next door a dozen people sat or squatted on the carpet listening to a plain stout woman of forty or fifty who sat on a sofa under a standard lamp. With hands folded on lap she sang of hopeless love, sudden death and failed endeavour, sang so sweetly, quietly and firmly that the teacher felt her singing was the one truly good thing he had met that day and for many days. He was grateful. He was even grateful to Plenderleith who sat by the singer strikingquiet harmonious chords on a guitar. She sang
Barbara Allan, The Bonnie Earl of Murray, Henry Martin
then coughed, blew out her cheeks and said, “That’s all tonight folks.”
    The audience did not move. A girl begged, “One more?”
    â€œRight, a short one.
Bonnie George Campbell
… Don’t try to accompany this,” she told Plenderleith and sang,
    â€œHigh in the Highlands and low upon Tay
,
    Bonnie George Campbell rode out on a day
,
    Saddled and bridled and gallant rade he
,
    Hame cam his guid horse, but never cam he.”
    During the last verse the teacher was gripped by an audacious notion which made him tremble with excitement.
    â€œDoon cam his auld mither greetin’ fu sair
,
    Doon cam his bonny bride rivin’ her hair –
    â€˜My meadow’s unreaped and uncut is my corn
,
    My barn is unfilled and my babe is unborn.’
Now give me something to drink because my belly thinks my throat’s cut,” said the singer. There was a murmur of laughter and applause and someone handed her a glass of wine. The teacher hurried over to Plenderleith and said urgently, “Do you remember
On Duty
, Plendy?”
    â€œEh?”
    â€œOn Duty – A Tale of the Crimea
. I sang it on the staff outing to Largs.”
    â€œYes?”
    â€œI’m going to sing it now. Vamp along with me will you? It’s an easy tune –
dee dum dum dum dumpty, dee dum dum dum dum
– you can do it.”
    Plenderleith looked thoughtfully at the teacher for amoment then shrugged and said, “All right.”
    â€œLADIES AND GENTLEMEN!” cried the teacher loudly, “ladies and gentlemen I don’t know who the last singer was but we must all agree she was splendid! Wonderful! Sublime! But she sang nothing very patriotic, did she? So it is now both my duty and my pleasure to give you a rendition of that popular patriotic ballad,
On Duty – A Tale of the Crimea
. Would someone near the door switch on the ceiling light? This ballad goes better without moody lighting. Thank you! Here it comes –
On Duty – A Tale of the Crimea
.”
    Standing to