you used to be. And you're still expert at wriggling away from questions you don't want to answer. Are you here because you've rowed with Gav?'
'Mebbe.'
'Is that all I'm going to get?' she asked angrily. 'What do you think you're playing at, Col? That business in the Welfare the night you got jailed. Receipt for potato cakes, Jesus! And them phone calls. It is you, isn't it? I can feel you on the end of the line.'
'Can you? I hope I feel hard.'
She said, 'Col, what are you playing at? All right, don't tell me. Mebbe it's best I don't know. But I'll tell you something. You're out of place round here. You don't fit. Why don't you go off again?’
'Back to sea? Every bugger wants that. I remember the fuss you made first time I went. . .'
'I thought we had a future then, Col.'
'I gave you a ring. And it was always good when I came back on leave.'
'Oh aye. Made a change from poking some foreign tart up against a wall in the docks, did it? No! Listen for a change, Col. I knew it were over, long before we finished officially. You knew too, only you never could make your mind up to actually do owt, not without being pushed. I reckon your mam and dad knew too. They went right off me at the end, and I used to get on so well with them, especially your dad. Was it something you wrote to them? Did you have the nerve to tell them before you could tell me?'
'I never said anything to them,' he protested. 'And it was you who chucked the ring back, remember?'
'Aye, because if I hadn't I'd likely be wearing it yet and getting nowhere!' she cried. 'For God's sake, Col, face up to it. You'd given up on me. You didn't come back to Burrthorpe because your girl was here, you came back because your dad jumped down that shaft . . .'
He rose to his feet in one sinuous movement.
'Jumped?' he said softly. 'Who says he jumped? Why should he jump?'
'All right. Fell! There, you see, that's what gets you going, isn't it? That's what it's all about.'
'You think so?' He stood astride her, looking down. 'When I came back, all right, I was all uptight about me dad and worried about me mam. You get obsessed. There's no room for owt else.'
'And now there is?' she said sceptically.
'I think so. I think I'll mebbe take all that advice and bugger off again soon. You're right, I don't fit round here.'
'I'm glad to hear it.' She rolled away from his straddling legs and stood up, ignoring his proffered hand. He regarded her with a frown of concentration, like a bullfighter before a difficult bull.
'Come with me,' he said abruptly, an order more than a request.
'What? Are you daft? Leave Gav, you mean?'
'Why not? You can't love him.' he said contemptuously. 'What's he got to offer you? This?'
He looked around the bright room.
'This?' she said angrily. 'Aye, this. And what's wrong with it, Col? I'm twenty-four and what I've got already is more than my dad's ever given my mam, and she's nigh on fifty-four. Gavin's a good man, and he'll get on. He's got a good job . . .'
'A gaffer's job,' sneered Farr.
'Why do you say it like it's something dirty?' she demanded. 'Mebbe I'll take that kind of crap from some silly half-pissed bugger who thinks the Union's Godalmighty, but I'll not take it from you. What's the Union ever been to you, Colin Farr, except an excuse to crack a few heads open in the Strike? What's anything to you?'
'You are. You're everything.'
'Listen to the way that you say that!' she exclaimed. 'Like a line in a play that you've got to say so you can see what happens next.'
He considered this, then nodded as if in acknowledgement of its truth.
'What does happen next?' he inquired with polite interest. 'You and Gav live on here happy every after, is that it?'
'Mebbe not. But it'll not be you I leave with, Col.'
'Oh? There've been other irons in your fire, then? I've heard a few distant clangs.'
She began to gather her clothes together.
'Always clever with words, Col, I can recall you at school. You should've taken the chance then
'Mebbe.'
'Is that all I'm going to get?' she asked angrily. 'What do you think you're playing at, Col? That business in the Welfare the night you got jailed. Receipt for potato cakes, Jesus! And them phone calls. It is you, isn't it? I can feel you on the end of the line.'
'Can you? I hope I feel hard.'
She said, 'Col, what are you playing at? All right, don't tell me. Mebbe it's best I don't know. But I'll tell you something. You're out of place round here. You don't fit. Why don't you go off again?’
'Back to sea? Every bugger wants that. I remember the fuss you made first time I went. . .'
'I thought we had a future then, Col.'
'I gave you a ring. And it was always good when I came back on leave.'
'Oh aye. Made a change from poking some foreign tart up against a wall in the docks, did it? No! Listen for a change, Col. I knew it were over, long before we finished officially. You knew too, only you never could make your mind up to actually do owt, not without being pushed. I reckon your mam and dad knew too. They went right off me at the end, and I used to get on so well with them, especially your dad. Was it something you wrote to them? Did you have the nerve to tell them before you could tell me?'
'I never said anything to them,' he protested. 'And it was you who chucked the ring back, remember?'
'Aye, because if I hadn't I'd likely be wearing it yet and getting nowhere!' she cried. 'For God's sake, Col, face up to it. You'd given up on me. You didn't come back to Burrthorpe because your girl was here, you came back because your dad jumped down that shaft . . .'
He rose to his feet in one sinuous movement.
'Jumped?' he said softly. 'Who says he jumped? Why should he jump?'
'All right. Fell! There, you see, that's what gets you going, isn't it? That's what it's all about.'
'You think so?' He stood astride her, looking down. 'When I came back, all right, I was all uptight about me dad and worried about me mam. You get obsessed. There's no room for owt else.'
'And now there is?' she said sceptically.
'I think so. I think I'll mebbe take all that advice and bugger off again soon. You're right, I don't fit round here.'
'I'm glad to hear it.' She rolled away from his straddling legs and stood up, ignoring his proffered hand. He regarded her with a frown of concentration, like a bullfighter before a difficult bull.
'Come with me,' he said abruptly, an order more than a request.
'What? Are you daft? Leave Gav, you mean?'
'Why not? You can't love him.' he said contemptuously. 'What's he got to offer you? This?'
He looked around the bright room.
'This?' she said angrily. 'Aye, this. And what's wrong with it, Col? I'm twenty-four and what I've got already is more than my dad's ever given my mam, and she's nigh on fifty-four. Gavin's a good man, and he'll get on. He's got a good job . . .'
'A gaffer's job,' sneered Farr.
'Why do you say it like it's something dirty?' she demanded. 'Mebbe I'll take that kind of crap from some silly half-pissed bugger who thinks the Union's Godalmighty, but I'll not take it from you. What's the Union ever been to you, Colin Farr, except an excuse to crack a few heads open in the Strike? What's anything to you?'
'You are. You're everything.'
'Listen to the way that you say that!' she exclaimed. 'Like a line in a play that you've got to say so you can see what happens next.'
He considered this, then nodded as if in acknowledgement of its truth.
'What does happen next?' he inquired with polite interest. 'You and Gav live on here happy every after, is that it?'
'Mebbe not. But it'll not be you I leave with, Col.'
'Oh? There've been other irons in your fire, then? I've heard a few distant clangs.'
She began to gather her clothes together.
'Always clever with words, Col, I can recall you at school. You should've taken the chance then
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