'Tickets, Please!', D. H. Lawrence [best way to read an ebook .TXT] 📗

>When the cinema was over they went for a walk across the dark, damp fields. He had all the arts of love-making. He was especially good at holding a girl, when he sat with her on a stile in the black, drizzling darkness. He seemed to be holding her in space, against his own warmth and gratification. And his kisses were soft and slow and searching.

So Annie walked out with John Joseph, though she kept her own boy dangling in the distance. Some of the tram-girls chose to be huffy. But there, you must take things as you find them, in this life.

There was no mistake about it, Annie liked John Joseph a good deal. She felt so pleasant and warm in herself, whenever he was near. And John Joseph really liked Annie, more than usual. The soft, melting way in which she could flow into a fellow, as if she melted into his very bones, was something rare and gratifying. He fully appreciated this.

But with a developing acquaintance there began a developing intimacy. Annie wanted to consider him a person, a man; she wanted to take an intelligent interest in him, and to have an intelligent response. She did not want a mere nocturnal presence-which was what he was so far. And she prided herself that he could not leave her.

Here she made a mistake. John Joseph intended to remain a nocturnal presence, he had no idea of becoming an all-round individual to her. When she started to take an intelligent interest in him and his life and his character, he sheered off. He hated intelligent interest. And he knew that the only way to stop it was to avoid it. The possessive female was aroused in Annie. So he left her.

It was no use saying she was not surprised. She was at first startled, thrown out of her count. For she had been so very sure of holding him. For a while she was staggered, and everything became uncertain to her. Then she wept with fury, indignation, desolation, and misery. Then she had a spasm of despair. And then, when he came, still impudently, on to her car, still familiar, but letting her see by the movement of his eyes that he had gone away to somebody else, for the time being, and was enjoying pastures new, then she determined to have her own back.

She had a very shrewd idea what girls John Joseph had taken out. She went to Nora Purdy. Nora was a tall, rather pale, but well-built girl, with beautiful yellow hair. She was somewhat secretive.

‘Hey!’ said Annie, accosting her; then, softly: ‘Who’s John Joseph on with now?’

‘I don’t know,’ said Nora.

‘Why tha does,’ said Annie, ironically lapsing into dialect. ‘Tha knows as well as I do.’

‘Well, I do, then,’ said Nora. ‘It isn’t me, so don’t bother.’

‘It’s Cissy Meakin, isn’t it?’

‘It is for all I know.’

‘Hasn’t he got a face on him!’ said Annie. ‘I don’t half like his cheek! I could knock him off the footboard when he comes round me!’

‘He’ll get dropped on one of these days,’ said Nora.

‘Ay, he will when somebody makes up their mind to drop it on him. I should like to see him taken down a peg or two, shouldn’t you?’

‘I shouldn’t mind,’ said Nora.

‘You’ve got quite as much cause to as I have,’ said Annie. ‘But we’ll drop on him one of these days, my girl. What! don’t you want to?’

‘I don’t mind,’ said Nora.

But as a matter of fact Nora was much more vindictive than Annie.

One by one Annie went the round of the old flames. It so happened that Cissy Meakin left the tramway service in quite a short time. Her mother made her leave. Then John Joseph was on the qui vive. He cast his eyes over his old flock. And his eyes lighted on Annie. He thought she would be safe now. Besides, he liked her.

She arranged to walk home with him on Sunday night. It so happened that her car would be in the depot at half-past nine: the last car would come in at ten-fifteen. So John Joseph was to wait for her there.

At the depot the girls had a little waiting-room of their own. It was quite rough, but cosy, with a fire and an oven and a mirror and table and wooden chairs. The half-dozen girls who knew John Joseph only too well had arranged to take service this Sunday afternoon. So as the cars began to come in early, the girls dropped into the waiting-room. And instead of hurrying off home they sat round the fire and had a cup of tea.

John Joseph came on the car after Annie, at about a quarter to ten. He poked his head easily into the girls’ waiting-room.

‘Prayer meeting?’ he asked.

‘Ay,’ said Laura Sharp. ‘Ladies’ effort.’

‘That’s me!’ said John Joseph. It was one of his favourite exclamations.

‘Shut the door, boy,’ said Muriel Baggaley.

‘On which side of me?’ said John Joseph.

‘Which tha likes,’ said Polly Birken.

He had come in and closed the door behind him. The girls moved in their circle to make a place for him near the fire. He took off his greatcoat and pushed back his hat.

‘Who handles the teapot?’ he said.

Nora silently poured him out a cup of tea.

‘Want a bit o’ my bread and dripping?’ said Muriel Baggaley to him.

‘Ay, all’s welcome.’

And he began to eat his piece of bread.

‘There’s no place like home, girls,’ he said.

They all looked at him as he uttered this piece of impudence. He seemed to be sunning himself in the presence of so many damsels.

‘Especially if you’re not afraid to go home in the dark,’ said Laura Sharp.

‘Me? By myself I am!’

They sat till they heard the last tram come in. In a few minutes Emma Housely entered.

‘Come on, my old duck!’ cried Polly Birkin.

‘It is perishing,’ said Emma, holding her fingers to the fire.

‘“But I’m afraid to go home in the dark,”’ sang Laura Sharp, the tune having got into her mind.

‘Who’re you going with tonight, Mr Raynor?’ asked Muriel Baggaley, coolly.

‘Tonight?’ said John Joseph. ‘Oh, I’m going home by myself tonight-all on my lonely-o.’

‘That’s me!’ said Nora Purdy, using his own ejaculation. The girls laughed shrilly.

‘Me as well, Nora,’ said John Joseph.

‘Don’t know what you mean,’ said Laura.

‘Yes, I’m toddling,’ said he, rising and reaching for his coat.

‘Nay,’ said Polly. ‘We’re all here waiting for you.’

‘We’ve got to be up in good time in the morning,’ he said, in the benevolent official manner. They all laughed.

‘Nay,’ said Muriel. ‘Don’t disappoint us all.’ ‘I’ll take the lot, if you like,’ he responded, gallantly.

‘That you won’t, either,’ said Muriel. ‘Two’s company; seven’s too much of a good thing.’

‘Nay, take one,’ said Laura. ‘Fair and square, all above board, say which one.’

‘Ay!’ cried Annie, speaking for the first time. ‘Choose, John Joseph-let’s hear thee.’

‘Nay,’ he said. ‘I’m going home quiet tonight.’ He frowned at the use of his double name.

‘Who says?’ said Annie. ‘Tha’s got to ta’e one.’

‘Nay, how can I take one?’ he said, laughing uneasily. ‘I don’t want to make enemies.’

‘You’d only make one,’ said Annie, grimly.

‘The chosen one,’ said Laura. A laugh went up.

‘Oh, ay! Who said girls!’ exclaimed John Joseph, again turning as if to escape. ‘Well, good-night!’

‘Nay, you’ve got to take one,’ said Muriel. ‘Turn your face to the wall, and say which one touches you. Go on-we shall only just touch your back-one of us. Go on-turn your face to the wall, and don’t look, and say which one touches you.’

They pushed him to a wall and stood him there with his face to it. Behind his back they all grimaced, tittering. He looked so comical.

‘Go on!’ he cried.

‘You’re looking-you’re looking!’ they shouted.

He turned his head away. And suddenly, with a movement like a swift cat, Annie went forward and fetched him a box on the side of the head that sent his cap flying. He started round.

But at Annie’s signal they all flew at him, slapping him, pinching him, pulling his hair, though more in fun than in spite or anger. He, however, saw red. His blue eyes flamed with strange fear as well as fury, and he butted through the girls to the door. It was locked. He wrenched at it. Roused, alert, the girls stood round and looked at him. He faced them, at bay. At that moment they were rather horrifying to him, as they stood in their short uniforms. He became suddenly pale.

‘Come on, John Joseph! Come on! Choose!’ said Annie.

‘What are you after? Open the door,’ he said.

‘We sha’n’t-not till you’ve chosen,’ said Muriel.

‘Chosen what?’ he said.

‘Chosen the one you’re to marry,’ she replied. The girls stood back in a silent, attentive group.

He hesitated a moment:

‘Open the confounded door,’ he said, ‘and get back to your senses.’ He spoke with official authority.

‘You’ve got to choose,’ cried the girls.

He hung a moment; then he went suddenly red, and his eyes flashed.

‘Come on! Come on!’ cried Annie.

He went forward, threatening. She had taken off her belt and, swinging it, she fetched him a sharp blow over the head with the buckle end. He rushed with lifted hand. But immediately the other girls flew at him, pulling him and pushing and beating him. Their blood was now up. He was their sport now. They were going to have their own back, out of him. Strange, wild creatures, they hung on him and rushed at him to bear him down. His tunic was torn right up the back. Nora had hold at the back of his collar, and was actually strangling him. Luckily the button-hole burst. He struggled in a wild frenzy of fury and terror, almost mad terror. His tunic was torn off his back as they dragged him, his shirt-sleeves were torn away, one arm was naked. The girls simply rushed at him, clenched their hands and pulled at him; or they rushed at him and pushed him, butted him with all their might.

At last he was down. They rushed him, kneeling on him. He had neither breath nor strength to move. His face was bleeding with a long scratch.

Annie knelt on him, the other girls knelt and hung on to him. Their faces were flushed, their hair wild, their eyes were all glittering strangely. He lay at last quite still, with face averted, as an animal lies when it is defeated and at the mercy of the captor.

Sometimes his eye glanced back at the wild faces of the girls. His breast rose heavily, his wrists were scratched and bleeding.

‘Now then, my fellow!’ gasped Annie at length.

‘Now then-now—’

At the sound of her terrifying, cold triumph, he suddenly started to struggle as an animal might, but the girls threw themselves upon him with unnatural strength and power, forcing him down.

‘Yes-now then!’ gasped Annie at length. And there was a dead silence, in which the thud of heartbeating was to be heard. It was a suspense of pure silence in every soul.

‘Now you know where you are,’ said Annie.

The sight of his white, bare arm maddened the girls. He lay in a kind of trance of fear and antagonism. They felt themselves filled with supernatural strength.

Suddenly Polly started to laugh-to giggle wildly-helplessly- and Emma and Muriel joined in. But Annie and Nora and Laura remained the same, tense, watchful, with gleaming eyes. He winced away from these eyes.

‘Yes,’ said Annie, recovering her senses a little.

‘Yes, you may well lie there! You know what you’ve