Open Writing

“Have you been long out of the army, Mr Lewis?”

Miss Pike was looking carefully at the young man in front of her. He was about twenty years old, respectably dressed, didn’t have a lot to say for himself. They were sitting in the front room of Miss Pike’s Victorian house in Balham. Mr Lewis had telephoned her that morning to say that he was looking for lodgings in the London area, having been posted to one of the Ministries following his demobilisation after two years’ National Service. Her name, address and telephone number had been given to him by the Staff Welfare Department. They said she had accommodated other single people arriving in London at the beginning of their careers and, according to Staff Welfare, provided acceptable accommodation at a reasonable price. Miss Price also provided breakfast and an evening meal. On request and for an additional sum she would provide lunch at weekends, but that had to be arranged in advance.

Mr Lewis told her that he had left the army two months earlier and had returned to his parents in Leeds for a short holiday before resuming life as a civilian.

Mr Lewis had the impression that Miss Pike was assessing his suitability as a lodger rather more stringently than he was assessing her suitability as a landlady. Alongside her on the settee sat a small whitish dog wearing a tartan collar. There was a strong smell of dog in the room and dog hairs could be seen on the floor and on the upholstered furniture. Miss Pike caressed the animal from time to time as she questioned Mr Lewis about his requirements and habits, making it clear that she welcomed and got on well with lodgers who did not abuse the privilege of having their own key to the front door. She appreciated that young people new to the temptations of the capital might go off the rails a bit, but in view of her standing in the neighbourhood and out of consideration for the other lodgers - Mr Lewis had not appreciated that there might be other lodgers - she had to insist on an eleven o’clock deadline, a ‘no-visitors’ rule and a ban on alcohol in her house. She felt that Mr Lewis, fresh from the army as he was, would know what she was talking about.

She then stood up in order to lead him to the room she was offering. The small dog, no doubt accustomed to this routine, leapt to the floor, wagging its tail in anticipation. The three of them then proceeded out of the room and up a narrow staircase to the top of the house, which was reached via two landings, from which doors led off.

“Have you other lodgers at the moment, Miss Pike? asked Mr Lewis. “I was just wondering how you manage on your own.”

Miss Pike was not sure what she read into this question. She suspected an implied criticism. On the other hand, Mr Lewis may have been paying her a compliment, hinting that she was clearly a competent and popular landlady.

“Most of my lodgers are away at the moment. I obviously reduce the rent when they are away to just enough to compensate me for retaining their rooms until they return. Mr Plant is here at the moment. You will probably meet him later. If you find everything to your satisfaction, of course.” She added encouragingly: “He is about your age. I’m sure you’ll get on well together. He doesn’t always come in for an evening meal. He seems to have made a lot of friends here. Of course, I can’t reduce the rent because of meals not taken.”

She opened a door. The dog went ahead, sniffing along the skirting board until it came to a single divan covered by a plaid rug. It leapt on to the bed and stretched out comfortably.

“Does your dog have access to all the rooms in the house, Miss Pike?” asked Mr Lewis.

Miss Pike looked surprised and replied defensively.

“Of course not, Mr Lewis. Trixie will never disturb you. She has developed an uncanny knack of knowing when a room is occupied. I can assure you that she will respect your wish to be on your own. Will you be studying a lot, Mr Lewis ? I know a lot of young men seek to add to their qualifications to further their careers. In the winter you would probably find it warmer to work in the dining room. I would have no objection at all. In fact, I would welcome your company.”

Miss Pike smiled thinly and looked down, patting the hair at the back of her head decorously.

Mr Lewis surveyed the room. It was sparsely furnished with a large wardrobe, a door of which was open revealing three deep drawers in the lower half. There was a table and a straight-backed cane chair. A stained upholstered armchair, which might have been green at one time, occupied one corner. Alongside was a standard lamp with a cracked shade. The centre of the floor was covered by a thin grey rug. There were dog hairs and a dog smell everywhere. There were shelves in a modern veneered beechwood on one wall. Miss Pike drew his attention to this feature.

“I bought the shelves only last week, Mr Lewis. My brother put them up. They add a modern touch, don’t you think?”

Mr Lewis did not reply. The room did not remind him of home. Miss Pike did not remind him of his mother. On the other hand, a new chapter in his life was opening and he had no right, particularly on his salary, to expect the sort of surroundings associated in his young mind with a sophisticated life in a capital city.

Miss Pike noticed his hesitation. The time had come to make concessions.

“You will see that there are no pictures on the walls, no ornaments or knick-knacks. That’s because I like my lodgers to feel at home, to create their own, personal environment. If you want to put up your own pictures and things, just show me what you have in mind and we can agree where they can go. My brother would help with the hanging. He’s quite a handyman and he can be relied on to do things without making a mess. As a matter of fact, I’m thinking of asking him to redecorate some of my rooms. There’s nothing wrong with them, of course, but you have to keep up with the times, don’t you ”

“You don’t object to a radio, do you, Miss Pike?”

“Of course not. Not late at night, of course, or very early in the morning. One has to think about other lodgers, of course. I have one or two favourite programmes myself and there’s no reason why you shouldn’t join me from time to time downstairs, where I like a fire if it’s a bit chilly. I like Take It From Here, do you?”

Mr Lewis agreed that Take It From Here was a most entertaining programme.

Miss Pike then took him down one flight of stairs to the bathroom and drew attention to a few simple rules which had been set out on a card pinned to the inside of the door. She was sure that he would be able to come to an accommodation with the other lodgers about the use of the bathroom.

“The water is heated by this gas heater, which is excellent for normal requirements in the morning and evening. On Saturdays I get the boiler going in the basement, because Saturday night is bath night and there’s quite a drain on hot water then. Things work like clockwork here, Mr Lewis, believe me.”

Mr Lewis left the house after explaining to Miss Pike that he had one or two more places to look at. He would, he promised, telephone her that evening to let her know his decision. She smiled understandingly, but warned him that she could not keep the offer open indefinitely. There were, it seemed, many people wanting accommodation in London at this time of the year. She was getting telephone calls all the time. She reminded him, too, that the underground station was just around the corner.

In fact, Mr Lewis did not have any other places to look at. Miss Pike’s was the only address he had in London, a city he had only passed through before today. He had left the army in a joyful rush. The army had never wanted him and he had certainly never wanted the army. Nevertheless, it had looked after him for two years. He hadn’t learnt a lot from it. No, that wasn’t quite true. He had learnt a lot of things which would not, he hoped, be of use to him in later life. He had learnt how to kill people, how to comport himself on the parade ground in such a manner as to avoid being shouted at and humiliated by men whose only talent was to shout and humiliate, how to carry a bucket around so convincingly that for three days no-one had asked him what he was doing or where he was going. He had learnt how to write messages using abbreviations which were worth knowing only if you were a soldier. He had learnt how to divide a slab of butter into 36 (and, in difficult times, 48) small pieces, each of which would be issued to a soldier on a plate with two pieces of bread at mealtimes. He had learnt how to salute, never to attempt a discussion with anyone of superior rank and how to simulate minor ailments in order to alleviate the harshness and boredom of army life.

On the other hand, he had learnt that physical exercise can make you feel good, that adversity makes strange bedfellows (some of whom, he was convinced, would need professional help for the rest of their lives), that there were quite interesting places which he would like to revisit in different circumstances, and that some extremely stupid people could be surprisingly good companions.

The army, of course, had not prepared him for the likes of Miss Pike. The army had looked after him, but the arrangements had been non-negotiable. Now, he reflected sadly, he was on his own.

He went into a park, bought a cup of tea at a kiosk, sat down at a little table and thought about things. Then he telephoned Miss Pike to arrange to move in.

Mr Lewis met Mr Plant on his first morning at Miss Pike’s. Miss Pike was in the habit of preparing and serving breakfast in her dressing gown and then returning to bed to finish her interrupted sleep. Mr Plant, who seemed an experienced lodger, appeared in the kitchen, which also served as a dining room, only briefly. He was clearly in the habit of rushing off to work straight after his breakfast, which consisted of a glass of fruit juice, a cup of tea and, if it was ready, a slice of toast, which he would eat on his way out.

They acknowledged each other briefly.

“David Plant.”

“Ron Lewis.”

“Catch you later.”

“Sure.”

And he was gone.

Miss Pike placed in front of Mr Lewis a plate on which was his cooked breakfast. She noticed the door closing on Mr Plant and smiled indulgently.

“Young people today. Always in a hurry. If Mr Plant allowed himself more time, he would be able to manage a proper breakfast.”

Later Mr Lewis understood why Mr Plant preferred to skip the cooked breakfast and thought that he might adopt the same routine.

That first evening Miss Pike knocked at the door of Mr Lewis’s room. It remained closed.

“Hello?”

“Mr Lewis, I’d just thought that I’d check that everything was all right.”

“Everything’s fine, thank you.”

There was a pause.

“I though you might like to see the evening paper. I have it delivered. It seems a shame to throw it away after I’ve read it.”

Mr Lewis opened the door, extending his hand for the newspaper. Miss Pike’s eyes darted about the room as she handed it over. The little dog at her heels was about to enter when Mr Lewis stooped down, picked it up and presented it to her. Miss Pike seemed surprise, but accepted Trixie, at the same time saying that she was glad that Mr Lewis was settling down. She suddenly stopped and sniffed.

“What’s that?”

“What’s what, Miss Pike?”

“The smell, Mr Lewis, the smell.”

“Probably the Airwick.”

“What Airwick?”

“The Airwick I bought and put on the table. It’s a nice, fresh smell, don’t you think? You just soak this wick inside the bottle and then pull it out a bit at a time .. ”

“I know what Airwick is, Mr Lewis. Why should you want one?”

“It freshens the air. A room can get pretty stuffy with the windows closed all day. I remember you saying that you thought an open window was an invitation to burglars.”

Miss Pike recollected, as she hugged her dog to her chest, that she had said something of the kind when she explained to Mr Lewis the way she ran her establishment. But she wasn’t sure about the Airwick. There was a note of suspicion in her voice.

“There’s no fire danger, is there? I wouldn’t like to think ... ”

“Good Lord, no Safest thing in the world is Airwick. We use it at home, particularly in the kitchen. You should try it, Miss Pike. Thanks for the newspaper. You are very kind.”

Mr Lewis, not wishing to prolong the conversation, was slowly but firmly closing the door. Miss Pike sniffed, turned and, pausing only to deposit Trixie on the floor, made her way back to her own quarters.

Twice during the first week Miss Pike explained that she would be out in the evening and would leave Mr Lewis a prepared salad for his evening meal. Mr Lewis found the salad skimpy and unimaginative. On each occasion the dessert was a small sponge cake in a decorative cup made of greaseproof paper.

Mr Lewis asked about the bathing arrangements at the weekend.

“This weekend,” explained Miss Pike, “my two sisters will be staying with me. My elder sister, Naomi, is headmistress of a private girls’ school in Brighton and my younger sister, Elspeth, is a secretary in Nottingham. We so rarely have an opportunity of meeting these days.”

Mr Lewis waited.

“If I start the boiler early,” continued Miss Pike, “there should be enough water for all of us. Mr Plant is away this weekend.”

“If you like, Miss Pike, I’ll take the first bath and get out of your way. I’m thinking of going out for the evening.”

Miss Pike looked doubtful.

“I don’t know what our plans are at the moment. So we’d better be prepared to be flexible.”

The flexibility mentioned by Miss Pike, however, worked to Mr Lewis’s disadvantage. All three women took successive baths. As Mr Lewis, who had been patiently waiting his turn and observing the comings and goings through the slightly open door of his room, grabbed his towel - Miss Pike provided bed linen but not personal items, such as towels - and made his way along the landing, he heard Miss Pike addressing him from below.

“Mr Lewis.”

“Yes, Miss Pike?”

“Can I have a word, please?”

He went down. Miss Pike was dressed for outdoors. She smelt of lavender.

“Mr Lewis, I’m afraid the boiler is very old and not at all reliable. It uses solid fuel and is extremely difficult to get going. Once it’s gone out, I’m afraid ... “

“You are telling me, Miss Pike, that you and your sisters have used all the hot water, that the boiler is no longer functioning and that as a result I cannot have a bath?”

Miss Pike frowned. She did not like his tone.

“Yes,” she said. She could almost touch the self-control in his voice as he continued the conversation.

“When are you going to light the boiler again, Miss Pike?”

Miss Pike looked surprised and offended.

“Why, next weekend, of course. It should be easier then. My sisters won’t ... “

“And what do I do for a bath till then?”

“I can help you there, Mr Lewis. In Great Smith Street - quite close to Whitehall where you said you worked - there’s a public baths. I’m told that they provide both soap and towel quite cheaply. Many of my lodgers have spoken highly of the courtesy of the service.”

“So this has happened before? Your lodgers not being able to get a bath they have a right to expect for the money they pay?”

Miss Pike’s original doubts about Mr Lewis’s suitability as a lodger were being confirmed. She was not used to such unprovoked belligerence. Mr Lewis had not finished, however.

“Miss Pike, I have put up with the smell of your dog and her hairs all over my room. And I have said nothing about the terrible food here and your petty restrictions, but this is the last straw. I am leaving now.”

Miss Pike quivered.

“This is not a hotel, Mr Lewis. I do my best and my rates are very reasonable. I provide a professional service .... “

But Mr Lewis was not there. He was on his way to his room to start packing.

Miss Pike’s sisters appeared and asked what all the noise was about. Tears were starting in Miss Pike’s eyes. Each sister took a hand and started to stroke her. She was not making much sense.

“I make them welcome here. I let them into my own home. I feed them and shelter them and introduce them to civilised, courteous behaviour. I try to stop them getting into trouble. I’m like a mother to them. They don’t know the difficulties I have, how hard it is ... ”

Naomi and Elspeth looked at each other and led their sister into the kitchen. There were sounds of tea being made.