Six gin houses apart in England in the 17th century and beyond the trade bouncing them men pub crawling. The daughters back then did not live long enough to have their pensionable age and not living that long was less costly to the nation.
The gin palaces as them were known as. The gin palaces they are there in our memories the gin palaces crawling with whores and their tits out pub crawling gin smacked males out about and into all sorts. The Bobbies had to be made in order to make them sit down in jail for a slap up sleep.
“Slap down sleep or else slapped into jail transports into Aussie land where you will be bond in chains.”
“Them chain gangs we are to be chain ganged rape. Oh mummy.”
“Or you can take your pick and go out to sea?”
“You mean pirates?”
“I have no good qualifications to be a pirate sir.”
“The sea captains do get away with being well bred but to join the pirates one must be qualified sir.”
“Have you lost your mind?”
“No not at all sir.”
“You mean you disagree that his is a serious offence?”
“What offence sir?”
“You just picked my nose.”
“No did I sir”?
“Sorry so sorry sir thought I was Shirley Temple sir.”
“Now we must not be disagreeable.”
“I am sorry sir her being diplomatic made me not think sir?”
“On the good ship lolly pop sir?”
“How dare you ruin her reputations?”
“I did not ask to be told not to say anything sir. I believe in the freedom of speech not only the King’s speech but for the little women back home too.”
“You talk too much?”
“I daresay I must someone has to say the right words sir.”
“You are saying that Shirley Temple no she was a dear child.”
“I daresay she was sir.”
“What can you mean?”
“She sold so many dolls sir.”
“Then became a diplomatic thing sir. Everyone surprised she had a brain sir. Indeed I was too when she became a diplomat knew languages and did not mince matters. Me I thought she was not right for the job looked severe at me as if her soft days were over.. In fact reminded me of my mother.”
“Never mind about your mother you are my mother’s child I must take care of you??”
“What I dislike the thought that I should be married.”
“Why he is nice.”
“What I can’t marry a nice man.”
“He is not a Nancy?”
“Why what is he? And why are you interested in him if he is not a Nancy?”
“Look I want something he has.”
“What is that?”
“Well I want to know what he has then I can get it for you.”
“You have to marry him first.”
“Not at all that would spoil my clean living image today I am thoughtfully becoming a Saint.”
“A Saint you a Saint. Where did I go wrong. It was them books that I gave you I take them back.”
“But I am still reading them the life of the Prophet’s wife is most interesting I want to re-read it. I might get some clues on how to commit murder and then give it to the young man.”
“You are fired.”
“Whatever next? I have not done anything wrong? It is the truth is not it.”
“She did not murder her husbands’ they died of old age.”
“Why did she marry them in the first place?”
This is the school I went to a nice decent Catholic school and it could not have been more decent if they tried. In North London where the decent folk were in the late sixties. The school filled with the fistful of learning the good bible and how not to do it. Whenever we asked they said if you don’t know then it does not matter it matters if you learn and do it and that is why it is how not to do it.
The group who were not to learn how not to do it were the good Turks who always do not understand how to do it anyway but they do it to a certainty. As the swelling population shows them knowing all the time and how to do it wrong makes their lives right.
“The others were outside waiting for the thing to end they had to be witness to the deed so that they could say it was amiable. That it was consensual that it made it easier to deal with that way. Their parents did that back home they will start to do this here.”
The man who was dressed as a boy had an alibi and he did not care that he would be caught he had made his planned get away and he did not make mistakes.
“He said he was good at describing he took a good look at me knew me he said he knew what I looked like he knew me he said the words at WC as he lay on the floor as I took my shoes off he took care to look at me as if every part of me he memorised. He said to tell the man who would become important to me so he can destroy me. He told me as he lay his head on the floor if he got up without a shag then my life would be over done with. He never went out hunting and come back empty. He took the girl no matter what he took the girls thing no matter what. He never left empty he never left empty.”
“I am not ten years old I am not ten years old.”
“Take your pick just take your pick.”
“He tried to grab my leg then. I ran he slipped as if he had fallen further there was a ouch.”
“The tap had no note on the tap had no note on why did nobody tell me about the tap? No note on the bloody tap what do servants do but take notes not accounted for the tap had nothing written the note not there.”
“I told you about the tap?”
“You don’t count.”
“I am sorry that I don’t count that my word is not important there it is the note here the tap not noticed here is the thing just fuck off.”
“Oh I will honey I will.”
“Yes that is good. That is very good natured boy you are.”
“Yes I sure am.”
“I don’t know how I got outside. I don’t know how I got outside did not expect to do so.”
I was breathing heavy and then noticed them others as if sight for sore eyes and was just about to call out. Just about to say something silly nearly happened then I could hear the whisperings the whisperings as they made nonsense of all my school days.
They moved across as if soldiers or something bandit like their heads heaving with excitement as if the hunt the kill was near. They called each other in muted hissings and even bird calls. Them so excited nothing like this has happened to us ever. It is big hunting I must say.
He looked like a boy enjoying a pleasant amble or some sort of cinema some sort of something which he liked to think of as pleasure. He looked like all his friends in there looking at how to do things in the future. He was as if there to learn to do the exact thing he had been a witness to.
For the first time I saw that he was not a conquering hero but a boy. A little boy out and about doing something horrid but he had no idea what and how terrible it was. That he had nothing else on his mind than that it was some sort of ritual some sort of initiation some sort of thing. The rich did to the poor. To girls especially the beastly things which he detested he said as much he liked Emine because she was not like any girl. What was Emine then some other kind of a girl she looked the same as me whatever did he mean by that?
I was some sort of thing which little unprotected girls had done to them and he did not think it any the less unpleasant or pleasant. That it was a rape that made it of interest to all of them. Even it gave his money the sense to make his means and livelihood better. If he got it right he was made in his life. That his own family did not have to do the same or anyone he cared for would never be so shamed as this girl was being done to.
This girl just happened to be me.
That was from the boy I had adored thought the world of thought myself not equal to thought him better than all my heroics and dreams. The boy who looked like some fool. Such a mere copy of some dead dream. He looked unequal to my dreams he looked like toy copy. Somehow did not strike me as noble or even a thing to be near to. In fact such a common little boy. He appealed to me no longer.
“Commoner common little boy.”
“Common little boy who made me into a dangerous woman?”
“Common little thug?”
“Common just common.”
“Common little pervert who would have let me be shagged while he watched?”
“Yes him over there with his dear friends.”
“Watchful as ever nobody passes through him.”
“Common little thug.”
“Perverted little wife.”
“Shocked up little common has been little moron who has pretensions as his living.”
“I am not married to you?”
“Pretend to be a man then.”
“Little things just you see.”
“You are never going to be anything else.”
The tears in his eyes are real.
“Oh did you hurt yourself sissy?”
“Look leave us alone.”
“Oh the good Emine will take your part. My God she will protect you. Look she will make you smell nicely boy.”
“She will mend your penis and make you dry when you wet yourself. Dear Emine take a spare she might need it when you are alone.”
“Look get lost.”
“My to lose this is too far much too good.”
“Dirty cheap whore.”
“My to think the language improvement classes did not help.”
“Emine.” He said as he shuddered, “I am now dead.”
I think that he had not realised that I had fancied him had made him into my idol until that moment. My saying them things to him made him realise that he was in such deep shit trouble and that he had in fact made the errors which a boy should not have done. He had made the mistake of making himself the laughing stock because he could have been the male lead and he could have had been my boy friend and this was not on him sitting there and allowing the other male to take his parts. Him being sat in that corner instead of being in that toilet had made them all ridiculous.
He had not known in fact had not realised that I had become infatuated with him in fact he could have been the lead and now he sat there petrified in fact humiliated by the realisation that he had in fact become the goose instead of the gender. There he was playing gooseberries instead he could have had the main course.
He could have had the main course instead of gooseberries? He could have been the main course instead of deserting his post.
“Boys these days do not mature like in the old days.. Boys back home mature sooner.”
“Yes mummy raped me father when he was ten.”
“My auntie raped me when me seven years old or older I can’t add up.”
“When we are married we are supposed to be out enjoying our lives.”
“We are married and shagged all the time.”
“Me asking you is this the way to treat me?”
“I say dare not say. But him in there looking a bit wet?”
“I wet my pants.”
“You were not supposed to have done so?”
“Go in there and get wet otherwise you will look ridiculous.” Said Emine kindly to her boyfriend.
“Emine do you know you are the loveliest old bird in the school?”
“How old do you think I am?” Emine got up and left him.
“Hi boys just in case you are going to fornicate can you please tell the headmistress there is a good guy out there in the toilet having a brain?”
“Him without a brain don’t be silly. Him an adult.”
“What is that?”
“An adult is ?”
“Can you tell me what an adult is?”
“Ask the headmistress.”
“We are hugging.”
“Whatever is that?”
“Headmistress office is here and here. It is no it is where? Oh my God. I did not see that. Not at all. What do I say? Headmistress there is a couple of lads doing something in the arena and a man is in the toilet without any morals?”
“There is the office? It is here in here I brag in and find the headmistress drinking tea with something from the safe. She seems a bit unsteady but it is from something nice. It is an expensive thing in her cup she is so pleased she smiles because she was saying the other day that she had run dry. She places the key in the draw as she turns round and sits on her seat a huge dark place which she very comfy but a bit dulled with age. Because the leather is worn and a bit shabby after all the wear and tear of it. There she is and Miss Bottom walks in and finds us so.”
“Ah Miss Bottom what is that child doing here?”
“And put your pants up child.” Said Miss something.
“There is the minutes you were asking for??”
“Why are still in your slip?”
“I am in my slip because a boy put my pants down.”
“Why did he do that and what was he in the toilet for is the boys not working Mrs... Why is not this been reported to me?”
“I had no idea the boys toilet was not working at all.”
“In fact... “ I had the image of the two boys mating and they were working or so I thought.
“Never mind.” Said the Headmistress very kind. Looking very lost as the cup still full with the drink she so liked.
“I am put into the corner.” Like someone out of use and this added to my place of someone not there at all someone not even heard not heard not heard at all. Someone from the lower ground shouting to be heard to be heard.
“I am trying to explain something Miss.”
“What is that child?”
“I have put my pants up so do you want me to go through it again?”
“What a nasty girl.”
“No morals these ethnic black girls.”
“I’m I black?” I want to go to the mirror to find out. If I am indeed black last time I did not appear to be so. I am wondering if I am indeed black and indeed if my colour is black which would not do at all. I start to fidget if indeed that is my colour it would explain everything that has happened today. I am in the slave trade because I have turned black. Indeed it is a wicked thing to have sensed that day that indeed my colour now is black so into the trade of slaves. I will be shipped out and made into a servant of the Savannah and indeed the wicked man will not even marry me as I do not look like Elizabeth Taylor at all.
Indeed I am in the balcony and there is Barbara and she is making them all look so odd as she is behaving so like a white woman but Taylor has the man who is in the suit and she is adding to her numbers of people who will kill the Savannah. At the Savannah they all hot and bothered. No in those days no air conditioning.
They have to migrate to some place or the cotton won’t get picked because them slaves are not employed for a decent wage. Indeed Elizabeth Taylor or is it Maureen O’ Hara goes and picks the cotton herself.
As she is better diplomat than them male folk. Them slaves made mighty hearty with the ladyship with them now work and work till they drop. Them working like niggers and making a lot of landowners mighty happy. Them now rich and the black folk good niggers now. No more troubles they have they sing and pick cotton bone dry and their song is all over the Savannah.
Therefore making a lot rich money and then the child born to the couple who had been poor now who have become rich and no longer the lovable couple. Them snobs and into fine living and making each other so jealous with their flirtatious mean manners.
The wife is away the husband has become something that is nice only to his child spoilt it rotten. The child will only listen to his warnings his words not to hers. The tug of war child the tug of war which they gave the child spoilt it rotten.
Presents and more of the same anything but discipline and love anything but grown behaviour anything but adult model role model nothing but this pet talk this endless pet talk this endless amusements this endless pet talking this is not the real world.
Fetch this to your daddy so that he might see that you are due for a present ride. Fetch this to your mother so she is less shaming me by placing her into the centre so that everyone can laugh while she merriments in public. Fetch some manners to your father so his mistress doesn’t wed the governor while he watches.
The child is the only thing that has come out of them that is good or anything human binding their marriage and making them stick together. The father gives the child a pony she has always wanted. She sits on the pony on the first day which is her birthday. The spoilt darling and the mother who had not paid attention to the danger.
The child hopping along, on her pony.
“Look daddy me on the pony what would mummy say now?”
“Look daddy me on the pony still?”
Then over confident, she falls. The pony unused to her steps on her.
“Oh my God.”
“The master mad oh my God master has gone mad.” Said the black maid as she wrings her hands in the enjoyment that it is not her child. The monster who gave her such trouble is no more trouble as she shrugs in terror what would happen now when there is nobody to pay the bills? The mistress must come home and have another baby so the bills could be paid. The future is as stake the future of Savannah them mistress had the one baby them white folk not very good on that score.
There is a scream a shattered screams all screams round and round vibrating round the whole of Africa as the mother comes and tells him what he is. No good no good her having been spoilt because problems between him and her and her child their dying because of their end of marriage not her child now dead and it is all his bloody fault. The only good thing between them now dead.
She has a pony and then the pony makes the child die. By the child showing off and having an accident. The father notices and runs for her and then the child is beyond help.
“That child more grown up told you more grown up then she should have been and you spoilt that child to spite me. That child you spoilt would not allow me near her and she now dead the child now dead.”
And the mother faints down as if dead.
In fact ruins their marriage. Maureen O’Hara is most upset and there they are at the little lovers seat alone and telling each other what a beautiful child they had.
When Clark Gable gets up and leaves saying that if only Maureen O’Hara had not been such a horror and a bad mother they would not have lost their only child. This made me so sad I lost the plot.
You see after that drama my little problem did not appear to be major.
“Do you think this is important?”
“I will deal with it.”