Posted: Fri Jun 09, 2006 12:21 am Post subject: The Loving Couple.
Albert was the Dandy of the Eagle Tavern. Each evening would see him propping up the bar, (or, to be more precise, the bar would prop up Albert.)
As I say, Albert was a real Dandy, in the 40's and 50's he would have been probably called a Spiv. But when I met him in 1962 his Spiv days clung to him like the remains of a faded dream. True, he wore his 'sharp' suits, always had a clean hanky in his breast pocket, silk ties, and patent leather shoes that really shone. He worked as Manager in an Army Surplus store, where he spent his days flogging cheap sleeping-bags, blankets, mess cans, and general camping equipment. I sometimes used to visit the shop on a Saturday morning before Opening Time at the Eagle Tavern, and he'd usually manage to sell me a 'bargain' of some sort. Then we'd both pop over to the pub for our usual Saturday lunchtime drink.
Now I don't know about you, but I have always been attracted to 'charecters', that is to say people with an eccentric or artistic nature. Why I don't know, unless it's because I'm that way myself, (slightly artistic, very eccentric). Albert was definitly a 'Charecter'. In his cups one evening he told me how he had tried to avoid being conscripted for the Army, but he was unlucky, and the Powers-that -Be put him in an Army uniform and tried to make him a soldier. They weren't very successful, however, and one night he had an 'argument' with a Bren-Gun Carrier truck whilst rolling back to camp. He ended up in a ditch by the side of the road, with a smashed right leg. He lay there in the ditch all that night, and was found rather the worse for wear the following day. After a lengthy spell in hospital he was discharged from the Army with a small pension and a prothesis.
Yes, Dandy Albert had a wooden leg. To be more precise, he had a wooden leg that squeaked! You could tell the weather twenty-four hours in advance by Albert's leg. You see, it only squeaked when rain was due. The rest of the time, it clicked!
Albert also had a girlfriend, who, in her younger days, had been one of the most 'successful' prostitutes to walk the streets outside the nearby Naval Dockyard, but as with all things, as age took it's toll on her looks, Betty had to content herself with less business, and older and poorer clients. To compensate, Betty drank. To be more explicit, Betty drank like a fish! Vast amounts of gin in fact, a goodly percentage paid for by Albert.
But for all her faults, Albert loved her, and she loved him. They lived together in a Bedsit in a run-down part of town near the docks.
All the regulars at the Eagle loved them too. You just couldn't help it, they were a beautiful couple, not in looks, as time hadn't been too kind to either of them, but they both exuded warmth and love to everyone they met. Each night at closing time, they'd stagger out into the street , and weave their way home, Albert's leg clicking or squeaking according to the weather.
One evening, Albert proudly announced to the whole pub that he and Betty were going to get married.
"He's going to make an honest woman of me", smiled Betty, happily.
Everyone congratulated them both.
I compared them with my own parents whose lives were worlds apart from Albert and Bettys. My parents had 'made it', and wanted for nothing. Albert and Betty were 'Drop-Outs' compared to them.
One evening about a month after the wedding announcement, they never turned up at the pub. Mind you, the weather was cold and wet, so you couldn't really blame them, but we missed them.The evening just wasn't the same without them somehow. Little then did we know that our pub evenings were never going to be the same again for any of us regulars.
I found out about the tradgedy the following day, it being a Saturday, I called into Albert's shop as usual, but to my suprise he wasn't there. The Shop Owner hadn't seen him for two days, nor had he heard from him. I drove around to their Bedsit, and knocked on the front door of the house. His landlady opened it, and I asked her if I could see Albert or Betty.
"Haven't you heard then?" she asked.
"Heard what?" I replied.
She bluntly told me the bad news. Betty had been hit by a car a couple of days ago, and had been killed, and a distraught Albert had walked out to the end of the peir from the hospital, and had jumped into the harbour. He couldn't swim.
The Coroner at the Inquest recorded a verdict of 'Death by Misadventure' on Betty, and one of 'Suicide whilst the balance of his mind had been disturbed', on Albert.
I really enjoy these short stories, I bet you could get a compilation published without to much hassle these days. They are the sort of story that would appeal to most folk. Well Done
Ken it's because I was finding it difficult to get my material accepted by Publishers that I have decieded to 'go public' on here.
However, having said that, the next story, (a true one) was published in 1994 in a National Motoring magazine called 'Jalopy'. I even recieved a cheque for it some weeks later.
Writing is just another hobby of mine, but I did once have dreams of becoming a well-known author.
But if these storys and articles of mine give people pleasure on here, at least I won't have written them for nothing.
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