comments: selection. He commented: Pretty Bubbles in the Air. version.
A t the centre of the back row of the Royal British Legion Band stood the drummer and the cymbalist. The one was a tall. plexioned man WITT expression on his face; he was beating at the drum strapped to his chest and looking away towards the stands. The with a grey moustache and a nervous Most of the time he held the cymbals hy his side, bur when he did clash them it was with an awkward deliberateness. They INCOnSTUDUs TaI standing heati of the band, with so little feeling for music.
Andy smiled to himself: he liked the spectacie of the hand, even if he did not like the naise it made.
had lobbed a hat dog into the tuba; they had good further oul on inc pitch since then And now, ladies and gentlemen, the moment you' ve all been waiting for; a distoricd voice Cnnuscu over ine loudspeaker system.
A quiet spread around the ground. even the chants of "West Ham" behind Te goss occom ne ALDOUCA conductor raised his baton high, bis glasses glinting in the sun. Andy tell the hair at the back of his head bristle a fittle: atoments Jike this brought out a sentimental streak in him. The hand lingered flamboyantly aver the nule of ihe intro.
*I'm forever blowing bubbles, preuy bubbles in the air"
The singing had begun All roond the terraces, arts were libked and bodies swayed from side to side.
Dave stood alongside Andy in the middle of the West Enclosure. He delested scenes like this, grown up men behaving like little boys. right, a man with spots all over lis face and a claret-and-blue scar meatly ried round his neck office worker. still sving mother - tried to catch hold or bis He pulled hack chrusting his hands intothe pockets of his long maroon overcoat. He felt like grabbing the man's shoulders shaking hum senseless, throtling him himself. It was one thing to watch football on i Saturday alternoon; it was quite anther to be drageed into adolescent rituals, swaying arm-in arm just for a footbail tenm.
They ily so high, nearly reach the sky.
Tisen like my dreams they fade and die.
Each time the line swaved to the right, Andy was buffeled by the man next to him. Fach time it swased to SocIe, Bove drew menel de caEt Lo avoid the spolty faced office worker. He turned to Andy.
'Have you read about this song?" be askod in a loud voice that jarred deliberately with the singing.
SOCIALIST CHALLENGE 20 April1978 page B This short story was selected by feminist writer Fay Weldon as her first choice among the entries submitted for our Xmas short story competition. These were her A simplestory, written out of a real and not a received experience, properly shaped, and (most difficult to achieve) moving without being sentimental. Stephen Chalkeis the kind of a natural writer (and there are few enough of them about) who can find meaning in ordinary experience. He could afford to throw out a few adjectives and be more precise in his use of language, but never mind (what is a distracted look?)
John Fowles, whose novels include The French Lietenant's Woman, placed the story second in his A nicely shaded study of the multiple alienations, both personal and social, underlying the friendship between two young men, all done in the context of a West Ham home match. With one or two very small revisions, this would be well worth publishing. Following these comments, Stephen Chalke revised *Which iwkwardly. bass ruddy-comSTRUI to them.
Point", actually?
ALOUIS CITICT seemed place, but he enjoyed it. at the though, he them were thinking conversation "Fortune's looked everywhere He swaying bodies around him. resignatien about this song. "It's Bubbles appalling, he Wei Ham right realls.
bubhles in the air.
danger point.
To.hi said.
DEMENTSS bis from bim.
Dave hared and his acceptance about would be becomning like his subur ban This face gainst that now.
A the Larkin poem We present the revised Andy replied "It's in that volume before -"'Whitsun Weddings", Dave always hesitated a lot while he was talking as if the words were blowing around his head and he found it hard to hold on *Called something like ""Dry Point*. 1 think it is called "Dry went lo football by himself: when he did, he joined in the always 5a00 30119 because he felt his accent was out of With Dave, felt wondered what the men in front of 8 BOLLE INCI always hiding, I've Dave was only a little faller than Andy but he stood more urigh and: in front of him, It made hitt seem somchow above the plane of all the STETTE proletacian really sald, Andy had to agree; ususally he ilked if that thi crovd was good humoured abour losing hut Dave w'as There would never be a revolution if people sang songs like Tin forever blowing bubbles, pretty The singing ended with a welling crescendo. A man in front of then, with Bryercemed black hair and long sideburns, turned his head and looke briely af them, He turned back and murmured into his companion's eat Andy felt Dave's anger rising He kept thie conversation in an attempt to pacito hitte the sort of song you' d expert Philip Larkin to like, 1 suppose.
The cierpal virgin, Dave replied scotnfully, ignoring the 'excuse me of somebody trying lo get past lim. A cheer went up as the West Ham team ran our and they fell into silenee Philip Larkin, his self-satisfied sadness, his defentism, of steriliry and impolence. Altimes in his life he had slipped into that mentaliy and ir frighened him horribly to realise it To have only 70 years to live and to spend so many of them in a pointiess petit-bourgeois routine with no sex ambitien, wanking himself into his dolage: it was obscene, There nothing to stop him faber with his seb-post office and his narrow-minded racism, dropping am all over the table and whining about the permissive society. But he had set Andy felt eugy. There was a tension between them and that made him withdraw. be had such difficulty heing relaxed with Dave that he woudered why be kept on seing him. All th aussers seemed to bein the past. He remembered Dave on the Irain out of Charing Cross the first day of teaching practioe, looking composed with his briefcase and bis Nowerytie. Thetrain had gone so fast and his stomach was twisting and turringinside bim. He had spent days Joeking for lessons and had pothing remotely suitable. Larkin's "Arundel Tomb' for the third form. "It's a dillicult poem," Dave had said with his Teves enlarging with antazement, his couth showing the hint of a Inugh. And he had sat there, petrified: pest Hicher Green and his mind a blank, Dave had known more than bin in these days, and he had held on to him like to an older brothe And, coming out of the totorial on the rather stift goodbye in the street and he had lell for the tube. feeling last and aloue- And harrying after him, embarrassed. saring: Say, Alan, you leel like poing to a fülm tonight? he saciled now at the way Dave had called hir so many different names a fist Alan and Anthony and even by Steph Henry.
very first day, they had said a Tube.
Dave had come booking vers And they a hek buck l'el awkward, each scared the other migh think him homosexual. but thcy ha gone, pleased to lave cach other company. They had soen an America film about a truck driver -goin berserk in a hippy talked about it all the way back to th Seven sears, Ir was a long time t know somebody The referee blew ins witstle for th kick-aff and the players started lo rur into positions. It was a moment Andy always liked. You could feel the kee anticipation of the crowd, comine
alive after the long wait. Everyrhing was fresh and new and full of possibilities. The colours were clean and tr heath reare and weet and white Middlesbrough, the green of the goalies jerseys. the fleshy pink of the players" legs. They were running into open spaces all over the pitch, full of energy and purpose, I made you forget how squashed up you were in the crowd, everybody in their drab overcoats and anoraks, smoking and!
Dareapplied himself tostudying the game. You only had todook closely al the first two or three movements our of ench defence 1o work teams nans, He had seen this sear before and now perfection. You looked for the skitful players and then watched how thie other leam was marking them. soon knew what the patter of this pame would be.
The crowd gasped with excitement as a Wesı Ham player hir the ball into the side netting. sported the full-back covering the chips.
our the at his programme. irving to memoris the Middlesbrough forward line he could do it to the hours he had spent reading about He it in the papers and watching it on relevision, points each team needed to avoid pich ahout Dave had already yaakhad all those bours contributed to his life? Noshere but a head fell of women, building earning money. One day soon he had HOTHE emotional standard.
Dave. pose fol, either.
behaved with - him replying.
Crikey, There's Why maybe thirty fixed unnerved by the stare her name and her neck. He so absrract.
ejaculating drawing of a cat crowd's reaction. Andy was looking Dave loathed football really It was such a waste of time. He thought of his penis.
working our how many relegation and holding forth in the the England side. And junk. He could have heen out fucking There the revolution, would cut foorhall right out of his He had done it with chess. Third he National and Under-Eighteen Championship, and he had never played seriously since He would have made the England Team by now, but what did he care? He saw them about occasionally cripples, them, walking round with knights and bishops dancing round their beads, still living at home with their motbers He had left all that behind. He gave Andy a game occasionally, that was enough for him. He had improved a was following the game anxicusly. He wanted West Ham to win, bur, because he was with Dave. he sried to look at it more objectively He had learnt how to do chis from I made him feel quite heing detached, comchou cuperiar to the spectators shouting at the referee and only seeing their own team's virtues.
*Jesus, it's cold. Dave suddent exclaimed and scarted to stamp his feet up and down. Andy sensed that the war behind was having his view obstructed by this movement but he did not dare look round. At least there was not going to he a repeat of the time at Chelsea when Dave had refused to take his umbrella down. The game lapsed into a ragged predictatility with little prospect of a goal and precious little good foothall Andy's thoughts turned increasingly to Dave. He wanted to understand their friendship: why did he so aften feel a victim of woman lie offer talked about that. He and Andy were Andy had very licle idea how he Only little incidents, Like the girl brushing pas ham in the poh and saving sorr and That's alright, t was rather nice? And the evening in the Old Vic when he had said so loudiy. had amashingly attractive wontenhere. What wouldit be like so be persued by Dave? Andy winced at the thought.
She stand in the corner of the room looking nervously at the other guests, -The couple in the middie jivine, the group to the right laughing and calling cact other names in mock abuse, the man by the pramophone choosing records. And then, over the other side of the coom, manding half outside a serous conversation, an upright nan - with close-cropped. far hair and a rather old-fashioned jacket. Looking across at her with a still and impenetrable, yer defimitely looking at her, She poured herself a drink.
And then he was by her side, asking seciting so strong. pishing out bis chest a little and fixing his eves on her breasts. What job did she do? And what did she earn? And what did she think about ambition? She tried to be vivacious but she felr ackward about the crucifix around told bet he was a journalist and talked about puritanism. Or was lie talking about the tap af thems? It was hard to tell. His voice was so cupped and distant, his words And then they were lying on her bed he gripping bald of her buttacks will a raw excitement, she with her jersey up round her neck and her skirt on the floor, he coming up inle her hard and quickly she crying our and then laking it. Yes, taking itbecause she was frightened, because she hat not had sex for a while and was tense. and because she did not know but she might want to keep him. He bad spilt a cup of coffee over her Andy returned his attention to the come there was something brutal and insensitive ahour Dave that he did no like to think aboul. He would notlike any woman he knew to ger involved with lam, He put his hand in hi broad. trouser pocket and adjusted the lie of The hall-time whistle blew and The players ran off the hield. chips socks round their ankles and Thud on their very hille applause.
Sometimes a game was dell: it was a 1 chanceyou had to take. The nian next 10. Dave tuned into the half-time scores on a small transistor. Andy could bear the mccallic voice rising Talling a theatrica excilement but COLIC distineuish the words, The nien in front of them sat down on the stone steps and opened a flack of soup Dare offered Andy one end of his Mars bar Out on the pitch 12 or 15 officials were walking around near one of the goal, staring downat their feel. They were all wearing beavy mass or overcoats and most of them had thei hands in their pockels. Andy started to laugh. They were circling round and round, slowly spreading our across hall the pitch.
are enchanted oing? they he exclaimed. the Looking for a contact lens, i should Imagine. Dave replied, tossing his Mars bar wrappor towards the men sitting down. There was something naive about the way Andy was always asking quescions: he chought of him sometimes as a village boy lost in a big Cily. Nearly thirty and he was will driftiag from job to job. never caring decent money. He had been like Andy once: living in dingy rooms, going to late night films at Hampstead cinemas, sitting around all day talking ahout feelings. It had never got him anywhere. Indigestible vegetar ian meals and not one decent fuck.
revolutionaries: what had it got to do with the working And it had worried his mother sick. too, especia ly gerting scabies, which meant having to bath twice a day and wath his sheets all the time. She'd had enough to contend WICE father, Anyway why should he nor gel married? Nobody was offenn anything betler. If the revolution came. well, i would be differeor bat he was not going to waste his life He liked to see Andy, though. They Andy understood him a bit — nor like the others. They werelike brothers, really second half was as inconsequential as the first Middleshrough scored but, as Dave said, it was a soft goal. Towards the end, people started to drifi away, gloomy relegation. There was a fight bebind one of the goals and Andy watched thas for awhile. The players had become tired and their movements repetitive At the final whistle. Before the players had left the field, everybody in Enclosure tunned and hurried for the exit It was a narrow onening under a dark oiling at the top of some steps. People were pushing towards it faster than they could ge through. Youcould lake your feet off the growed and be carried along by the bodhes around you. VOU lightly packed. Dave felt a bettor on his coa, being torn off and rumed to Andy in anguish All this for a fucking game of football," he-said.
DulD me street people were hurrying pass each other, zig-zagpine across the toad berween the tran half-running to get to the tube station BLIC KITE LETTE walked deliberately sinwly, lakie up as much of the pavement as he could. Andy meger alone beside him, conscions of the fruscration building up behind. They were an odd couple Ands had long black hair and was wearine a blue donkey jacket. He hunched his shoulders a lot and had a permanent cringe shout hun. Dave had very short, fair hair and was wearing a long maroon overcoat. He held himself very croc and rarely hoth looked about thirty although DEYE WIN SECRES DICE AMAN WAN still very thin. his chooks hollowed anu mis arms wrout muscles, Dave becomIng thicker, his face lamening out and his shoulders quite They had once been much more sEke in build.
At the rube station they queued for 20 minates, tallone abut Namibia. And then they caught their separate each looking forward away Crowds still scuffing themselves with and chattering about Foorball resuirs So you anon then, corrade."
Cheerio. Dave.
I was dark when they each got home and their rooms were cold and empry.
SOCIALIST CHALLENGE 20 April 1978 page?
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