Nothing more lethal in society than a group of females...

Another preamble over.. time to press ever onwards.. With the departure of Glenna, now so very long ago, turned my full attention to Susan, the child and the business. Numerous alarms and excursions. Susan "dissatisfied" with the flat bought in Leytonstone.. she now wished to move back to Bishops Stortford of course.. near " her mother". After much running too and fro, after making a considerable profit on the property, enough to buy a somewhat tumble down cottage, long garden in the back, long garden in the front, ideal for the child, which by now she had been given full control.

On the face of it ..the "appearance " of it, things were going quiet well, Peter, of course, dutifully set to work to straighten the place out, did that which was required of him, drove up and down the M.11, went to work. During this period my eldest son and his wife made contact.. his wife and Susan were a "win double" a perfect match, even down to their ages, even down to the clothes, the taste in them …They fell immediately together ..a mutual hatred of Peter, but not immediately apparent to myself. My business doing very well making money …the criteria, engrossed. No problems other than those expected.

Gradually became apparent Susan's coffee mornings with her friends were taking some precedent over myself and the slight help she did perhaps give me, by now Jack started Kindergarten, Susan playing mother with a capital "M". Coffee in turns at each mothers' house, a cosy, lethal arrangement, the feature in their lives, when they discussed everything and everyone when they tore everything and everyone apart, evidently including myself.



I, oblivious of this initially, quite obsessed with the necessities, getting them…trying to be all the things I really was not, yet, I , for whatever reason, tried hard to fit.. to be normal…put out of my mind the obvious, obvious would never fit anywhere, however much having taken it upon myself to try.
Ignored the building processes I had been through previous, starting with Virginia and Desaumarez street.. forty years before. Before, in a far off, strange land, called Australia, this had been a disaster, what made me struggle in the belief England, Hertfordshire in particular, would be any different? ……..I hardly knew.
Quite happy in my misguided thought, Susan "adjusting" herself with her friends, where she belonged, where she belonged finaly. Not seeing the inherent danger, threat to my self.
Most men, the man next to me, all too engrossed putting things together financially.. too engrossed to see what does go on behind their backs while they are going to work , working , returning. While they are thinking, while they are wearing themselves out…….. no time, too see.

Nothing more lethal in society than a group of females, especially females who have conceived the progeny, have taken it to school, females who are young, females who have a certain look on their faces, a dissatisfaction irrespective of whatever they do have.. dissatisfaction with their lives, their husbands, this dissatisfaction pours out , released if you like, the pent up emotions, the real or imaginary frustrations. Mostly these ladies have everything, mostly they want more… something else…

Peter being Peter, pressed ever onwards, growing the roses up the front of the house. Within three years they had reached the roof, a feature ..people slowed their cars down to look. I, quite absorbed in the garden, in the child ..any thoughts regarding asking myself what exactly I was doing, where exactly I was going…….
My Turkish man quite affable, helpful, my account for the fleet maintenance covered his total overheads he smiled ebulliently at this thought ..at myself…. everyone ….. quite happy
In all this intense movement , "turmoil", if you like, rather a good word for most men's efforts, if only they were but aware of it, Susan and the other ladies going their own sweet way.

Considered she had a good life in so far as could be ascertained, understood, so far as any man understands any woman.

She would come up to London for the weekends, see her friends, her mother having the child, wander about Camden market.. all the things all the people do.

Time slipped by, Jack now four years old, I had built up quite a large fleet of taxi cabs.
Run here, run there on the motor bike, chase here, chase there more appropriate, always something too do. The M.11 on a Yamaha 650 does not take long to devour. Became deeper and deeper enmeshed in life, in living, yet some time taken out to realise Susan had drawn away from me in many respects, not enough time to ask why, what was going on.


She became cold, cold as the upstairs bedrooms, they, at times, at freezing point, I wanted to put heating up there but she "preferred it as it was.." not wishing me to get too hot in any direction, conceivably…so I froze.

On occasions, the depths of winter, unable to stand it any longer, would get up after midnight, get in the cab, start it up with enough reverberations to wake the now dead, drive through the deserted, ice/mist covered roads, back to civilization, to Clapton Common, to the flat which was never cold, take hot bath and go to bed, end of another day…….

As other men, ignored the situation, preferring it to asking why? to risk breaking down everything I had built up over the years. As other men, acquiescent, not ask too many questions, remain silent on the subject ..the women fully aware, knowing they hold all the trump cards.
Compressed and starting to show it.

Susan, as the other ladies, remained sanguine, had their coffee mornings after their men had departed into the chaos, into the miasmal distance, after the perfunctory kiss on the cheek, after the waving hands of the children.

Ten a.m. in Hertfordshire, the children taken safely to school, the only sounds are the whisperings, occasional soft laughter, the clatter of crockery, the ladies now sitting, ensconced, cigarettes poised……
..ready.

Glenna's Demise

Susan’s mother, who invariably opened the street door dressed as if expecting the Queen for afternoon tea, became almost “friendly” towards Peter for want of a better word…. She saw the transformation in her daughter, saw the boy becoming bigger and bouncier. Talk of letting Susan have the child back providing it was taken to the mother’s house. the mother very keen on this arrangement, she having the most attractive bungalow, slap in the middle of town.. worth a cock eyed fortune. The past, apparently forgotten, the Sun shone… only the dark shadow of Glenna who by now getting very up tight, she seeing which way the tide was running, it culminated in rather a surprise for Peter.

I had this, or I have? perhaps I still have, not quite sure ? yes, have this affinity for young women, as so many other men, if they but dare admitt it. Glenna completely aware of this. To compliment my penchant, she had the ability to chat these creatures, charm them out of the trees.. not quite mesmerize them…follow her like the pied piper, maybe.

Glenna lived at the YMCA Tottenham Court Road, wonderful gymnasium. Would sit, drink my coffee and watch her contortions, tricks, jumping up and down, running round and round, she incredibly athletic, not a ounce of fat on her.

She would sit with me after these exertions. follow my eyes, see where they were resting, whom they were resting upon, which particular female. Having assessed the position, she would quite casually walk over to whomever, sit down and start chatting, quite comfortably.. simple as that. Occasionally, the chosen girl would nod, go off, get dressed and we three would saunter out to the cab, drive up Tottenham Court Road, Camden Town, Holloway, Finsbury Park, Manor House, down into Darkest Hackney. Up the thirty nine steps and so all into bed. Not always so lucky.. nevertheless, something which brought a smile to my face.

Always deeply interested me to watch Glenna chat and then perform……….

She became more and more morose, believing I was about to ditch her for my new status in Bishops Stortford…..things were by now going so well up there, Susan naturally putting the pressure on Peter to pack London in, which included Glenna.. get a job down there.. Hardly saw myself working for peanuts in the country. Suited me, few nights in London, some nights in the country. Up and down the M.11. what was wrong with that…?

Glenna would come around while I was in town, cook hot peppery food and demand far more than I was able to give her in the huge bed with the plants twirling about it.



Must have been one evening, late August, fiddling about in the flat phone rang…Glenna.. she sounded unusually happy..

“Oh Hi Glen .. '' She , quite calm and collected, her soft, attractive, sultry voice, deceptively flat..

"You know the tall, half cast girl you fancied the other afternoon at the gym…” Her voice tailing off.

knew straight away who she was talking about, a right sort.. about nineteen. Peter took the bait immediately. Immediately wide awake.. “Yes” I said .. gently as I was able "she is coming to my room to see me this evening….for a drink.. are you interested ??" Tried not to fall over myself said I would…… Forgot about driving a cab…

All bathed , cleaned myself up, tried to not look too much like a saddle tramp.. Plenty of time ....time for Johns café, the gang , eggs and chips.. Thought I would sit there as I had done throughout my life… it did seem, have a chat about the interminable nothing, then amble round the corner to Great Russel street. How can that be bad for a evening's entertainment….

Pulled up outside John's, about 30 other cabs there, all straddled down the street. Pubs wide open, everyone spilling on to the pavements with the beer. A very warm evening. Lambs Conduit in its heyday.. really buzzing.

Eggs and chips, had my tea, had another tea, all the gossip, the small adventures.. hot from the crowded streets.. the loud, excited noise from the café flooding out into the street as it had always done.

I looked too near the mark.. enough to arouse some comment, the slightest thing.. the most personal details, openly discussed, thrown about the room, nothing ever missed. They said, quite loudly, more or less in unison, group mind.. group discussion “Well who have you got tonight !! No subtlety about their questioning or questions .. ‘’Not quite sure “ I parried.. “On a promise, Glenna has found something for me “ They, not quite satisfied with this, nevertheless knew it was all they would get.. Albert the knocker persisted.. ”Bet you are away with Glenna for a blow job “. Everyone had had erotic thoughts about Glenna’s lips.. where she may put them and to what degree. Her other, deeper aspect, something which had eluded them, I, hardly going to open my mouth for them to find out….

They, very basic, strangely, in some ways prudish.. Slap bang tickle.. was “Orlright” but to step beyond the prescribed bounds, raised questions on their foreheads.

When they had all gathered at the flat for my “Parties” the photographs always caused them problems ..mostly they looked , yet remained silent.. a remarkable feat for any cab driver. No I hardly felt inclined to fill them in on the other side of Glenna, or myself come to that.




Drove round to Great Russel Street. Glenna very pleased to see me.. perhaps more so than usual …. slightly nervous, perhaps…effusive… Suddenly she locked the door.. Immediately felt as if I were locked in a tiger’s cage, such was the tense atmosphere.

Had been locked in other females flats before.. this particular occasion, realized rather too late I had swallowed the bait, Glenna having Peter precisely where she wanted him, for whatever reason was bugging her..

In a moment of indecision went to the window, thought I would get out of that.. looked down, about seventeen floors beneath me.. so no way was I getting out of any windows, that was for sure.. Thought, well now I have to face whatever it is.

Then she went for me.. flying fists. Here we go again … she a very strong woman. Pleased it was her fists, not a knife. Led with my left and gave her a short right which put her down but not quite out, out, out long enough for me to escape into one of the six lifts. Went up, then halfway down , up again, thought, this is good, up, down.. straight into the arms of Glenna. So now had it on my heels away.. decided not to make for the cab, if she finds that she will simply sit in it, perhaps forever..

Could run quite well in those days. Glenna ran after me, the security man ran after the both of us thinking she was chasing a intruder.. a good evenings entertainment you may think. Soon out of breath. Glenna caught Peter, the security man caught us both. when he realized we more than knew each other, he ambled off muttering.

What do I do now! she firmly had hold of me up against a wall in a back alley, could hear civilization honking and grinding it’s way into oblivion. She, really cracked up, anyone could see she was gone, then out of the blue between gasps she said “I have not had my injection!!” Thought out loud “What injection!!”

“ Oh , every three months I have to have one to keep me calm… up at the Whittigton hospital”

Lovely !! had it away again. Jumped on a bus, she jumped on behind me, jumped off, ran down the tube escalator .. Then we played that game ..on the bus, off the bus. Down the tube, up the tube. All very charming. After about a hour of this, we both surfaced on Kings Cross.

I walked, rather stumbled, into the Wimpy Bar, she tailing close behind.. Sat down, I shaking quite visibly.. my evenings entertainment…

Midnight, the clock straddled over Kings cross starting to strike.. could hear it very clearly through a lull in the traffic. The St Pancras clock, deciding it was midnight ten minutes later ..then, so long as I could remember, it always lagged behind.

Glenna and I both sat appraising the situation in silence , not a word spoken for one of those rather long, uncomfortable moments in time. Quite suddenly, quite calmly, she stood up, gathered herself together, gave me a final look, turned her back and walked out.

Never saw her again

Trip to Yugoslavia

A strange trio, odd situation perhaps,.. Glenna, Susan and myself, with Jack being fostered by a professional minder.. just up the road from Susan’s mother’s house in Bishops Stortford, we allowed to see him perhaps a couple of times a week, he apparently not at all put out, enjoying the company of the other children, the powers that be, hardly thinking Susan capable of looking after him,.. as said previously, as the father.. not even considered…then that is England, a matriarch society, a few men left who do not cling to the female skirt.

There are those gone fully the other way, openly, right to the top of government and society, perhaps now a prerequisite for any serious consideration in the twenty first century, only a faint smile remaining at any mention of Lord Byron.

In Romania they bang them up…in prison, discipline and values have not gone rotten here, may be a poor country, but they cling to what little they do posses.


For whatever reason, decided to move myself, went out and bought another old cab.. so I had two. Cornered Rodetski in the café, put it to him, he would like a ‘cheaper” cab, cheaper than he was paying, when he did pay, that is... thought could overcome his reluctance in this aspect . So, it was two cabs, Rodetski and myself…Two became three, three became five ,five became twenty two.

They were good days in the trade, early eighties. I finished up with drivers no one else wanted because of their reluctance in the cash department. For whatever reason they did pay me more or less, I, running something like a club for destitute taxi drivers so far as they were all concerned. Certainly Romeford Dave regularly painted the alternator silver and said he had bought a new one, trying to charge me the $50. Certainly he, Alan and Billy Kelly would put all the money due to me in the Granby fruit machine over a period of two days and one night, they taking shifts to pull the lever.. or one would go out working to get more money to feed the insatiable machine. In a more desperate moment Alan bandaged his arm up ..not the one he pulled the fruit machine lever with, saying he had been unable to work. Wednesday night most of the fleet parked up in a long tidy line outside Walthamstow dog track, invariably the gang would all file despondently out, having done their bollocks . It meant running about on the motor bike catching up with them at their favorite hide outs.. or going into the betting shop before they did my money. Sounds like hard work.. a very friendly atmosphere ….It paid.

Stopped doing my own repairs. found a Mr. Salih, a Turkish man and his three son’s in law…In a archway in Bethnal Green, must be several hundred railway arches doing cab repairs
In that first flush, in the first year, with a few cabs, things going so well, decided top take Susan for a holiday.. by plane , disregarding her petrified looks.. it took very little to frighten Susan , she had never flown previously …charter flight to Yugoslavia on the cheap . I had not had a holiday for years, mainly because I did not work sufficiently, hardly concerned me one way or the other, there was, however, this wind of change, my last trips abroad had been those to see Mark In LA, a long time ago.
Became quite determined to do something, go somewhere. Glenna rather upset at my not intending to take her along. Hardly saw myself handling the situation of a rather large black lady and a rather diminutive white one all dancing about together in Yugoslavia. So it became a matter of suitably bribing Glenna, everyone has a price…a consolation prize, if you like,
Remembered my Father coming down to Stony Stratford during the war, where my mother, Doris and myself were all shoved out of the way.. He brought a couple of pairs of kippers.. my mother, who was not enamoured with country life, screamed very loudly at him, she, "not wanting his consolation prize for being stuck in a dead and alive hole!!" first of all hitting him with the kippers, then a chair and finaly the kitchen table, saw him in hasty retreat into his lorry “down the roads again” burning up the diesel to Coventry.

Hardly wished Glenna to see my offering in that light, stepped carefully. Must have come up with something suitable, cannot recall what that something was .
Yugoslavia appeared rather tense, everyone at the airport carrying a weapon of some kind. The weather, quite glorious, hot. Susan apparently fully recovered from the silent months. She, looking good, dancing the nights away, the local gigolo’s queuing up for her.
Her birthday ….think she was 38.. The dining room held a couple of hundred people reminiscent of Butlin’s. It was alright, ordered up a birthday cake. In the evening they wheeled down this really quite huge cake, all the faces smiling and clapping.. happy birthday and all that jazz, Susan quite taken back, so was I , come to that. A very happy period, I became all romantic.. Can anyone imagine .. Peter ..Romantic..! must have had a touch of the Sun. The Churches made a big impression , far from the coldness of the C of E mob. We went in one of them ..suggested, off the top of my head that we became married there, do not know how we actually did not get married in that church, what finaly stopped us, we so carried away especially as I have never been one for churches since my escapade in Canterbury Cathedral when I was ten ..still that’s another story..

Rather a twist of fate I should get married just up the road.. ten years later…… to someone else, in a place called Romania. No, Susan and I never did quite make it…… which was perhaps fortunate.


################################

Susan and Glenna

Raluka rang last night.. terrible state.. being the recipient of one of my famous letters, she being the bird who stole a flat from me here in Bucuresti.. concluding I would say “Oh well “ as perhaps some men would.. wipe my mouth and walk away, she is mistaken. Hardly feel there are so many people on this Planet who can afford to take a blow such as that.

After having a confrontation with this wall for the last ten minutes, a very difficult confrontation, apparently it is time to get on with the story, go back to John’s café, to Lambs Conduit street, Mickey Kelly, Bernie, Isle of Wight Bill, Jimmy Skinner, our famous man of Thailand… all the faces, quite a few of whom are now dead. Berni still kicking round the Far East, somewhere in the Jungle in Thailand, he almost eighty. Johnny Miles still out there . Those two men after being together for forty years working together were split up by two Thai birds. John and Bernie now live at opposite ends of the country ..never the twain to meet.. simply jealousy of the women, John having money, Bernie having nothing by comparison. Way the world and women go round.. women.!


Back to Lambs Conduit street, the night with Glenna, a situation to wynd its own inevitable course, okay, maybe a variation..

Became quite intense over Glenna, she moved more or less into Clapton Common with me, at the back of mind, always Susan and the kid incarcerated in Shenley hospital, so my life at the correct level of chaos for men of that age.. Men in the 40-50 bracket, apparently get themselves in deeper than other groups, only when they get to the late fifties do men start to realize how deeply involved they are, how horrendously difficult it is to extricate themselves, in fact impossible to get out of the hole they have blindly burrowed into, the “golden handcuffs” the realization, too late. Yes, I deeply in it, the palaver of visiting Shenley, driving about the London streets.. going up and down the A.1. attempting to keep two females in equilibrium.

Xmas day 1985 in the middle of Susan’s silence, I alone as usual, as always as ever, she and the child incarcerated in Shenley hospital, the hospital kept open only for Susan and Jack, the only two with no where to go, no one wanted. Susan’s mother refused, point blank, to have her and the child, Susan’s toffee nosed brother most certainly would not entertain her in his smart four bedroomed house. What! Silent Susan! what would he and his Irish wife do? how could they be expected to take in such a person…? Xmas! … More important.. “What would their friends think !”

As for myself, not even considered, as always, a none starter. They would not let me attempt to feed, wash, mother and child.. No, the hospital stayed… open. I ? only the child’s father (counts nothing in England) a fact Susan kept from him until November ’92..when he was seven years old.

Maybe having suited her to keep quiet for so long, to insist, she should have kept her mouth shut about this fact just a little longer as I had to fallen into one of my nervous breakdowns and she to kick me in the bollocks and out. Nothing unusual, many men know what I am talking about .. all still counting the cost.

Late spring, deep snow, suddenly Susan managed to extricate herself and the child from Shenley, went to Harlow Hospital, nearer to her mother at Bishops Stortford, not know how she pulled that, maybe having some intuition about Glenna, about another female face filling the void, if you like, of my existence. Arrived there one morning, she, Susan, looking better, a transition from a grey haired wrinkled ghost, a ghost which had not spoken, silent for six months, now a woman somewhat resurrected.

A brilliant sunny morning, snow reflecting through the window intensifying the light. Susan, full of it, full of herself, full of life, full of plans, full of aspirations, full of all the things we, i.e. she and I were going to embark on…. had not mentioned Glenna sitting downstairs in the car. Sussed by Susan, vaguely aware I had pulled a stroke.. beaten me to it, females have this propensity.. played her cards with the usual feminine dexterity, close to her chest.

Stuck with two of them, one upstairs in the hospital ward, the other downstairs, patiently waiting in the car, a situation which had happened to me a very long time previously in Australia. Always on my mind to put down the events of that particular day, Susan, Glenna and I.

Remember quite distinctly, quietly laughing to myself, how it tangled itself up, a bun fight in the snow. Hardly feel like laughing about anything or anyone anymore.. maybe with age has come a deeper perception ..maybe.. Hardly feel like discussing the event, exposing people to the bone, never really gone deeply into the tight, bare knuckle, bare flesh, scenario. Never been guilty of that.

Surprisingly, after the initial furor settled, Glenna and Susan became almost amicable.. for want of a better word.. amicable! one will have to think of words associated…..

Susan continued with her improvement . Discharged herself and with the child went back to her mother’s. Rather to my surprise, much to my surprise, Susan appeared at the flat, Glenna and I having breakfast or lunch.. know we were eating, sitting down in the kitchen.

She came smartly up the thirty nine steps, heard her leather shoes echoing on the hard oak, sat down as though, as if, that six, eight, interminable, silent months, had never taken place.. greeted Glenna like a long lost sister.

Perhaps it was a couple of weeks later, time is not really specific we three all in bed, the street door bell rang, a rare occurrence, looked at the clock , mid day, Susan volunteered to get up and go peer out on the big room window, heard her shouting against the noise of the traffic to whoever was below. She went down the stairs. Heard two sets of footsteps coming up, wondered who she had let in, no one ever comes to my flat unless they want something , a slight knock, on the bedroom door Susan appeared, perhaps hesitantly, beckoned to whomever it may be..

To say I was surprised at this intruding face would be a understatement, momentarily not recognizing the man standing half in, half out of the green bedroom door, Had only seen him once before, introduced to him in the pub. “The Lamb” in Lambs Conduit street, a considerable time ago, a very happy, smiling Susan at the time. She had made me struggle through the throng, disregarding how I dislike pubs, having spent a great deal of time standing out side every one in Hackney during my childhood, interminable waiting for my Mother and Father to come out. Remember quite clearly the look of satisfaction on her face as she introduced this small neat man with the goatee beard to me. “Jeffrey this is Peter…” Her Ex husband, he, no doubt wondering what she had “got hold of” this time.

Jeffrey stood in the doorway staring at the scene. Big black Glenna and I tucked up in bed, one of the few occasion in my life when I had been caught literally with my trousers down, completely off guard the way Susan had lured him up into the room. Quite obviously it was a “three in the bed and the little one said” scenario. Maybe she wanted to punish him, also one of the few moments in my life when I had been lost for words, even feeling slightly put out for his sake, me feeling something for someone other than myself..!?
A very brief visit, he quickly ran out in some disarray, out down the stairs, heard the deep down street door go bang behind him.