It’s not that we’re not proud of him you understand…
Not proud?
No, we are!
Oh, right you are then…
…our Bert’s alright, our son and heir, a go getter from the very start and we knew that his future would be bright…from the way he was you see…knew what he wanted, crafty, sometimes and clowned around to get his way , full of fun, a lovely boy , our Bertie…
…it’s not that we don’t have plans for him you know…
No plans?
No! We do, have plans for him…
Oh, right you are…
He can do anything he wants…doctor, lawyer, sail a boat around the world… no strings, no expectations understand…just not a tramp or cashier at a till or a lollipop man in a yellow coat…we want to be proud of him you understand…
Proud?
Yes proud!
We’ve only got the one and we want for him to be proud and also for us…we just want the best for him and no strings I always say… and he can marry who he wants…just not a black girl or Chinese….the same as us like, man of the people like, working class like us…that would be best..
Would that be best?
Yes, that would be best…
…just look at us and what we are and I have worked hard all me life, started at the bottom on the floor, make no mistake… sweeping it to start and I can tell thee there’s a lot more to sweeping floors than meets the eye! I can sweep a mean floor and I can do it right,…manager I am! Clean white shirt on every morning, starched and ironed but never too much and sometimes two shirts when it’s hot…my Rosie does the job alright, looks after me you see and that is just what our Bert needs when he’s grown…a good woman behind him, as I see it, same as him and with him at the helm like, like me and my Rose…Rose always there, right behind, doing for me what I can’t…that’s how a good marriage works…
It does?
It does!
And Bertie grew and worked and learnt to sweep his Daddy’s floor….and then he went to Uni, he got his degree and wore a hat like all the others with a tassel and a gown and he carried a rolled up scroll with a red ribbon and we were so proud of our boy and he got a good job, junior, aye, but job to be proud of all the same… and then he met Ada , got married and bought them a house with a mortgage…terrace mind, but it was a house! …
And then the baby came and then they bought another house and a new car as well. The money was good money and bonuses good, a new washing machine and a dryer, condenser dryer, the best, Bosch it was, a dishwasher and a new telly in the lounge and kitchen and another one upstairs , flat screen, all of them… responsibility at work now and then another kid came and then the first one wanted a pony, the wife a car of her own … school runs you know, you needed good wheels … Rose so agreed with it all, important to keep the peace, and I did as well and Bertie worked harder and harder and made us so proud…
We are very proud of him alright!
Proud?
Yes, we are!
He works all hours, our lad does. More than me ever and not at sweeping either…he’s up and at the office first thing…and on his way home last away and weekends he cooks the tea for them all and dusts and he hoovers to give her a break so she can go to the gym to relax with her friends…
He buys flowers and chocolates and games and i things and stuff…and he rushes about from morning till night and at the end of a day he pours him a tonic and a gin and another and often a third…he leads a smart life our Bert…busy and smart and a house now in the best part of town with a sculpture in the garden…yes, they like their art, they do…
Like their art?
Yes, like their art…
…pictures and pots from St Ives and the best china that money can buy, no object you see, no plastic for them and crystal from Dartington Glass…only the best for them two and good schools for the girls with uniforms, tartan skirts and straw hats and badges on their blazers, racing green and gold…
And then we don’t see him for a very long time… at the office she says…at meetings she says…at the doctors she says… not himself…overworked she says, depressed…burnout she says though she cannot think why, he’s got all that he wants…he’s got her and the girls, cars that he loves and a brand new Harley to ride, a paddock of our own with horses…they’re building the pool and a Sauna… and he sometimes just sits she says…and the pills do not help… he just sits and sits and he stares…his eyes are empty, the light’s gone out…what are they to do? His boss so not pleased, the bonus is cut…she would have to start work she says but what she says, what!…
And then he came home to us one night very late…not really drunk but not right, you could see ….
…and he cried!
Cried?
Yes, cried! Cried like a baby and could not stop and he crept into bed between Rosie and me…like he used to when he was still a little boy…he shook and he wept and he trembled until he fell asleep quite exhausted and Rose and I held hands across his shaking form…
They used to call it breakdown…
Breakdown?
Yes!
He’ll have to start again at the bottom…
Start again?
Yes, like learning how to sweep a floor…
Sweep a floor?
Yes, only a different floor…
…and…
…she will have to sweep it with him…you know? Both together! Not one behind the other like my Rose and me…
Not one behind the other?
No! Both side by side…
It’s not that we’re not proud of him you understand..
Not proud?
No! We are!
But things are done different now…a different world…not like in my day…
Not like…?
No…
Oh, right you are then, right you are…
iW 29.04.11
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