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- UNDERGROUND
- Ray Aggarstone took the Northern Line from Leicester Square. It was some time
- since he had gone anywhere by Underground. Either he had used his car or had taken
- taxis for shorter journeys. But now that he was almost ready for what he liked to call,
- to himself but not to anybody else, the Big Getaway, he had sold his car for just over
- four hundred quid. Just showed you how useful it could be to chat somebody up, in
- this case that stupid sod who was always in the Saloon bar of the King's Arms. While
- waiting on the crowded platform at Leicester Square, Ray told himself once again that
- he was careful as well as very clever. For instance, after that car deal and with a few
- drinks inside them, some fellows would have boasted about the Brazilian setup and
- the flight to Rio, but not Ray — not on your life! He had told this stupid sod exactly
- the same story he had told his mother and his wife, Cherry, now waiting for him
- somewhere near the end of this Northern Line. "Going to France, old man — Nice
- actually — where I've bought into a very promising property deal. Smart work, if I
- may say so."
- But of course he hadn't shown him the letters he'd concocted to show his Mum and
- Cherry, now ready to part with eight thousand between them, about all they had. They
- were both so excited about his plan for them to join him at Nice within the next two or
- three weeks, like a pair of idiotic kids, they left business entirely to him, Mum's clever
- handsome son, Cherry's dominating, fascinating if occasionally unfaithful husband.
- Serve them right when he vanished with the two cheques he was going to collect —
- the silly cows!
- No train yet but more people arriving on the platform. He changed his place,
- bumping and shoving a bit, if only to show these types what he thought about them. A
- run-down lot in a running-down country! He could never come back of course, not
- after those two women finally decided he'd robbed them blind, but he didn't want to
- anyhow. He'd had it here all right — finish! He couldn't blame Rita and Karl for
- sneering and jeering, even though now and again they got his goat, specially Karl. But
- that was early on, before they began to talk business.
- The train came along, already more than half full. And because he hadn't stood
- near the platform edge, though he pushed and shoved as hard as anybody, perhaps a
- bit harder than most, of course he didn't get a seat — not a hope! So there he was,
- standing and swaying, wedged in with a lot of'fat arses, smelly underclothes and bad
- breath. Looking around, disgusted, he couldn't imagine now what had made him come
- down here when he might have hired a car, travelled in comfort and also impressed
- Mum and Cherry. So, to stop cursing himself, he began thinking about Rita and Karl
- again. After all he'd be meeting them in Rio in two or three days, and he began to
- wonder how things would work over there. Every time Karl, who was her husband all
- right, had gone to Manchester or Leeds and had stayed the night, he'd had Rita, a hot
- brunette if there ever was one, who'd start moaning if a finger touched a tit. Did Karl
- know, just guess, not care — or what? Anyhow, what Karl, a real businessman in the
- German-Swedish style, did know was that his friend, smart Ray Aggarstone, would be
- shortly financing most of the deal they'd worked out. Moreover, there must be plenty
- of hot moaning brunettes in Brazil.
- Tottenham Court Road and people, dreary bloody people, pushing their way out
- and pushing their way in. And off again — sway, rattle, bang, bang, rattle, sway. A
- long thin woman, loaded with parcels, dug an elbow into his ribs, and he used his own
- elbow, with some force, to knock it away. She glared at him over her parcels, but all
- he did was to raise his eyebrows at her. After a moment or two she was able to move
- away a few inches. It was then that a curious thing happened. Through the gap she
- had left between them he saw for the first time a small figure sitting down. It had the
- face of an old-looking boy or a rather young-looking dwarf. He stared at this creature,
- who then met his stare with a widening of the eyes, odd eyes, yellowish. Next, the
- little oddity closed his eyes and moved his head slowly from side to side, almost as if
- he was giving a "No-no-no" signah As soon as the eyes opened again, Ray gave them
- a hard scowling look. But now there was no sign of recognition in them. It was just as
- if Ray was no longer there at all. The boy-or-dwarf might have been looking through
- him. A silly idea. Ray began to think how he would deal with Mum and Cherry.
- At Euston there was a lot more pushing out and shoving in, twerps on the move.
- The little monster had gone, and in his place was a fat suet-faced woman who stared
- angrily at anything or nothing, just to prove she had a right to a seat. Rattling and
- swaying on again, Ray told himself how he ought to deal with Mum and Cherry this
- time. Very different, he decided, from last time when he'd been all solemn, very much
- the business man, explaining again why Cherry had to stay with Mum, now that he'd
- got. rid of their flat, and why he was staying in an hotel to be near the two Frenchmen
- who'd agreed to let him buy into the big property development just outside Nice. This
- time, everything being settled now they were giving him their cheques, there'd be no
- point in going on with the solemn business thing. It would have to be all merry chitchat
- about Nice and the Riviera, how they'd be joining him down there quite soon,
- how he'd be arranging their flights, booking a posh double-bedded room with bath for
- Cherry and him, with a good single nearby for Mum, and at least one balcony the
- three could use for breakfast — all that bullshit. Yes, there he'd be, egging them on,
- the stupid cows, maybe taking them out to a pub if Mum hadn't got anything in to
- drink.
- Somebody touched his arm. This was deliberate. A woman was smiling at him. She was
- an oldish woman, white-haired but with a plump red-cheeked face and bright blue eyes;
- and he'd seen her before somewhere. "You're Ray Aggarstone, aren't you?"she said,
- smiling away.
- It seemed as if he hadn't time to think before he heard himself saying, "No, I'm
- not." He said it sharply too, as if really telling her to mind her own dam' business.
- It wiped the smile off her face and narrowed and darkened her eyes, almost turning
- her into another person. "I think you are Ray Aggarstone, y'know," she said; and
- though the train was making a lot of noise, somehow she managed to say it quietly.
- "And you must remember me. I'm an old friend of your mother's."
- She must have been too, he realized now. But he hadn't to be bothered with her,
- when he was busy with his own thoughts and plans. He shook his head at her. "Got
- this all wrong." And he had to shout because the train might have been-grinding its
- way through rocks, the noise it was making. "I don't know you. And you don't know
- me."
- "Yes, I do. Or I did do, once," she went on steadily. "She thought the world of you,
- Ray. Her only son — so good-looking, so clever!"
- He found a snarl coming out of him this time. "Do you mind! Just turn it up!" And
- he looked away, to get rid of her. But when he turned his head again, she was still
- there, though not quite so close, having managed to back away from him a little. And
- now she seemed a lot older and was giving him a long sad look. He couldn't return
- it— he suddenly felt he had nothing to return it with, not even a scowl— so he looked
- away again and was relieved to find the train was stopping at Camden Town. This
- time not many got in, but then not many got out, so he was still forced to stand, even
- though he'd a bit more space round him. And this suited him all right because if there
- was one thing he didn't like it was being jammed among all these idiotic, bloody
- disgusting people, staring old cows, smelly bitches and stupid buggers of all ages and
- sizes. When he got to Brazil and the money was rolling in, as Karl swore it would,
- he'd work it so that there was no more of this horrible caper. The only people allowed
- near him would be the ones he could enjoy seeing, hearing, smelling and touching.
- As the train started rattling and banging off again, he started thinking again.
- Working out how he'd deal with Cherry and his mother, chatting them up about life on
- the Riviera, breakfasts on balconies, drinks to welcome the wonderful new life, laughs
- and hugs and kisses and all that female crap, he realised he'd overdone it, not for them
- but for himself. For what he'd gone and done, if only for a minute or two, was to go
- soft and feel a bit sorry for both of them, considering that he was about to skin them
- down to their last fifty quid each. No time for that tonight! He'd got to be as sensible
- and hard as he'd been when he worked out the plan. Serve 'em right for not having
- more sense! He'd to look after himself, so they could look after themselves— and
- women always managed somehow. And he began to remember and light up every
- grievance he'd ever had against the pair of 'em. He'd deal with them the way he'd
- planned, pretending to be as silly as they were, and when they laughed then he'd laugh
- too, even, just for a private giggle, bringing out and fiourishing his wallet, which
- already had in it his Air France ticket to Rio.
- It was just past Chalk Farm when. the man tapped him on the shoulder. He was a
- tall man, so tall he had to bend over Ray, and he had very sharp grey eyes and a long
- chin.
- "Better get out at Hampstead," the man said, almost in Ray's ear.
- "Can't do," Ray told him briskly. "Going as far as Hendon Central. Unless of
- course I have to change. Is that it?"
- "You might say that's it." A solemn reply.
- This sounded idiotic to Ray. "I don't know what you're talking about." This tall
- fellow didn't look a chump, but then, like so many people now, he might be round the
- bend.
- Two women pushed past them, getting ready for Belsize Park. The man waited but
- then he tapped Ray on the shoulder again and bent closer to his ear. "Just a last word.
- Most people think this line's at its deepest at Hampstead. What they don't know —
- and I don't suppose you do — is that there's a second line, starting at Hampstead, that
- goes deeper still — on and on, deeper and deeper —"
- "Oh — come off it!" Ray was impatient now: This was obviously a crackpot.
- "I'm not on it." The man gave a short crackpot's laugh. "But you may be if you
- don't get out at Hampstead and then take a taxi or a bus — and go back."
- "That's enough," Ray told him. "I'll mind my own business and you mind yours."
- "No, it's not as simple as that," said the tall man quite mildly. "You're pait of my
- business now. That's why I'm telling you — not asking you, telling you — to forget
- Hendon Central and get out at Hampstead —"
- Ray lost his temper. "And I'm telling you — not asking you — to piss off."
- The train was slowing up. Belsize Park now. There were sufficient people getting
- out to push between Ray and the tall man, but then there was quite a gap between
- them now. Only a few got on, and Ray saw that he could have a seat at last if he
- wanted one. But somehow he didn't. Perhaps he felt he might go soft again if he sat
- down. Better to keep on standing and be hard and tough. The tall man, easily seen,
- had moved down and was now near the far door, ready to get out at Hampstead,
- where the big daft sod thought everybody ought to get out. All these mental hospitals
- and yet a crackpot pest like this was allowed to wander around loose, making a
- bloody nuisance of himself! Anyhow, as soon as the train pulled up at Hampstead, out
- the chap went, followed by nearly everybody else. This left the carriage almost empty.
- Ray could have taken as many seats as he wanted now, but he didn't make a move, not
- for the moment trusting himself to let go of the strap he was clinging to, for he had to
- admit that he felt a bit faint, probably because of all the clattering and swaying and
- what so many stinking people had done to the air had combined to make him feel faint.
- This was an unusually long wait. He closed his eyes, just for a few moments, and
- when he opened them again he was both surprised and alarmed to discover that he had
- the whole long carriage to himself. Nobody else at all in sight. Had they shouted,
- "Hampstead— all change!" and he'd missed it? Even dim as he felt, he was about to
- make for the door when, with an unpleasant jerk, the train started again. Then two
- things, equally unpleasant, happened together. There were several loud bangs and the
- lights went out. Badly shaken, there in the dark with the train obviously gathering
- speed, he made up his mind he would get out at the next stop, which would be
- Golders Green, and find a taxi to take him up to Mum's place. The lights came on
- again, and though they seemed bright enough at first, after the dark, he soon realized
- that in fact they were much lower than they'd been before. Ten to one some powercut
- frigging nonsense!
- Then quite suddenly — and it came like a hammer-blow at the heart — he knew
- that this train was going nowhere near Golders Green. At the same time he felt that it
- wasn't moving like all the others, which went more or less level or climbed a bit to
- rush out into the open air. No, it was going down and down. And what had that tall
- crackpot said! Something about a second line going deeper still — on and on, deeper
- and deeper — ? He tried to forget this but he couldn't, and he began to wish there was
- somebody else with him who could explain what was happening. The train went
- rattling on, faster now than the usual underground train. There was nothing to be seen
- of course, and with this poor lighting he could hardly catch a glimpse of his own
- reflection. He tried cursing and blinding, to stop himself feeling frightened; but it
- didn't work.
- However, bringing a flood of relief, something happened he never remembered
- seeing before on an underground train. Some sort of conductor chap, wearing a dark
- uniform, had come through a door at the far end of the carriage and was now walking
- towards him— that is, if you could call this slow shuffle a walk. Enjoying his relief,
- Ray took a seat at last and began rehearsing the indignant questions he would ask.
- "Now look here," he called out, "what the hell's the idea — ?" But there he stopped,
- terrified. He was staring at something out of'a nightmare. The man hadn't a face, just
- eyes like a couple of blackcurrants, and nothing else — no mouth, no nose, no ears. In
- his terror Ray huddled into his seat and shut his eyes tight, hoping feverishly that the
- lard-faced monster wouldn't stop, even to put a finger on him, but would go shuffling
- past him. And this indeed he did, so that when Ray risked opening his eyes he was
- alone again. That was something, and what happened next was better still. At last the
- train was slowing down. There must be a station soon — certainly not Golders Green
- — but whatever the station was, however far it might be from Hendon Central, it was
- where he would get out of this nightmare train.
- He caught glimpses of an enormous packed platform. As soon as the train stopped
- he reached the door, but even then it was too late. He was swept back by a solid mass
- of people, who pushed and shoved like maniacs and closed round him so that he
- couldn't move and felt he could hardly breathe. And what people! All the faces he'd
- ever looked away from, disgust blotting out compassion, seemed to be here, and the
- train was already moving again. He felt he was hemmed in by ulcers, abscesses, halfblind
- eyes, rotting noses, gangrenous mouths and chins. And how far, how long? Even
- out of the depths of his nausea, he'd have to say something.
- He put his question to the face nearest to him, a twisted slobbery caricature of a
- face, but all he got in reply was a senseless gabble.
- "No use asking him," a voice said over his shoulder. "He's forgotten how to talk.
- What you want to know?" The voice belonged to a bull of a man with a face like a
- volcanic eruption.
- "Where —" and it was a shaky question, "where are we going?"
- "Where we going?" the bull roared. "We're not going anywhere, you silly sod."
- Now he roared louder still. "Time to push around, shove about, all you bastards!"
- Ray found at his elbow an old creature whose nose and chin nearly met: she could
- have been a witch out of an ancient fairy tale. "I'll tell you where you're not going,
- young man," she said, cackling and spitting. "He-he-he! You're not going to Rio in
- Brazil. Not now and not ever. He-he-he!"
- His heart turning into ice-water, he understood at last that he might never know
- anything again except this underground journey to nowhere, wedged beyond any
- chance of escape among these malicious jeering monstrosities...
- ***
- ... "Full name's Raymond Geoffrey Aggarstone, but liked to call himself just Ray,"
- said the first man. "Got that? Okay. Now — effects. Silver cigarette case, inscribed
- Darling Ray from his loving Cherry ... Posh lighter... Diary, gold pencil, three fivers
- and four pound notes in small notecase in one inside pocket..."
- "Not too fast," said the second man. "And what about trousers pockets — keys and
- change and all that?"
- "Come to them in a minute,, chum," said the first man. "And if I'm going too fast,
- why ask for more? Wallet in right inside pocket. ... Contains credit cards, two letters,
- and something from Air France —"
- "Hold it! Yes, sir?" But this query was addressed to the new arrival. He was a tall
- man, with a long chin and sharp grey eyes, and he was obviously top brass authority,
- not the kind of bloke to be asked what he was doing there and where was his warrant
- card.
- "I'll take the two letters," this tall man said pleasantly but with assured authority.
- "Not needed for the next of kin. I must look at that Air France booking too. Thank
- you!" He examined it, took out a pen and made an alteration. "Yes, As I thought.
- There's a mistake here. Should have been Nice not Rio. Here you are, ready for the
- next of kin, but I'll keep the two letters, they'd only bewilder a couple of miserable
- women." He gave the two men a sombre look. "You know, this is a world where the
- guilty all too often go unpunished and the innocent are increasingly victimized,
- robbed, ruined, maimed or murdered."
- "That's true enough, sir," said the first man. "As I've said more than once to the
- wife and kids."
- "Well, now and again," the tall man told him, "we have the chance to change that.
- Just now and again. By the way, what are the facts here?"
- "Found unconscious in the Northern Line train at Hampstead, sir. Major heart
- attack. Never recovered consciousness. In fact, died in the ambulance, sir. Finish!"
- "Thank you! Possibly finish — possibly not. We don't know, do we? Goodnight!"
- And he left them so quickly, he might almost have vanished, a trick some of these top
- blokes seem to have mastered.
- J. B. Priestley
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