Unseen Academicals

conceded. ‘You are an odd one, Mister Nutt. Where are you from, really?’
    The old panic contained again. Be harmless. Be helpful. Make friends. Lie. But how did you lie to friends?
    ‘I must go,’ he said, scurrying down the stone steps. ‘Mister Trev will be waiting!’
    Nice but odd, Glenda thought, watching him leap down the steps. Clever, too. To spot my scarf on a hook ten yards away.

    The sound of a rattling tin can alerted Nutt to his boss’s presence before he had even hurried through the old archway to the vats. The other habitués had paused in their work, which, frankly, given its usual snaillike progress, meant hardly any change at all, and were watching him listlessly. But they were watching, at least. Even Concrete looked vaguely alert, but Nutt saw a little dribble of brown in the corner of his mouth. Someone had been giving him iron filings again.
    The can shot up as Trev caught it with his boot, flew over his head, and then came back obliquely, as if rolling down an invisible slope, and landed in his waiting hand. There was a murmur of appreciation from the watchers and Concrete banged his hand on the table, which generally meant approval.
    ‘What kept you, Gobbo? Chatting up Glenda, were you? You’ve got no chance there, take it from me. Been there, tried that, oh yes. No chance, mate.’ He threw a grubby bag towards Nutt. ‘Get these on quick, else you’ll stand out like a diamond in—’
    ‘A sweep’s earhole?’ Nutt suggested.
    ‘Yeah! You’re gettin’ it. Now don’t hang about or we’ll be late.’
    Nutt looked doubtfully at a long, a very long scarf in pink and green and a large yellow woolly hat with a pink bobble on it.
    ‘Pull it down hard so it covers your ears,’ Trev commanded. ‘Get a move on!’
    ‘Er…pink?’ said Nutt doubtfully, holding up the scarf.
    ‘What about it?’
    ‘Well, isn’t football a rough man’s game? Whereas pink, if you will excuse me, is rather a…female colour?’
    Trev grinned. ‘Yeah, that’s right. Think about it. You are the clever one around here. And you can walk and think at the same time, I know that. Makes you stand out from the crowd in these parts.’
    ‘Ah, I think I have it. The pink proclaims an almost belligerent masculinity, saying as it does: I am so masculine I can afford to tempt you to question it, giving me the opportunity to proclaim it anew by doing violence to you in response. I don’t know if you have ever read Ofleberger’s Die Wesentlichen Ungewissheiten Zugehörig der Offenkundigen Männlichkeit? ’
    Trev grabbed his shoulder and spun him round. ‘Wot do you fink, Gobbo?’ he said, his red face a couple of inches from Nutt’s. ‘Wot is your problem? Wot are you all about? You come out with ten-dollar words an’ you lay ’em down like a man doin’ a jigsaw! So how come you’re down in the vats, eh, workin’ for someone like me? It don’t make sense! Are you on the run from the Old Sam? No problem, there, unless you did up an old lady or somethin’, but you got to tell me!’
    Too dangerous, thought Nutt desperately. Change the subject! ‘She’s called Juliet!’ he gasped. ‘The girl you asked about! She lives next door to Glenda! Honestly!’
    Trev looked suspicious. ‘Glenda told you that?’
    ‘Yes!’
    ‘She was windin’ you up. She knew you’d tell me.’
    ‘I don’t think she would lie to me, Mister Trev. She is my friend.’
    ‘I kept thinkin’ about her all last night,’ said Trev.
    ‘Well, she is a wonderful cook,’ Nutt agreed.
    ‘I meant Juliet!’
    ‘Um, and Glenda said to tell you that Juliet’s other name is Stollop,’ said Nutt, hating to be the bearer of worse news.
    ‘What? That girl is a Stollop?’

‘Yes. Glenda said I was to see how you liked that, but I know the meaning of irony.’
    ‘But it’s like findin’ a strawberry in a dogmeat stew, yeah? I mean, the Stollops are buggers, the lot of ’em, biters and cloggers to a man, the kind of bastards who’ll kick your family jewels up into your throat.’
    ‘But you don’t play football, do you? You just watch.’
    ‘Damn right! But I’m a Face, right? I’m known in all the boroughs. You can ask anyone. Everyone knows Trev Likely. I’m Dave Likely’s lad. Every supporter in the city knows about him. Four goals! No one else scored that much in a lifetime! And gave as good as he got, did Dad. One game he picked up the Dolly bastard holding the ball and threw ’im over the line. He gave as