At our last writers' circle meeting we were tasked with writing what happens to a £10 note when it passes through the hands of at least three people. On the night we had stories from the note's point of view, theft and some adventures. We had 40 minutes writing time. Here's my contribution:
Henry’s Present
It was a miserable, wet, windy autumn evening. The show started at
7 and Henry could hardly contain his excitement. Holding tight to his mother’s
hand, he stood in the queue patiently, but even so hopped from foot to foot in anticipation.
“Be still Henry, we will get in, I promise you.” The long queue
for the new blockbuster ‘The Yellow Rolls Royce’ was full of chatting people,
and it moved so slowly. As they neared the entrance to the Gaumont, the huge
poster outside showing the famous faces of the cast loomed over Henry. He
thought they looked like giants! Henry grew from excited to anxious. “Have you
still got it, mamma?” he queried, looking up at her in her fawn overcoat and
matching hat. “Of course dear, your birthday present from Grandma is safe in my
handbag.” Which was, of course, also matching.
Henry’s legs were cold in his shorts, but mother had insisted he wear his clean school uniform for such an important night out. After what seemed an age they reached the kiosk and mother handed the cashier the crisp ten pound note that marked Henry’s 10th birthday. “You will look after the change, won’t you mamma?” he asked, and she smiled, taking the tickets and the change from the serious looking cashier (a ten pound note needed at LOT of change!). They went in, and Henry’s night went from anticipation back to excitement as he looked forward to his first cinema trip that also promised ice cream at the interval. It was the culmination of a wonderful day – his grandmother had given him the ten pound note – “a pound for every year of your life so far, dear Henry” she’d said, and he had grasped it with astonishment. Mother had quickly taken it into her care, and after much discussion the cinema trip was planned. Now the ten pound note was with the cashier, and there was plenty of change from the six shillings it cost them both to get in. Plenty for ice cream, and plenty for Henry’s greatest ambition, the new bicycle!
They went into the cinema and took their seats, and as the credits
rolled, the cashier was banking the door takings into a large canvas bag. There
were a few pound notes, and many ten shilling notes, but only the one ten pound
note. She let her fingers linger on it, admiring the picture of the Queen, and
feeling the strange texture as it slipped from her fingers into the cash bag. A
small sigh escaped her. She wouldn’t be seeing many of those in a hurry.
Inside the cinema Rex Harrison was buying a yellow rolls Royce as
an anniversary present. Henry briefly wondered if he could have afforded one
with his ten pound note, but was soon lost in the magic of cinema. Henry loved
the film – the car, the music, the exotic locations. Funny really, as that
morning he had woken in his bed at home in Finchley, waiting for his
grandmother, like any normal boy.
Margaret (Henry’s grandmother) had planned the generous gift for
some time. It had taken her months to save up and when she at last had the full
ten pound notes, she went specially to the bank to change it for a single note.
That had been the previous week, and in the days leading up to Henry’s
birthday, she had put it away safely in her dear departed husband’s family
bible. “No one would look for money in there,” she thought to herself, and
tucked the money into Genesis at her favourite part: “Let the water teem with living creatures, and let
birds fly above the earth across the vault of the sky.” She always imagined god waving his hand
and birds appearing as if he was scattering petals. Every evening she had gone
to the Bible to ‘read’, but in truth it was to touch the note and imagine the
excitement of her small grandson as she gave it to him.
The bank manager had been so kind,
concerned that she was giving a young man such a huge sum – and such
responsibility! But she knew that her daughter would look after it, as she had
Henry. With kindness, consideration and care – and above all, thoughtfulness.
The film came to an end and a very
tired Henry yawned and clung on to his mother’s hand as the throng of people
left the cinema. It had been wonderful! “Have you still got the change,
mother?” He asked again. She smiled and pulled him through the crowd, holding
tight on to her handbag that held the nine pounds and twelve shillings that
remained of Henry’s birthday present. (If you are busy doing mental arithmetic
now, don’t forget they had ice cream!)
Henry and his mother went home, and
the shutters came down on the cinema as every last person, even the
projectionist, had gone home. The manager had come and taken the cash bag ready
to pop into the night safe. And the cashier, she headed home with her high
heels and bright lips, and a guilty conscience. The ten pound note that had
slipped into the cash bag had also slipped out again, and into the pocket of
her coat. As she walked down the dark, wet street, her hand was thrust deep
into her coat, and she could feel the note crisply scrunched as she tried to
push her guilt out of sight.
Turning off the high street and into
her road, she imagined the sound of footsteps behind her. Was she being
followed? She daren’t stop and look! The street lights shed a dim yellow glow,
but even so there were plenty of shadows for someone to hide in. She walked
more quickly, hurrying towards her little house and her husband. How would she
explain it to him? She wouldn’t. Her hand was sweaty on the note, and she was
as tense as a cello string. She reached her door and turned to look – no one
there. She huffed at her own imagination and opened the door.
Inside her husband was asleep in his
chair, with the radio still playing the light programme. “Hello dear” she said,
and he started as he woke at the sound of her voice.
“Oh, hello. Good film?”
“You know I don’t watch them,” she
chided. “I’ll make some cocoa. Time for bed.” She took off her coat and palmed
the note, thinking about where she should hide it (from her husband as much as
any imagined robber). She saw the Bible in the bookshelf and, while her husband
busied himself with emptying his pipe, slipped it in. She didn’t know it, but
she’d popped it right at Timothy, 6:10 “For the love of money is a root of
all kinds of evils”. There was an irony, had she ever read the Bible. That
ten pound note stayed there for almost two years – hiding itself, hiding her
guilt. She was never found out at the cinema, but was wracked with anxiety every
time the same denomination appeared at the cashier’s kiosk. What she did with
it, well that is another story, and another family’s excitement and drama. Ten
pounds may not seem much today, but in 1964, you could do a lot with ten pounds
– far more than just going to the cinema and buying ice cream.
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