1984

           Invisualizinghimonesawalwaysapictureofdimpledkneesandsleevesrolledbackfrompudgyforearms. Parsonsdid,indeed,invariablyreverttoshortswhenacommunityhikeoranyotherphysicalactivitygavehimanexcusefordoingso. Hegreetedthembothwithacheery‘Hullo,hullo!’andsatdownatthetable, givingoffanintensesmellofsweat. Beadsofmoisturestoodoutalloverhispinkface. Hispowersofsweatingwereextraordinary. AttheCommunityCentreyoucouldalwaystellwhenhehadbeenplayingtable-tennisbythedampnessofthebathandle. Symehadproducedastripofpaperonwhichtherewasalongcolumnofwords,andwasstudyingit withanink-pencilbetweenhisfingers. 

           ‘Lookathimworkingawayinthelunchhour,’saidParsons,nudgingWinston. ‘Keenness,eh? What’sthatyou’vegotthere,oldboy? Somethingabittoobrainyforme,Iexpect. Smith,oldboy,I’lltellyouwhyI’mchasingyou. It’sthatsubyouforgottogiveme.’ 

           ‘Whichsubisthat? ’saidWinston,automaticallyfeelingformoney. Aboutaquarterofone’ssalaryhadtobeearmarkedforvoluntarysubscriptions, whichweresonumerousthatitwasdifficulttokeeptrackofthem. 

           ‘ForHateWeek.Youknow—thehouse-by-housefund. I’mtreasurerforourblock. We’remakinganall-outeffort—goingtoputonatremendousshow. Itellyou,itwon’tbemyfaultifoldVictoryMansionsdoesn’thavethebiggestoutfitofflagsinthewholestreet. Twodollarsyoupromisedme. ’Winstonfoundandhandedovertwocreasedandfilthynotes,whichParsonsenteredinasmallnotebook,intheneathandwritingoftheilliterate. 

           ‘Bytheway,oldboy,’hesaid. ‘Ihearthatlittlebeggarofmineletflyatyouwithhiscatapultyesterday.