More Deadly Than The Male

He didn't want the other two. He wanted to hear Cora say over and over again that he was wonderful. He wanted her to be very nice to him in that lovely peach-coloured suit. He wanted to be able to hold her in his arms and feel her hair against his face.

Eva and Little Ernie appeared in the doorway. They looked startled.

"Wot's hup?" Little Ernie asked, looking from Cora to George.

"You must hear this," Cora exclaimed, excitedly. "I asked George to get me a complete outfit of clothes. Of course, I was fooling. I knew he couldn't get them at this ti me of the night, but I wanted to pull his leg. I pretended to be dead set on having some clothes for tomorrow . . ."

"Well, I could have fixed you up," Little Ernie said, leering at her. "I've got tons of clothes. It's me job to keep my girls smart, ain't it, Eva?"

This was a triumph for George. Well, he'd beaten the little rat! In the morning Cora would have gone to him, and George would have had the humiliation of seeing her wear clothes from a pimp

"Shut up, Ernie," Cora said sharply. "George has actually done it! It's the most fantastic story I've ever heard. He pinched a taxi, picked up a girl, took her on the Heath and pinched her clothes." George could feel Eva's admiring gaze. Even Little Ernie's mouth fell open.

"For Gawd's sake!" Little Ernie said. "The old Chicago stuff! Wot 'appened to the girl? Cor luv me! I'd given me eyes to 'ave seen 'er. She must 'ave been 'opping mad."

George smirked uneasily. "I didn't bother my head about her," he said, shrugging his shoulders. "I told her to scram, and she scrammed!"

"I bet she did," Little Ernie giggled. "And pinching a taxi! Wot an idea! That's brains! Lolly Cheese! I wouldn't 'aye thought of that one meself."

"Let's look at the clothes," Eva said. "What has he got you?"

"Of course!" Cora cried, snatching the bundle from George. "Let's see if his taste is good."

George giggled with excitement. He couldn't help it. Suddenly it seemed he was one of them. They were smiling at him, nodding at him. They said he had brains. Cora was like a kid in her excitement.

The two girls took the pillowcase over to the bed, while Little Ernie sidled up to George.

"Wot was she like, palsy?" he whispered. "Orl right?"

George winked. He suddenly quite liked this red-headed little man, and when Little Ernie nudged him in the ribs and put the obvious question, George shoved him off playfully and said, "That's telling."

There was a sudden silence that made him turn his head. Cora and Eva were looking at him They were no longer smiling. There was a look of suppressed rage and disappointment in Cora's eyes that startled him.

"Do you like them?" he asked, with a catch in his voice. Little Ernie moved forward. "Wot's hup?"

"Nothing," Cora said viciously. "I might have known the fool was pulling my leg. What are you trying to do, George? Get even?"

George suddenly went cold.

"What do you mean?" he said, feeling the blood leave his face.

"What I say," she said, pointing to the bundle on the bed. He pushed past her and turned the things over. At first he couldn't believe what he saw. He held up one garment and stared at it stupidly. It looked like a pair of black combinations, only it had a long tail. He dropped it as if it had bitten him and stared down at the rest of the stuff.

"It's a Mickey Mouse outfit," Eva cried suddenly. "My God! It's Mickey Mouse!"

Little Ernie started to laugh. Eva joined him Together they shrieked at George and Cora.

"Wot a card!" Little Ernie spluttered. "In the middle of the night! Stone me! 'Ad our Cora properly. Oh dear, oh dear, this'll kill me!" He collapsed howling in an armchair

George turned away. He wanted to be sick. He wanted to die. He heard Cora say in a voice hoarse with frustrated rage, "Get out! Do you hear! Get out, both of you!" And when Little Ernie and Eva, roaring with hysterical mirth, had stumbled out of the room, Cora turned on George. "You rotten rat!" she said. "Do you think that's funny? Do you think you can make a fool out of me?"

George wasn't listening He picked up a scrap of notepaper that he had just noticed lying on the bed. It seemed to be a letter written in small, neat handwriting:

Dear Dick Turpin,

You really shouldn't trust a woman, and you should never threaten if you can't go through with it. I hope the girlfriend likes the costume. From the sound o f her I shouldn't trust her either. It's notApril 1st yet, but remember this when it comes round. You didfrighten me, you know. And I don't like people frightening me.

He became aware that Cora was standing at his elbow, reading over his shoulder. He screwed up the note and turned away, crushed and dazed.