nine

With only one day’s worth of travelling behind him, George was disappointed about feeling as tired and groggy as he did; clearly the dream had given him a bad sleep, and now he felt like nothing more than staying in bed. However, with effort he got up, dressed, had a quick wash in the room’s basin, and realised that little is achieved in life without some expenditure of will.

Collecting together his things he then returned back into the bar. How different it was now, no longer rich with details for the senses, but instead it was empty, quiet, dim and cold.

‘Hello?’ George wanted to pay his bill and was glad to hear activity behind the bar. A man, different to the previous night came out and asked him very brusquely what he wanted. ‘Just to pay for my bill, I was in the room at the back.’

‘Let me just have a look.’ The man began leafing through a battered looking ledger into which the names of guests were written. ‘I can’t see your details in here. How long have you been staying here?’

‘Just one night. And there was a drink on my bill too, from last night.’

‘One night hey?’ The man, with his fat features and beady eyes, reminded George of a pig, and it was not nice to be scrutinised and distrusted. ‘Alright, that’ll be twenty five shillings.’

‘I was told last night the room was just twenty shillings.’

‘Yeah and five for the drink.’

‘I see.’ George reluctantly paid the man and then left, again feeling the keen bite of dissatisfaction.

But the day was looking as if it might be a pleasant one. The sky was already bright, the birds singing rousingly, and there was a firm and invigorating breeze. George wandered slowly towards the sea, hoping to decide what to do whilst looking at the boats and listening to the sea.

His plan was dashed though, for during the night a ship had entered port very unexpectedly, crashing into one of the wharfs. The harbour was a sight filled with confusion. Men were running back and forth from the ship to a warehouse right on the harbour carrying with then boxes from the damaged vessel. Most of these people just looked like the average workers ones may see in such a location, however there were also some very official looking men who were observing the scene by the water’s edge, as well as about twenty policemen, dressed in their customary black, who were keeping away people like George from getting too close. The dock though, despite the number of people and the efforts going on, was very quiet. Only the wind could be heard, the creaking of wood, a few waves, and the occasional word that was pulled from its speaker like smoke from a chimney.

What could George do now? He turned and slowly walked away from the harbour, keeping the sea to his right, and thinking what had been the contents of that ship.

‘Hey…hey young man.’

George looked about but could see no one.

‘Over here.’ A woman was beckoning him over to a doorway. ‘Terrible boat crash hey? And all those police. Did you see the government officials in the red jackets?’

‘Yes I did. Is that who they were?’

‘Oh yes. Come in. It’s important.’