as if the gods were pulling it in many different directions at once.
STOP IT! Happy place. Happy place. Happy place!
We were eating lunch on the beach. Sandwiches and a pork pie, fresh orange juice, and that Guatemalan coffee we always drink. A wonderful taste; subtle spice flavour, with a dry, nutty finish. Super-smooth. That's what we're drinking. Me and Brin, sitting in a comfortable silence, watching a boat emerge from the Cromarty firth, Baggins playing at the water's edge.
'Ladies and gentlemen, we're making an emergency landing... to sit out the storm... we'll try to make it as smooth as possible...'
And that was all he managed to say. Even the words sounded like they were being tossed around. If I'd been thinking clearly, I'd have preferred that he was concentrating on landing the plane than keeping the passengers up to date, so his brevity would have been appreciated.
I wasn't really thinking, however. At least, I was trying not to. I was trying to be somewhere else.
I wanted to look out the window, but couldn't bring myself to do it. I might have seen how far off the ground we still were. I didn't want to know. I needed to lose myself by the sea, I needed to lose myself in the sights and sounds and tastes of somewhere far away, with the two people I loved.
Two of the three people I loved...
'I'm a bit cold, Daddy,' said Baggins, walking up the beach. 'Can I have some coffee?'
'You don't like coffee.'
'It's not that cold,' said Brin.
'You just think that because you've got coffee,' said Baggins. 'It's freezing.'
Brin and I looked at each other. We knew what was coming.
'Can I have ice cream?' asked Baggins.
'I thought you were cold?'
'Ice cream's good for cold. Because you usually only eat ice cream when it's hot, it makes your brain think that it is hot, and so you feel warmer.'
'Nice try, kid,' said Brin.
'It's true, it was on Brainiac ,' said Baggins earnestly. 'And crisps,' she added. 'Can I have crisps?'
Brin made a face, but nevertheless dug some money out of her pocket and handed it to her.
'If you go and get the ice cream yourself.'
Baggins took the money, her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth.
'Watch out for cars,' I said, even though she didn't need to cross the road.
'And no crisps,' said Brin, 'just ice cream.'
'Thanks, Mummy,' she said, and she was off.
We watched her for a moment, then we took a sip of coffee at the same time, as if we were competing in some synchronised beverage drinking event, and looked back out over the sea.
The most wonderful afternoon. Pale blue sky, very light, hazy cloud taking the edge off the sun, a slight sea breeze. Perfect temperature.
'It's gorgeous,' said Brin.
'Brace! Brace! Brace!'
No! No! No! I didn't want to hear that! I didn't want the voice intruding. Go away! Happy place. Happy place. Happy place...
I could hear the seagulls. The mournful seagulls, crying against the warmth of the day, the sharp sound etched against the stillness of a perfect summer.
Happy place. Happy place. Happy place.
'Brace!'
*
'Y ou need to tell us about the Jigsaw Man,' said the female agent. Agent Crosskill was sitting next to her. He looked rough. Either working late, or out drinking perhaps. I couldn't smell anything from him.
If he looked rough for not sleeping, how bad did I look? How many days had I been here? I had no idea. No sense of time. Trapped in this insane environment. Trapped after a fashion, if not exactly locked in.
My head was buzzing. Some hormone or other had kicked in. They had eventually brought me some food and a bottle of water. Perhaps there'd been something in the food. I'd had to eat it, even though it had occurred to me that it might have been infused with a truth serum. Wouldn't that be what they'd do in a movie? Movies were the only frame of reference I had for this situation.
Did it matter if they filled me with truth serum? The truth that I knew didn't implicate me in anything, didn't make me look particularly bad.
STOP IT! Happy place. Happy place. Happy place!
We were eating lunch on the beach. Sandwiches and a pork pie, fresh orange juice, and that Guatemalan coffee we always drink. A wonderful taste; subtle spice flavour, with a dry, nutty finish. Super-smooth. That's what we're drinking. Me and Brin, sitting in a comfortable silence, watching a boat emerge from the Cromarty firth, Baggins playing at the water's edge.
'Ladies and gentlemen, we're making an emergency landing... to sit out the storm... we'll try to make it as smooth as possible...'
And that was all he managed to say. Even the words sounded like they were being tossed around. If I'd been thinking clearly, I'd have preferred that he was concentrating on landing the plane than keeping the passengers up to date, so his brevity would have been appreciated.
I wasn't really thinking, however. At least, I was trying not to. I was trying to be somewhere else.
I wanted to look out the window, but couldn't bring myself to do it. I might have seen how far off the ground we still were. I didn't want to know. I needed to lose myself by the sea, I needed to lose myself in the sights and sounds and tastes of somewhere far away, with the two people I loved.
Two of the three people I loved...
'I'm a bit cold, Daddy,' said Baggins, walking up the beach. 'Can I have some coffee?'
'You don't like coffee.'
'It's not that cold,' said Brin.
'You just think that because you've got coffee,' said Baggins. 'It's freezing.'
Brin and I looked at each other. We knew what was coming.
'Can I have ice cream?' asked Baggins.
'I thought you were cold?'
'Ice cream's good for cold. Because you usually only eat ice cream when it's hot, it makes your brain think that it is hot, and so you feel warmer.'
'Nice try, kid,' said Brin.
'It's true, it was on Brainiac ,' said Baggins earnestly. 'And crisps,' she added. 'Can I have crisps?'
Brin made a face, but nevertheless dug some money out of her pocket and handed it to her.
'If you go and get the ice cream yourself.'
Baggins took the money, her tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth.
'Watch out for cars,' I said, even though she didn't need to cross the road.
'And no crisps,' said Brin, 'just ice cream.'
'Thanks, Mummy,' she said, and she was off.
We watched her for a moment, then we took a sip of coffee at the same time, as if we were competing in some synchronised beverage drinking event, and looked back out over the sea.
The most wonderful afternoon. Pale blue sky, very light, hazy cloud taking the edge off the sun, a slight sea breeze. Perfect temperature.
'It's gorgeous,' said Brin.
'Brace! Brace! Brace!'
No! No! No! I didn't want to hear that! I didn't want the voice intruding. Go away! Happy place. Happy place. Happy place...
I could hear the seagulls. The mournful seagulls, crying against the warmth of the day, the sharp sound etched against the stillness of a perfect summer.
Happy place. Happy place. Happy place.
'Brace!'
*
'Y ou need to tell us about the Jigsaw Man,' said the female agent. Agent Crosskill was sitting next to her. He looked rough. Either working late, or out drinking perhaps. I couldn't smell anything from him.
If he looked rough for not sleeping, how bad did I look? How many days had I been here? I had no idea. No sense of time. Trapped in this insane environment. Trapped after a fashion, if not exactly locked in.
My head was buzzing. Some hormone or other had kicked in. They had eventually brought me some food and a bottle of water. Perhaps there'd been something in the food. I'd had to eat it, even though it had occurred to me that it might have been infused with a truth serum. Wouldn't that be what they'd do in a movie? Movies were the only frame of reference I had for this situation.
Did it matter if they filled me with truth serum? The truth that I knew didn't implicate me in anything, didn't make me look particularly bad.
Similar Books
