Scarborough.'
'Or
they kill you,' said the Chief, blowing smoke.
The
Chief knew I was inclined to nerves, and so would rib me in this way, and I
preferred this open style of joshing to the strange smiles he'd given in the
Beeswing Hotel.
'Just
let 'em try,' said Tommy Nugent. 'I hope they bloody do!’
Having
collected an oil can from the footplate, he was now touring the lubrication
points of the engine. He carried on talking as he did it, but sometimes he'd go
out of sight and in one of those moments I said to the Chief:
'Seems
a pleasant enough bloke, but he talks a lot... might be a bit of a handful in
the house.'
'He's
plucky though.'
'How'd
he come by the leg?'
'Shot
wound. Tom was in the York Territorials ... wandered onto the target range at
Strensall barracks.'
No
wonder he was in with the Chief then. The Chief was not in the Territorials
himself, but as an old soldier he had many connections with them. And he liked
any man who shot. He was forever trying to get me at it - and he'd described
the missing man, Blackburn, as a good shot.
Nugent's
voice had gone muffled as he oiled underneath the engine, but it came clear
again as he climbed up out of the inspection pit:
'The
good thing is, Jim, that I really am a driver, and you really were a fireman or
so I've heard.'
'I
was a passed cleaner, but I did plenty of firing. Then I turned copper ... and
now I'm very likely off to be a solicitor.'
'Blimey,'
said Tommy Nugent. 'Restless sort, en't you?'
'He
has a restless wife,' said the Chief, 'which comes to the same thing', and so
saying he shook both our hands and went off. I watched him hunch up as he
retreated between two engines. He was lighting a new cigar. What did it say on
the firework tins? Light the blue touch paper and retire. The question biting
me was this: did he know more about the situation in Paradise than he was
letting on?
The
Shed Super had gone off too, and I was left alone with Tommy Nugent and the
busted engine. Tommy took his watch from his waistcoat pocket.
'All
set?' he said.
'Aye,'
I said,
'Be
a lark, this, won't it?' he said.
'Aye,'
I said. 'Hope so.'
Chapter
Ten
'I
want this rolling to stop,' I said.
It
helped not to look at things - to keep my eyes closed. But there was no help for it; I had to look. On the table beside the chart was the
coffee pot, a tin of Abernethy biscuits, a box of wax matches (the label showed
a cat with glowing eyes and the words 'See in the Dark') and the Captain's
pocket revolver. It had a beautiful walnut stock, worn from use by the looks of
it. The chart itself I had given up on. It showed only sea: there was a fold
where there might have been the beginnings of land. A north point was drawn at
the top of it: a sort of glorious exploding star with a capital N riding above,
and I felt we must be moving in that direction for the chart room was growing
colder by the second. If I had thought on, I might have come to a different conclusion
about our direction of travel, but all I knew was that the sun was rising
somewhere and making the sky violet, which was more or less the colour, I also
knew, of one of the last rooms on land that I had been in.
As
the light rose, the rain had eased a little and the figure on the bridge stood
a little more clearly revealed as a man in a great-coat and a woollen hat. He
hardly touched the wheel, but just stood by it with arms folded, looking always
forward (I had not seen his face) where the prow of the ship plunged and rose
with great determination. I could see it all through the windows of the chart
room: the fore-deck rising one second, half under swirling waves the next.
Until
I'd fallen to staring at the objects on the table I had been talking, but I
could not now quite remember what I had been saying or for how long. I could
not lay hands on my pocket watch, and I could not see any clock in the chart
room. I'd started by demanding - in-between the head racking electric pains -
to know how I had come to be
'Or
they kill you,' said the Chief, blowing smoke.
The
Chief knew I was inclined to nerves, and so would rib me in this way, and I
preferred this open style of joshing to the strange smiles he'd given in the
Beeswing Hotel.
'Just
let 'em try,' said Tommy Nugent. 'I hope they bloody do!’
Having
collected an oil can from the footplate, he was now touring the lubrication
points of the engine. He carried on talking as he did it, but sometimes he'd go
out of sight and in one of those moments I said to the Chief:
'Seems
a pleasant enough bloke, but he talks a lot... might be a bit of a handful in
the house.'
'He's
plucky though.'
'How'd
he come by the leg?'
'Shot
wound. Tom was in the York Territorials ... wandered onto the target range at
Strensall barracks.'
No
wonder he was in with the Chief then. The Chief was not in the Territorials
himself, but as an old soldier he had many connections with them. And he liked
any man who shot. He was forever trying to get me at it - and he'd described
the missing man, Blackburn, as a good shot.
Nugent's
voice had gone muffled as he oiled underneath the engine, but it came clear
again as he climbed up out of the inspection pit:
'The
good thing is, Jim, that I really am a driver, and you really were a fireman or
so I've heard.'
'I
was a passed cleaner, but I did plenty of firing. Then I turned copper ... and
now I'm very likely off to be a solicitor.'
'Blimey,'
said Tommy Nugent. 'Restless sort, en't you?'
'He
has a restless wife,' said the Chief, 'which comes to the same thing', and so
saying he shook both our hands and went off. I watched him hunch up as he
retreated between two engines. He was lighting a new cigar. What did it say on
the firework tins? Light the blue touch paper and retire. The question biting
me was this: did he know more about the situation in Paradise than he was
letting on?
The
Shed Super had gone off too, and I was left alone with Tommy Nugent and the
busted engine. Tommy took his watch from his waistcoat pocket.
'All
set?' he said.
'Aye,'
I said,
'Be
a lark, this, won't it?' he said.
'Aye,'
I said. 'Hope so.'
Chapter
Ten
'I
want this rolling to stop,' I said.
It
helped not to look at things - to keep my eyes closed. But there was no help for it; I had to look. On the table beside the chart was the
coffee pot, a tin of Abernethy biscuits, a box of wax matches (the label showed
a cat with glowing eyes and the words 'See in the Dark') and the Captain's
pocket revolver. It had a beautiful walnut stock, worn from use by the looks of
it. The chart itself I had given up on. It showed only sea: there was a fold
where there might have been the beginnings of land. A north point was drawn at
the top of it: a sort of glorious exploding star with a capital N riding above,
and I felt we must be moving in that direction for the chart room was growing
colder by the second. If I had thought on, I might have come to a different conclusion
about our direction of travel, but all I knew was that the sun was rising
somewhere and making the sky violet, which was more or less the colour, I also
knew, of one of the last rooms on land that I had been in.
As
the light rose, the rain had eased a little and the figure on the bridge stood
a little more clearly revealed as a man in a great-coat and a woollen hat. He
hardly touched the wheel, but just stood by it with arms folded, looking always
forward (I had not seen his face) where the prow of the ship plunged and rose
with great determination. I could see it all through the windows of the chart
room: the fore-deck rising one second, half under swirling waves the next.
Until
I'd fallen to staring at the objects on the table I had been talking, but I
could not now quite remember what I had been saying or for how long. I could
not lay hands on my pocket watch, and I could not see any clock in the chart
room. I'd started by demanding - in-between the head racking electric pains -
to know how I had come to be
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