Opposite the Cross Keys
Page 26
The river took me unaware. No reeds to advertise its imminence, the cow parsley growing almost to the water’s edge. The boat, tied to a short stake fore and aft, sat squat and still on the water like a contented duck.
How glad, I thought, it must be to be out of that dark room, off those blocks and on to an element that miraculously yielded to its weight yet at the same time bore it up! It was just the right size of river too – not so narrow as to be unworthy of the name, not so wide as to be unfriendly, the two opposite banks not on speaking terms.
The river took me unaware. So did the couple on the boat’s tiny deck. I drew back among the cow parsley before they could see me, lowered my bicycle gently on its side.
I do not think they would have noticed me had I rung my bicycle bell peremptorily, ting-a-ling! Ellie in her cotton frock, the front unbuttoned, was sitting on one of the folding chairs, her legs apart, her face up to the sun, eyes closed. She seemed to be purring. Chicken stood behind her combing her hair.
He was dressed as usual, all in black except for his shirt. But – oh horrors! – for once, his cap was off and the awful secret was out. Chicken was bald, his bare white patch in startling contrast to the brown of his face. The fringe of curl which had peeped out so fetchingly from under his cap was all the hair he had.
Down the lacklustre length of Ellie’s hair went the ghastly comb. As I watched, Chicken paused in his labours, bent over and kissed the upturned forehead, once and once again. On the bow of the boat I could read its name, painted in blue: Lady Ellie.
I picked up my bicycle and mounted, making no attempt at concealment. Chicken went on combing Ellie’s hair. I wobbled back down the track, the bike jolting from one pot-hole to the next, moving through a mist of cow parsley which wavered in and out of my tear-blurred vision like grasses seen under water, bending with the current. I bumped along until I was out on the road again, heading for home.
Copyright
First published in 1988 by Constable
This edition published 2012 by Bello an imprint of Pan Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited Pan Macmillan, 20 New Wharf Road, London N1 9RR Basingstoke and Oxford Associated companies throughout the world
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Copyright © S T Haymon, 1988
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