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Authors: Zillah Bethell

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BOOK: Seahorses Are Real
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‘Well, like I said, you know, you'll have your princes coming down… they'll probably take you to royal balls and galas. They'll say: ‘It's only for very special people this.' And you'll stand in the great ballrooms next to the enormous paintings which are fifty foot tall and thirty foot wide... and the great draperies, the great drapes hanging down the walls, great silken drapes worth a million pounds each one they are, see. And the great chandeliers, you know, that sparkle like all the stars shoved into one spot. See that?'

‘Yeah,' Marly replied, her eyes glistening in the dark.

‘You'll dance with princes and dukes and earls. And even the Queen will break tradition just to have a quick scoot around the floor with you!' He smiled tenderly. ‘You likes that don't you?'

‘Oh, it's nice.'

‘That's right. And, you know, you'll have your own little cat and dog.'

‘Will I?'

‘Oh yeah, you'll have little Snowdrop.'

‘Aaah!'

‘Who'll get fed bits of... orange from the man from Delmonte, cos he's in the queue with his little hat on. And his white suit!'

‘Nice that.'

‘And er...Tipperary, the little cat, who sits in the window of the shop on his purple and gold cushion.'

‘That's lovely that.'

‘Keeping an eye out on the old fishmonger down on the front there, flapping his fish about.'

‘What's the front like then?' Marly asked curiously, propping herself up on her elbow.

David thought for a moment with his eyes closed. ‘Well, you're on the harbour where you can see all the little white sails cos all these businessmen, they come in their boats, you know, and hop off to get your trinkets. There are lots of little shops on the front there, too, but none of them are doing half as blinking good as yours! See that?'

‘I likes that.'

‘That's right. I know you like it.'

‘Good, that is.'

‘Well, it's the truth. It's the truth see. And they get a bit jealous… and one or two of them, they have to kind of shut up shop and move somewhere else.'

‘They do?'

‘Cos they can't cope with all the customers queuing up, you know, they just sort of stand past the windows, they don't go in
their
shops.'

‘No.'

‘Just queuing up past the windows, they have to push past them in the mornings, they do.'

‘Oh dear,' gleefully, ‘that's terrible.'

‘That's right. But, you know, what you do is, on the quieter days, you have a bit of lunch or whatever and you shut up shop and take a walk down to the little front and watch the waves sort of lapping in gently.'

‘Oh, that's nice that.'

‘And you look around at all the people there. There's a woman reading her Jackie Collins novel, engrossed, great big hat on her head, great big sunglasses, you know, you can't see her face. She might not have a face; it's just buried in her Jackie Collins novel. And, er, there's a couple in the water...'

‘Oh yeah?'

‘Young couple, you know, getting very frisky with each other... very frisky. Practically “en flagrante”..!'

‘In your dreams!'

He laughed delightedly.

‘Yeah, yeah, in your dreams you little munchkin!'

‘Eh? Honest it's true! It's true, it happens. I can see it now, it's bound to happen! They'll be splashing about there, you know, you'll kind of cough, avert your eyes a bit.'

‘Mmm.'

‘And there's a little kid scooting about on his skates all over the place. He's gotta be careful he doesn't get sand in 'em mind.'

‘That's fun that.'

‘That's right. And he's talking to Jack, the old sailor. He's sat on a great big barrel is Jack, wrapping his ropes around, sorting his ropes out.'

‘Oh yeah, they do that don't they, fishermen.'

‘They do. Exactly. That's the sort of thing they do when they're not fishing,' David grinned. ‘And, er, he's got a pipe in his mouth, you know, not the little boy now, that's the…'

‘Fair enough.'

‘…fisherman… and the little boy's saying, “Tell us about the sea, mister. Tell us about the sea.'''

‘Tell us about the sea!' Marly laughed in mock disgust. ‘He's not gonna say that is he?'

‘Course he is. He doesn't know much. He's never been to sea has he.'

‘He'd say: “Tell us about the
critters
in the sea.'''

‘We-ell, I suppose he would…'

‘“Tell us about the octopussy,” he'd say.'

‘Yes, I suppose... no no, he'd tell him about the sea.'

‘Alright, carry on then, carry on.'

David made a noise somewhere between a snort and a cough. ‘He'd start puffing his pipe like that.'

‘Fair enough.'

‘‘‘I spent thirty years on thart sea there. Thirty years o' my life on thart sea; and I tell yer what, I tell yer what, it's a tough…”'

‘Is he Irish as well is he?'

‘No, no, no, he's Cornish innit! My accent's alright, it's your hearing that's funny.'

‘Yes, yes. Very good, very good!'

‘Puffing away on his pipe like a good'un he says: “I tell yer boy, it's a tough life on the sea.” The boy says: “Tell us about the sea monsters then mister....'''

‘Go on then, carry on.'

‘‘‘Oh, I tell yer, there's some narsty sea monsters I've seen, the worst one bein' the krarken!'''

‘The kraken?'

‘The kraken, yes. He says: “The krarken... I was on the South China seas in my boat
The Plimsole
when…'''

‘
The Plimsole
?!'

‘‘‘Thirty year ago. And I tell yer boy, I TELL YER, it was a right frightenin' experience. There I was standing, I was Captain of
The Plimsole
, surveyin' the surroundings, when all of a sudden a great slippery arm came up the side of the boat. And on the other side of the boat another great slippery arm came up. Then another three slippery arms came up each side of the boat: there were eight slippery arms! He was a giant octopus, that krarken, a great big giant octopus!'''

Marly giggled.

‘‘‘He was I tell yer,''' excitedly. ‘‘‘He started rocking the boat and all the men were panickin' but I didn't, I didn't, see….'''

‘Course not!'

‘‘‘I kept calm, I knew what to do. We were transporting pepper see, we were transporting barrels of pepper that day to the South China seas….'''

‘What they transporting pepper there for?'

‘They haven't got it there that's why,' David replied in his normal voice. ‘Dear oh dear, you don't trust me at all do you?'

‘No, carry on.'

‘Anyway, and he says: “I tell yer boy, I knew what to do. I knew the krarken had a very large nose so what I did was I said Come on Harry, get this barrel overboard. And we opened the top and we threw it overboard and all of a sudden his arms kind of started quiverin', they started a quiverin' on the side of the boat they did cos, you know, he's affected badly, the krarken, by pepper… and he makes a sort of puffy noise and all of a sudden his arms flailed about and he went Awhoooshoo…!'''

‘Didn't that turn the boat over?'

‘‘‘I tell yer what it did boy, I tell yer what it did...'''

‘What did it do?'

‘‘‘One minute we were in the South China seas...'''

‘Yeah?'

David paused for dramatic effect. ‘‘‘Thirty seconds later we were in the South Indian seas, I tell yer! He sent us flying through the air he did!'''

‘Bet he did!'

‘‘‘Honestly, I tell yer boy that's the truth.''' And then in the little boy's voice: ‘‘‘That's a load of old rubbish mister!'''

‘I bet he did,' Marly laughed. ‘I bet he said that's a load of old crap you fucking...'

‘‘‘That's a load of old rubbish mister. There's no such thing as a kraken.” “...I'll kraken you round the head in a minute young boyo…. Run along my lad, run along...'''

‘I bet he says you fucking nobhead doesn't he.'

‘Well,' David laughed, ‘he doesn't say you fucking nobhead no. He's not quite at that age yet!'

They dissolved into helpless laughter for a while and David took a sip of water from the lipstick-clouded glass by the side of the bed. Marly smiled dreamily and nestled her head in the crook of his arm. ‘You tellin' the truth now?' she asked, childishly hopeful.

‘That's the truth yeah, that's how it's gonna be. It's guaranteed see.' He squeezed her arm. ‘And I'll get myself a little job mending shoes just down the road. You can come in of a lunchtime, I'll be sorting the soles out on a pair of alligator skin tips!'

‘Fair enough.'

‘So, you know, at the end of the day you shut up shop; you say: “Go away everybody. The shop is shut, it will not be open now...'''

‘Do I live at the top of the shop?' Marly asked suddenly.

‘Oh yeah, it's a lovely little flat overlooking the sea. You've painted it up and you've got all your bits there...'

‘Is it big, the flat at the top?'

‘It's a cute little flat, a cosy little flat, not cramped, not the sort of thing you'd give yourself a neck-ache standing about because the roof's so small. You can stretch about in it, it's very nice; and, you know, Snowdrop and Tipperary will be up there – they've got little baskets there.... And I come along from the shoe shop, me hands smelling of leather, I come up and you cook a nice little pasta meal for us, nice little pasta meal,' he repeated, nudging her.

‘I see. I cook it up do I?'

‘Oh yes. Course you do! I've been slaving away in the shoe shop. I've been trying to nail some soles on, mush!'

‘I'll nail a sole on you in a minute, darling!'

‘That's not very nice is it? I mean I'll do the washing up.' His voice became gentler. ‘Anyway, at night we can go for a walk down to the beach can't we. We can walk down the little cobbled street down onto the beach, Tipperary and Snowdrop following us. We can take our shoes off and run down to the sand, get the sand
between our toes and have a little paddle in the water.'

‘Oh, it's nice.'

‘You can feel the waves sort of lapping up; we watch the sun going down; listen to the seagulls squawking. We can go and stand there and hear the silence of the sea sort of coming at us.' He took hold of her hand and they both lay very still. ‘I'll hold your little hand, Tipperary will be down by my side, Snowdrop will be down by yours, paddling their feet. See that? And we'll sit on the shore we will, watching the sun dipping itself into the water until it's gone.'

She murmured something, her eyes staring.

He went on slowly, intently. ‘You can see the boats in the distance, you can… the ships going off to far flung lands, going off to America, going off to Africa, to China… Australia…. We'll wave at them and they'll wave back.'

‘We wouldn't see them if it was dark,' she pointed out in spite of herself.

‘We-ell, I mean they can. They've got fantastic equipment these days, these ships.
They can see us and we can see them... sailing off….' He waited for a moment.

‘And then late at night we can walk back home, back to your little flat. Snowdrop and Tipperary are rather tired now: they've had a busy day, you know, cos Tipperary's been trying to get his fish, Snowdrop feels rather stuffed up with orange segments….' They laughed together and the mood lightened. ‘So we walk back through the quiet streets and the only noise you can hear is like a piano being played and a sea shanty being sung down at the er... Lobster Basket on the corner. You can hear this sea shanty being sung about “The Krarken and how I fought with him!'''

‘Oh yeah? How does that go then?'

David sang in a Cornish accent, ridiculous above the sheets.

‘I knew a kra-ken

And he tried to get me back-en

I'll get him back-en

One of these da-ays.'

‘That's a fucking good song innit? I've never heard such rubbish in me life. Call that a sea shanty?'

‘It's a shea shanty of a short,' he chanted.

‘It's a shea shanty of a short.

It's a shea shanty of a short!'

They collapsed into giggles and he went on as if winding up the story. ‘Then we go back to your door, you see, and in runs Tipperary and in runs Snowdrop; then you turn round and give me a kiss on the chops.'

BOOK: Seahorses Are Real
3.82Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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