see down the main street and around the corner, away out of the small town. The other way the houses stretched off down a hill. The afternoon was turning into evening and little rooms were dimly lit. Net curtains were drawn across the windows and other curtains on top to keep out the draughts no doubt, she thought.
She began to walk up the main street and along it. It wasn’t busy. Most sensible people were inside and she was so chilled that she longed to join them. George was beginning to falter beside her. She must find some place forthem to stay and soon, yet she continued to walk. Finally she came to where the road turned and there on the corner was a big well-lit building. The sign read The Black Diamond.
Emma gathered what courage she had left, took George’s hand for comfort and ventured inside. The smell was the first thing that hit her, the smoke of cigarettes and a fire, stale beer fumes sour-sweet and unwashed bodies. The second thing was that it was busy, full of men. They lined the place like wallpaper; they stood, lounged, took their ease, yet few of them were sitting. They wore grimy caps and their faces were creased and either pale or dirty. They smoked and they had big glasses in their work-worn hands.
They were intent on the conversation and at first they ignored her. She moved beyond the hallway and into the room on the right. Men sat at small round tables playing dominoes and a fire beckoned, though she could see it only beyond their legs. The air was grey-blue with smoke, almost orange with tobacco fumes, and the smell of beer was thick enough to choke you. As she left the doorway and moved nearer to the bar the conversation became less of a hum and more of a broken rhythm.
The men were not like those she knew. Their upper bodies were well developed, their lower bodies less so; they were mainly short in stature. They wore old suits, the material tired and in some cases mended or in holes.
A well-built oldish man standing behind the bar was staring at her.
‘You cannot come in here, love,’ he said in a low, almost embarrassed, voice.
Emma took a deep breath amid the silence. ‘Do you have rooms?’
He went on looking at her, but perplexed now. ‘Nay, lass,’ he said.
Somebody laughed.
‘Aw, give the lass a room, Ed,’ some wit ventured. ‘We could take turns.’
Emma understood the implication immediately and her face burned, but nobody laughed. What a strange code they had. It wasn’t polite to say such things in front of a woman, he had gone too far. The barman didn’t look at her and all the noise died. Even the fire was silenced. And then somebody said, ‘Shite, Bill, bugger off,’ and the tension was released.
‘I will pay,’ she said.
He shook his head and went back to polishing glasses as he had been doing when she first came in. Emma looked helplessly around her.
‘You can come home with me, pet,’ somebody said, and they all laughed.
Then somebody else said, ‘Why lad, she’s old enough to be thee mother. Leave the woman alone.’
‘Isn’t this a hotel?’ she said loudly to gain the barman’s attention.
‘It’s a public house,’ Ed said.
George’s fingers tightened. He was very tired.
‘Are you the owner?’ she said.
‘I’m just the bar keep.’
‘I’d like to see the owner. Is he here?’
Ed looked at her and there was bitter humour in his eyes and the way that his mouth straightened. ‘Mr Castle doesn’t see people, love.’
‘Tell him I would like to see him. Now,’ she said.
‘He—’
‘Now,’ Emma insisted.
The man didn’t look up. He disappeared into the back and conversation started around her again. She could hear the clack of dominoes, even the fire burning. The men turned their backs as though she was not there, as though they had been at some kind of concert and the entertainment was over.
It was a short while, though it seemed longer, until Ed came back and then he beckoned her beyond the bar and out of the room and
She began to walk up the main street and along it. It wasn’t busy. Most sensible people were inside and she was so chilled that she longed to join them. George was beginning to falter beside her. She must find some place forthem to stay and soon, yet she continued to walk. Finally she came to where the road turned and there on the corner was a big well-lit building. The sign read The Black Diamond.
Emma gathered what courage she had left, took George’s hand for comfort and ventured inside. The smell was the first thing that hit her, the smoke of cigarettes and a fire, stale beer fumes sour-sweet and unwashed bodies. The second thing was that it was busy, full of men. They lined the place like wallpaper; they stood, lounged, took their ease, yet few of them were sitting. They wore grimy caps and their faces were creased and either pale or dirty. They smoked and they had big glasses in their work-worn hands.
They were intent on the conversation and at first they ignored her. She moved beyond the hallway and into the room on the right. Men sat at small round tables playing dominoes and a fire beckoned, though she could see it only beyond their legs. The air was grey-blue with smoke, almost orange with tobacco fumes, and the smell of beer was thick enough to choke you. As she left the doorway and moved nearer to the bar the conversation became less of a hum and more of a broken rhythm.
The men were not like those she knew. Their upper bodies were well developed, their lower bodies less so; they were mainly short in stature. They wore old suits, the material tired and in some cases mended or in holes.
A well-built oldish man standing behind the bar was staring at her.
‘You cannot come in here, love,’ he said in a low, almost embarrassed, voice.
Emma took a deep breath amid the silence. ‘Do you have rooms?’
He went on looking at her, but perplexed now. ‘Nay, lass,’ he said.
Somebody laughed.
‘Aw, give the lass a room, Ed,’ some wit ventured. ‘We could take turns.’
Emma understood the implication immediately and her face burned, but nobody laughed. What a strange code they had. It wasn’t polite to say such things in front of a woman, he had gone too far. The barman didn’t look at her and all the noise died. Even the fire was silenced. And then somebody said, ‘Shite, Bill, bugger off,’ and the tension was released.
‘I will pay,’ she said.
He shook his head and went back to polishing glasses as he had been doing when she first came in. Emma looked helplessly around her.
‘You can come home with me, pet,’ somebody said, and they all laughed.
Then somebody else said, ‘Why lad, she’s old enough to be thee mother. Leave the woman alone.’
‘Isn’t this a hotel?’ she said loudly to gain the barman’s attention.
‘It’s a public house,’ Ed said.
George’s fingers tightened. He was very tired.
‘Are you the owner?’ she said.
‘I’m just the bar keep.’
‘I’d like to see the owner. Is he here?’
Ed looked at her and there was bitter humour in his eyes and the way that his mouth straightened. ‘Mr Castle doesn’t see people, love.’
‘Tell him I would like to see him. Now,’ she said.
‘He—’
‘Now,’ Emma insisted.
The man didn’t look up. He disappeared into the back and conversation started around her again. She could hear the clack of dominoes, even the fire burning. The men turned their backs as though she was not there, as though they had been at some kind of concert and the entertainment was over.
It was a short while, though it seemed longer, until Ed came back and then he beckoned her beyond the bar and out of the room and
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