the less.’
Harry was looking at him wide-eyed. ‘Is that it? Thass deep, boy.’
‘In the war,’ Arthur said, ‘a lot of people like padres were very fond of quoting that, and there were reasons for it to stick in my mind. “Every man’s death diminishes me”—that I can quote you.’
‘Thass very strange,’ Harry said, ‘very strange that you tell that to me. I mean, here am I, spendin my days buildin up this sea-defence thing, to keep the clods from fallin off the promontory. And feelin the way I do about Paul and—oh Christ, poor little Ena. And you sayin that, that bring the two things together. And thass how it feels, just like that. Like clods was fallin off me, and I was gettin smaller.’
‘It tolls for thee,’ said Arthur quietly.
‘Howzat?’ Harry asked. ‘Does what for me?’
‘Therefore send not,’ Arthur explained, ‘to know for whom the bell tolls.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Harry said. ‘Crackin film.’ He looked at his watch, and scowled. ‘Shit, I’ve missed that one on the box, one of those about this good guy gooin around New York murderin all the bad guys. I like that kind of thing.’
In the late light the harbour was all of one colour: dove-grey. The bare woods of the far shore could hardly be separated from the smooth water and heavy sky which they divided. All the remaining light of the day seemed to be drawn to the white paint of a small freighter moving down the estuary to the sea.
Black Sam had got out of his taxi and was pacing up and down at the edge of the quay. His hands were deep in the pockets of a sheepskin coat and his body was tightened against the chill. He stopped to stare at the ship.
A tough-looking small boy in an anorak wandered past him, muttering: ‘How do, Sam.’ At the sound of his name the black man came down to earth suddenly, and returned: ‘How do,’ but with a look at the child that failed to recognize him.
The boy, pausing, identified himself. ‘Killer,’ he said.
‘Oh, sure. You keepin well, Killer. D’you know that flag, Killer? I bet you know them all.’
‘Thass Panama,’ Killer said. ‘You see a foo of them go by here.’
‘Long way from home,’ Sam said, absently, following the passing of the ship.
‘Home?’ Killer said. ‘Dunno where her home would be, but not Panama. Panama’s what they call a convenience. You ever been there, Sam?’
‘Been where?’ Sam asked. ‘Oh, Panama. Christ, no; I int never been out of England.’
‘Uh?’ said the boy, looking disbelieving. ‘I thought you come from somewhere near Panama.’
‘I come from Ipswich, boy,’ Sam said. ‘Born and bred there. I int travelled a lot in my life.’
The boy seemed disappointed, but stuck to the subject of geography. ‘My dad says thass ever so hot, like so hot it’s steamy. You can see jungle, and big birds, storks or something like that. Thass a big thing, that Canal. My dad says the first time he went through there that give him quite a proud feelin about the hooman race.’
‘Your dad’s deep-sea,’ Sam reasoned. ‘Oh, I’ve got you. Your grandad’s big Billy what has the Galley, right?’
‘Thass right,’ Killer said. ‘You know, Sam, that surprise me that you int never been to them warm countries. I mean, I stand here watchin the ships go by, and I dream about them places, and I’m English.’
‘So am I, boy,’ said Sam, low.
‘I mean, I s’pose you’ve got relations you could go and stay with.’
‘Not a lot,’ Sam muttered. Turning away from the water, he gave the child a bleak glance. ‘I imagine you’ll see more of faraway places than I ever shall, Killer. Well, I’m off—see you around, I expect.’
But when he had closed himself into his taxi he sat for a while, hands on the steering wheel and chin on his hands, watching the white ship glide by the grey woods and fields, on its way, presumably, to colour and the sun.
He had always been one to let things pass, in the faith that difficulties and
Harry was looking at him wide-eyed. ‘Is that it? Thass deep, boy.’
‘In the war,’ Arthur said, ‘a lot of people like padres were very fond of quoting that, and there were reasons for it to stick in my mind. “Every man’s death diminishes me”—that I can quote you.’
‘Thass very strange,’ Harry said, ‘very strange that you tell that to me. I mean, here am I, spendin my days buildin up this sea-defence thing, to keep the clods from fallin off the promontory. And feelin the way I do about Paul and—oh Christ, poor little Ena. And you sayin that, that bring the two things together. And thass how it feels, just like that. Like clods was fallin off me, and I was gettin smaller.’
‘It tolls for thee,’ said Arthur quietly.
‘Howzat?’ Harry asked. ‘Does what for me?’
‘Therefore send not,’ Arthur explained, ‘to know for whom the bell tolls.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Harry said. ‘Crackin film.’ He looked at his watch, and scowled. ‘Shit, I’ve missed that one on the box, one of those about this good guy gooin around New York murderin all the bad guys. I like that kind of thing.’
In the late light the harbour was all of one colour: dove-grey. The bare woods of the far shore could hardly be separated from the smooth water and heavy sky which they divided. All the remaining light of the day seemed to be drawn to the white paint of a small freighter moving down the estuary to the sea.
Black Sam had got out of his taxi and was pacing up and down at the edge of the quay. His hands were deep in the pockets of a sheepskin coat and his body was tightened against the chill. He stopped to stare at the ship.
A tough-looking small boy in an anorak wandered past him, muttering: ‘How do, Sam.’ At the sound of his name the black man came down to earth suddenly, and returned: ‘How do,’ but with a look at the child that failed to recognize him.
The boy, pausing, identified himself. ‘Killer,’ he said.
‘Oh, sure. You keepin well, Killer. D’you know that flag, Killer? I bet you know them all.’
‘Thass Panama,’ Killer said. ‘You see a foo of them go by here.’
‘Long way from home,’ Sam said, absently, following the passing of the ship.
‘Home?’ Killer said. ‘Dunno where her home would be, but not Panama. Panama’s what they call a convenience. You ever been there, Sam?’
‘Been where?’ Sam asked. ‘Oh, Panama. Christ, no; I int never been out of England.’
‘Uh?’ said the boy, looking disbelieving. ‘I thought you come from somewhere near Panama.’
‘I come from Ipswich, boy,’ Sam said. ‘Born and bred there. I int travelled a lot in my life.’
The boy seemed disappointed, but stuck to the subject of geography. ‘My dad says thass ever so hot, like so hot it’s steamy. You can see jungle, and big birds, storks or something like that. Thass a big thing, that Canal. My dad says the first time he went through there that give him quite a proud feelin about the hooman race.’
‘Your dad’s deep-sea,’ Sam reasoned. ‘Oh, I’ve got you. Your grandad’s big Billy what has the Galley, right?’
‘Thass right,’ Killer said. ‘You know, Sam, that surprise me that you int never been to them warm countries. I mean, I stand here watchin the ships go by, and I dream about them places, and I’m English.’
‘So am I, boy,’ said Sam, low.
‘I mean, I s’pose you’ve got relations you could go and stay with.’
‘Not a lot,’ Sam muttered. Turning away from the water, he gave the child a bleak glance. ‘I imagine you’ll see more of faraway places than I ever shall, Killer. Well, I’m off—see you around, I expect.’
But when he had closed himself into his taxi he sat for a while, hands on the steering wheel and chin on his hands, watching the white ship glide by the grey woods and fields, on its way, presumably, to colour and the sun.
He had always been one to let things pass, in the faith that difficulties and
Similar Books
