pocket. Somewhere in Canada in the future she will be smiling off a screen, telling people she’s never seen and never will things about tartan and clans and the place she’s from. Her voice will come out of a TV into the air of a place she has no idea about. There are versions of her all over the world by now; smiling versions of her have crossed so many seas and she doesn’t even know it.
Maybe she should push the blind up and go out there and help the girl. She should use the hot drinks water. Nobody will know; she will say they sold a huge number of teas and coffees. It’s such a hot day. Nobody will wonder. She will put in money out of her pay to make it look like more were sold. She will hide a pile of sachets and tea bags in her rucksack. The German woman will blink and nod and say she saved her life. The girl with the eyes that can read unexpected languages will smile at her. Maybe she is from the city that Gemma is going to be studying in. Maybe when the boat docks today and Gemma leaves for home, the girl will tuck the book under her arm and follow Gemma the Cruise Assistant home at a distance, being shy, and knowing Gemma is shy. On the way home Gemma will slow down and let her catch up; they will walk past the cemetery along to the end of the canal and down into the town, and Gemma will show her the sights. The art gallery. The museum. The cathedral. The theatre. The castle. The rabbits eating the grass on the hill under the castle, if they are patient enough to catch sight of them. The seals in the river, if they’re lucky, if the river is low. The places where Gemma went to school. The boat office. Gemma has a key; everybody else will have gone home. There will be nobody else in there, it will be empty, and the light will be evening light by then. She tosses her hair. She takes a deep breath.
When she reaches to open the blind she finds it’s locked. Then she can’t find the tiny key she needs for the padlock anywhere. She looks on all the surfaces. She goes through all her pockets one by one, then does this over again. She looks all around her on the floor. She empties the rubbish out and checks through it. She picks up the stool. She empties the sachet boxes. She looks behind the whisky miniatures.
She pulls at the padlock but though it’s only a small one it won’t give. She turns it up the way so she can see its slot. She pokes at it with her nail, then lets it drop. She can’t remember whether Andy has a key for it or not. She sits back down on the stool.
There is nothing to do about it. The room she is in sways because the boat is swaying on the surface of the water, tugging at the ropes that hold it to the dock, and it is nowhere even near time to go yet, so nobody will find her for ages, and it is hot, it is almost airless, and now she is thirsty herself and there is absolutely nothing in here that she is allowed to drink.
She is drunk it is theee ooonly waay to beee. The trees have moveen tops look. It is good drunk. It is better than good, it is the only way, drunk as a skunk is it ck? as a sck un ck drun ck and even though she is it, even though she is out of her brain like, she is pretty good becaaaause she can still. Really straight like a marksman man, like a expert marksman man, really. She hit it she must have like really good aim to be so pissed and still hit it. She heard it hit the stone IN LOVING MEMORY CHARLES ROBERT CAMERON BORN 4 DECEMBER 1907 DIED 18 MARCH 1978 THE LORD GAVETH AND THE LORD TAKETH AWAY bottle never broke kind of, uh. Bounced, uh huh, must have hit it on the thick glass bit of it not the thin glass bit of it. So she can throw it again if she gets up and goes over and gets it back, she can throw it again if she gets up and. She is smashed, not it. Ha ha ha. She is the thin. She is what is it out of her brain is what she is, out of her b.
Never even broke rememer don’t forget it it is a good thing to. She has drunk it all now it is all finished because the
Maybe she should push the blind up and go out there and help the girl. She should use the hot drinks water. Nobody will know; she will say they sold a huge number of teas and coffees. It’s such a hot day. Nobody will wonder. She will put in money out of her pay to make it look like more were sold. She will hide a pile of sachets and tea bags in her rucksack. The German woman will blink and nod and say she saved her life. The girl with the eyes that can read unexpected languages will smile at her. Maybe she is from the city that Gemma is going to be studying in. Maybe when the boat docks today and Gemma leaves for home, the girl will tuck the book under her arm and follow Gemma the Cruise Assistant home at a distance, being shy, and knowing Gemma is shy. On the way home Gemma will slow down and let her catch up; they will walk past the cemetery along to the end of the canal and down into the town, and Gemma will show her the sights. The art gallery. The museum. The cathedral. The theatre. The castle. The rabbits eating the grass on the hill under the castle, if they are patient enough to catch sight of them. The seals in the river, if they’re lucky, if the river is low. The places where Gemma went to school. The boat office. Gemma has a key; everybody else will have gone home. There will be nobody else in there, it will be empty, and the light will be evening light by then. She tosses her hair. She takes a deep breath.
When she reaches to open the blind she finds it’s locked. Then she can’t find the tiny key she needs for the padlock anywhere. She looks on all the surfaces. She goes through all her pockets one by one, then does this over again. She looks all around her on the floor. She empties the rubbish out and checks through it. She picks up the stool. She empties the sachet boxes. She looks behind the whisky miniatures.
She pulls at the padlock but though it’s only a small one it won’t give. She turns it up the way so she can see its slot. She pokes at it with her nail, then lets it drop. She can’t remember whether Andy has a key for it or not. She sits back down on the stool.
There is nothing to do about it. The room she is in sways because the boat is swaying on the surface of the water, tugging at the ropes that hold it to the dock, and it is nowhere even near time to go yet, so nobody will find her for ages, and it is hot, it is almost airless, and now she is thirsty herself and there is absolutely nothing in here that she is allowed to drink.
She is drunk it is theee ooonly waay to beee. The trees have moveen tops look. It is good drunk. It is better than good, it is the only way, drunk as a skunk is it ck? as a sck un ck drun ck and even though she is it, even though she is out of her brain like, she is pretty good becaaaause she can still. Really straight like a marksman man, like a expert marksman man, really. She hit it she must have like really good aim to be so pissed and still hit it. She heard it hit the stone IN LOVING MEMORY CHARLES ROBERT CAMERON BORN 4 DECEMBER 1907 DIED 18 MARCH 1978 THE LORD GAVETH AND THE LORD TAKETH AWAY bottle never broke kind of, uh. Bounced, uh huh, must have hit it on the thick glass bit of it not the thin glass bit of it. So she can throw it again if she gets up and goes over and gets it back, she can throw it again if she gets up and. She is smashed, not it. Ha ha ha. She is the thin. She is what is it out of her brain is what she is, out of her b.
Never even broke rememer don’t forget it it is a good thing to. She has drunk it all now it is all finished because the
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