by Trevor Hoyle
‘I shall be all right,’ I replied. ‘I will be all right.’
‘Mmm.’ He tried to look at me more closely but then gave it up as being either too much trouble or none of his business. He turned away, almost tending to shrug slightly. He had been about to make a gesture of some kind, reaching out to establish a point of meaningful contact, but had realised that it was futile anyway and would not achieve anything.
‘Oh, before I forget,’ he said. ‘The bathroom is next door and so is the lavatory. Be careful not to use too much hot water and watch out for the overflow in the lavatory. The cistern leaks too.’ He stumbled over something going to the window where he tried again, unsuccessfully, to operate the Venetian blind.
‘Are there any towels?’ I asked for something to say.
‘No, no towels. No soap either.’
‘Can’t be helped. Doesn’t matter.’
The Geordie came back to the centre of the room, standing beneath the bulb pouring out its yellow light. There were shadows everywhere, especially in the murky recesses of the room. He seemed to see it for a moment with new eyes, rotating his head slowly to look at the bed, the table, the chair, the sink, the stove, the floor-covering.
‘Not much,’ he said, ‘I must admit’ – a wan smile playing about his lips. ‘You could smarten the place up a bit, I suppose, but at the moment there’s nothing here to bring joy into anybody’s life. The trouble is you get people here for only a short while, a week or a day, like the last one. Came and went and hardly saw him.’
‘You won’t have that trouble with me,’ I said. ‘I don’t intend leaving.’
‘You’re going to make it sort of your permanent base, so to speak?’
‘Such as it is.’
‘Yes.’ He paused, then repeated, ‘Yes,’ having a last look round as if wondering what he could say to put the best possible complexion on things. ‘It is a bit of a dank dark hole,’ the Geordie agreed. ‘But you’ll be safe here. And in the evening the sun shines in through the Venetian blinds. The one who had it before you – or should I say was going to have it – was a queer fish. But he upped and went, leaving in a hurry. Doubtless you remember him?’