Longleg by Glenda Adams

Author:Glenda Adams [Adams, Glenda]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Angus & Robertson
Published: 2013-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Part III

William met Tillie his first night in Brussels, his second night in the northern hemisphere.

The bus that brought William from Heathrow to London left him at Victoria station. Although he had no plans, no destination, he strode through the station with purpose. As he walked with his duffle bag on one shoulder, he felt a presence at his side, a companion, silent but palpable, just out of sight beside the bulk of the duffle bag, slightly behind him. He stopped short. He had a companion, an invisible companion, and it was a woman. If he switched the duffle bag to the other shoulder he need only reach out the hand nearest her to place it flat on her shoulder blade, then her shoulder, and draw her to him. If he leant down, his cheek would press her hair. If he turned, surely he would see her beside him. Nevertheless he kept his eyes forward. If she stayed beside him, fine. If she disappeared, that was fine, too. He needed no one.

He stood listening to the announcements of train departures, waiting to sense what his companion would do. She seemed to step away, toward the ticket booth and he moved there too, keeping the duffle bag between them. He found himself buying a ticket for the train to Dover, about to depart, connecting with the night ferry to Ostend.

In his compartment sat a young couple, probably students, and another couple, older, with a child who was drawing in his colouring book with crayons. One of the students, the young man, said to his partner, ‘Let’s play Chinese chequers,’ and at that moment two young Chinese, a man and a woman dressed in identical checked pullovers, leant against the windowed wall of the compartment. The child, riffling through his box of crayons, chanted ‘Brown, brown, where’s the brown,’ and he held up the brown crayon just as a tall, brown-skinned Indian passed by, paused, and looked into the compartment, almost as if he had been summoned, then moved on.

As William settled himself into his seat he understood that his companion was no longer there, and he thought of rushing off the train. Surely he had made a mistake. This train was not for him. But imperceptibly the train had begun to move and had already slid out of the station.

William’s companion did not reappear. He reproached himself for being stupid enough to rely on something he could only describe as a presence, and putting it down to jet lag, he allowed himself to be carried along upstairs, downstairs, through immigration and customs and onto the ferry, where he found a corner chair and curled up, uncomfortably, with his head on the hard, rigid arm of the vinyl chair, like a child, until finally he had to stretch his legs out, resting his head on the back of the chair, staring up at the ceiling, then closing his eyes and trying to sleep, while dozens of travelling students with their rucksacks piled in a heap in the corner of the deck cavorted and drank beer.

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