Rosy Is My Relative by Gerald Durrell

Author:Gerald Durrell
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: General Fiction
ISBN: 9781447214502
Publisher: AudioGO
Published: 1968-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

14. LANDFALL

Adrian, to his surprise, thoroughly enjoyed their short voyage on the Sploshport Queen. He had Rosy securely shackled to a massive steel bollard and felt reasonably sure that she could not get into trouble. He went below to the dining-saloon and bought them each a pint of ale, some buns for Rosy, and some sandwiches for himself and then, while they were sharing this meal, he leant on the rail and admired the sunset and the way its light seemed to smooth out the surface of the waves so that they looked like great bales of silk, unrolled across a draper’s counter.

Rosy took to this new experience with her normal equanimity. She at first evinced a great interest in the sea; presumably, Adrian thought, because the sight of so much liquid forced her to the conclusion that it was drinkable and possibly intoxicating. However, finding it unobtainable from the deck, she soon gave that up and settled down to her normal rhythmic swaying from side to side, with her eyes half closed.

It was quite dark by the time they reached the Island of Scallop and, having disembarked, Rosy and Adrian made their way along the narrow cobbled streets of the town, pausing now and then to ask directions from strangers.

Eventually the road led them out of the town, over some sand-dunes, and there in the middle of the dunes like an extraordinary piece of flotsam was a small cottage constructed entirely from weather-beaten planks and bits of wood that must, at one time or another, have been cast up by the sea. Lights peered but of the windows and above the sigh of the sea Adrian could hear wafted to him the mournful sounds of a tuba in inexperienced hands, picking its way through what he, with difficulty, recognised as “My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose.” The sand-dunes stretched away in every direction without a sign of any other habitation, and Adrian decided that this must be the house of Ethelbert Cleep. He and Rosy scrunched their way across the dunes and knocked on the door. The tuba uttered a discordant bellow like a bull and fell silent. After a moment, they could hear footsteps approaching the door.

“No artistry,” shouted a voice from behind the door. “Bloody Philistines, banging and crashing when I’m in the middle of practice. Who is it? Who is it?”

Adrian cleared his throat.

“I’m Adrian Rookwhistle,” he shouted.

“Adrian, did you say?” enquired a voice from behind the door. “A boy?”

“Yes,” said Adrian, for want of a better reply.

The door was flung open and there stood a little man as tiny and as fragile as a sparrow. Adrian surveyed him incredulously. He was dressed in a long, thick, mustard-coloured cardigan which stretched almost to his knees and was done up with a series of enormous, bright gold, heavily embossed buttons; pearly grey velveteen trousers and a pair of black and white boots of weird design completed his ensemble, He had a mass of straw-coloured hair

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