The Underground Man by Mick Jackson

Author:Mick Jackson [Mick Jackson]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780571267750
Publisher: Faber & Faber
Published: 2010-01-14T16:00:00+00:00

DECEMBER 4TH

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Since Conner’s recent treatment I have had not the least inclination to eat, my body perhaps regarding a reconstituted backbone as quite enough on its plate without being troubled with digestion’s stresses and strains. Around lunchtime yesterday I managed a sliver of toast spread with a mushroom pâté, but that has been about the only solid food to pass my lips.

Mrs Pledger, however, is adamant I should at least maintain my consumption of liquids and boiled up for me a big pot of camomile and lemon-balm tea. This, I was assured, would calm me down after the recent hectic days and encourage in me a more tranquil frame of mind. I must admit that, while the aroma (and indeed flavour) are reminiscent of some damp corner of the garden, I found I had soon developed quite a taste for it. A fondness which rapidly developed into a fierce, almost unquenchable thirst. It seemed the more I drank of the strange yellow brew the more desiccated I became. Perhaps I have recently misplaced some vital inner juice. Perhaps my body recognized in the tea some mineral which I currently lack. What ever, my original request for Mrs Pledger to boil up a second pot was swiftly followed by ever more frequent and desperate appeals. I felt thoroughly parched, like some poor wretch lost on a desert’s sands and, like a human sponge, I soaked up every last sip.

By early evening, however, the prodigious tea-drinking had caught up with me and the constant trips to the water closet were becoming tedious. I was awash with camomile and lemon-balm. If I shifted too quickly in my armchair I could feel pints of the stuff splashing around inside, so that when Mrs Pledger put her head round the door around seven she found me beached in my armchair, utterly (if naturally) intoxicated and having difficulty staying awake. At which point Clement was called to help put me to bed.

To cap it all I slept remarkably well – without interruption or a single bad dream. The most satisfying sleep I have had in many a month. When I woke, a good fourteen hours after my head first hit the pillow, I felt myself thoroughly rested and quite a new man, although when I opened my mouth to let out a yawn found my breath still had about it the faint reek of scented grass.

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