The Gulp by Alan Baxter

Author:Alan Baxter
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Alan Baxter
Published: 2021-01-19T00:00:00+00:00

They walked down the hill and came to the main street leading into town, turned right towards the harbour. A park with a decent sized playground on one side, shops and a few cafes on the other. They found the museum, an old sandstone building, but it was closed up, with no opening hours displayed anywhere. A tattered poster had been pinned to the door, faded with time and rain. It asked, Have you seen Daniel? and featured a grainy photo of a lank-haired youth.

On the far side of the park, a road led back up to the north side of town, more houses of varying age spreading out. Then a path ran around the harbour. The water glittered in a large half circle and on the far side was the harbour proper, with breakwater walls and a variety of boats moored up. Most were fishing boats, but a few leisure vessels bobbed among them. On the far side of the harbour was a row of buildings that ended with a large fish and chip shop.

“Back here for lunch?” Ciara said.

They walked out along the headland beyond the harbour, all the way to the lighthouse that marked the end point. It was tall, stark white against the sky. Patrick imagined it half-built, Governor Gulpepper standing on the cliff edge with his arms raised. He vaguely remembered blood red clouds and things falling but had no idea why that image was in his mind. A cold wind blew across and he shivered.

“I can’t get used to it being winter in the middle of the year,” Patrick said. “Nearly July and it’s cold.”

“Hardly cold compared to our winters,” Torsten said.

“Well, no, but you know what I mean. I’m glad I have a sweater on.”

“I like it,” Simone said. “Clear and sun but not hot. Remember you the last trip?” she asked Torsten.

He laughed. “Yeah, that was hot! We came to Australia once before, and we started in Darwin, but it was January. So hot and humid, it was awful.”

“There’s a beach down there,” Ciara said, pointing over the south side of the head.

They walked down that way, taking their time to enjoy the views, and found the beach was quite small, but it had a nice aspect and was low between the head and the next rise of land, so it was sheltered. Behind the gravelly black sand was another park, another set of bright plastic play equipment. Four people sat at one of the picnic tables, the only others there. They were a strange bunch, Patrick thought. A young woman, a middle aged woman and man, and an elderly man. Maybe a family group? But they didn’t look alike other than they were all incredibly pale. They just sat there, staring at nothing, not talking. They gave Patrick the creeps.

A noticeboard stood at the corner of the park, weathered wood with scratched Perspex in front. It had a variety of community notices, flyers for yoga classes, local produce, Man And A Van For Hire.

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