Turtle Diary

47 William G

Sandor stopped in bed Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday, and for those three days I found the bath and cooker clean every morning. If he used the cooker at odd times when I was out there was no evidence of it. Maybe Mrs Inchcliff was looking after him. And of course he wasn’t buying fresh supplies of squid and seaweed while he was laid up. Maybe he was cooking things that left no trace. I wasn’t quite interested enough to visit him again.

Friday he was up and about again. The bath was almost clean, only a hair or two. The cooker was just that tiny bit mucky but without the usual smell. Well, I couldn’t make a career of it really. The two fights had been sufficient satisfaction, or almost. I could fight Sandor every day and maybe even win now and again by foul means if not fair but I had no way of forcing him to clean the bath and the cooker.

At the shop Harriet and I were polite to each other. It had come to that. Instead of brushing against each other and touching as often as possible we now avoided contact like thieves wary of a burglar alarm. With no prospect of getting her clothes off again I found the thought of her naked charms vivid in my mind from time to time but I didn’t want to be half of the ‘We’ who did this and that and were invited here and there. I didn’t want to be expected anywhere as a regular thing. I didn’t fancy any more early music either, and there were still two recitals left in the series we’d subscribed to. I’d give her the tickets, she could find someone else to go with easily enough.

On Tuesday I’d rung Neaera up to tell her what our expenses had been. The van and the petrol had come to £26.56, which made her share £13.28. The crates and the rope were on me. ‘We promised George Fairbairn a report of the expedition,’ I said. ‘Maybe we ought to drop in at the Aquarium one day soon.’

‘I have done,’ she said. ‘But I’m sure he’d like a visit from you as well.’

I went to see him on Saturday. The two small remaining turtles were back in the tank now, they looked like orphans. Well, I thought, take care of yourselves and grow big and maybe one day somebody will take you to Polperro.

‘Anybody say anything yet?’ I asked George.

‘Nobody’s been,’ he said, ‘except the blokes who work with me. Nobody from the Society.’

‘Maybe nothing’ll happen at all,’ I said. ‘Is that possible?’

‘It’s what I expect,’ he said.

Well, I hadn’t done it to make the headlines. Still I would have thought some notice would be taken in this part of the world at least.

He gave me a cup of tea in STAFF ONLY. The lady with the big boobs smiled from her photo by the duty-roster. No champagne today. It occurred to me just then that I could have brought him a thank-you bottle of something but of course I hadn’t. I never miss.

‘How’re you feeling now that you’ve done it?’ he said.

I shrugged. ‘I think the turtles are better off,’ I said, ‘which was after all the object of the exercise.’

‘But?’ he said.

‘You know how it is,’ I said. ‘Launching the turtles didn’t launch me. You can’t do it with turtles.’ Why was I talking to him like a son to a father? He wasn’t older than I or wiser. Just calmer.

‘You can’t do it with turtles,’ he said. ‘But with people you never know straightaway what does what. Maybe launching them did launch you but you don’t know it yet.’

‘How’s Neaera?’ I said. ‘She said she’d been to see you. I haven’t seen her since we got back.’

‘She’s all right,’ he said, and rolled a cigarette. He did it very deftly, it was a nice smooth cigarette.

‘You think it’s launched her?’ I said.

‘Hard to say,’ he said.

We finished our tea and I left. There were friendly feelings on both sides but neither of us urged the other to stay in touch.