Free A Greater World by Clare Flynn Page A

there, but the moment was destroyed as her throat filled with smoke and she began to cough and splutter.
    'Don't say I didn't warn you!' He was laughing at her as she handed the cigarette back. His face changed when he laughed – the little worried lines that were usually etched around his eyes and mouth relaxed and his face was open and happy. She expected him to throw the cigarette overboard but he put it to his own mouth and inhaled. She blushed at the thought of the thin paper moistened from her own lips now resting between his. It seemed a curiously intimate thing for him to do.
    They sat in silence, as her breathing gradually returned to normal and he puffed away contentedly on his roll-up.
    'Still with Cathy on the Yorkshire Moors then?' He nodded towards the book on her lap.
    'No. I finished it. But I wish I were. I mean I wish I were there really, instead of here amidst all this endless ocean. I long to feel grass under my feet again. Solid ground.'
    'Aye me too. The best part of the sea is the bit that's next to the land. All this empty space gives me the willies. It's as though we're at the end of the earth and over the horizon there we might just sail off the edge and fall into space.'
    'So you're a flat earther are you, Mr Winterbourne?'
    He smiled. 'If I am, I reckon this voyage'll cure that!'
    'If you don't like the open sea, what do you like?'
    He didn't hesitate. 'The fresh air on me face and the smell of cut grass in summer. The sound of a curlew flying over the dale. Burning leaves on an autumn afternoon. Catching a trout in a stream as clear as glass, me bare feet in the cold water and smooth stones under them. Me mam's lamb hotpot when times are good and her vegetable soups when they're not. And me old dog. I s'pose I sound right daft don't I? But I do miss the dale. Like I never thought I would.'
    'You lived there all your life. It's understandable.'
    'What about you? What do you like?'
    'Let me think... the sound of the conductor tapping his baton to ready the orchestra and that little tremor of silent excitement and anticipation that ripples up inside you as you wait for the first chord to sound and the concert to begin.'
    'You like music then?'
    'Don't you?'
    'I don't know anything about that kind of music. I grew up with just hymns in chapel. I've never been to a concert or heard an orchestra. Only the music hall. That were alright – but there's no conductor tapping his baton and no one waits in silence for it to start. More like as they're all yelling for the performers to get on with it. I like the idea of a classical concert though. A proper one.'
    'Then you must go! When you get to Sydney.'
    'That kind of music isn't for the likes of me.'
    'It's for everyone. For anyone.'
    'I'd be uncomfortable.'
    'Then come with me!' As the words spilled out of her mouth she felt embarrassed but excited, fearful she had overstepped the mark, but already anticipating the pleasure of sitting in a darkened auditorium beside him. 'I mean, only if you'd like to... I could explain what the music was about. Just to get you over the first time. Then you'd be relaxed enough to go on your own.'
    'In that case, I'll have to do the same for you.'
    'What do you mean?'
    'Take you to a music hall or take you fishing.'
    'I'd love that!' Her face lit up.
    Then Michael's face clouded over. She sensed him withdraw from her. She was confused by him: one moment enthusiastic, open and warm, making her feel privileged as his confidante, and the next closed down and silent, brooding. She supposed it was the War. So many men were like that these days.
     
     
    The next day, when she went into the dining room for lunch, he was sitting alone.
    'Mr Winterbourne, may I join you?'
    The man got to his feet and nodded at the seat opposite him.
    'I hate eating alone, don't you?' she said.
    He shrugged and she wished she'd sat elsewhere. Her words were not even true. She preferred eating alone to making small talk with other passengers. The