All Quiet On The Orient Express
Magnus Mills
Language: English
Pages: 224
ISBN: 1559704950
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
straight away that the thumping noise was coming from the concrete mixer. Its diesel engine had been put back together and started up, and it was now being watched intently by Mr Parker and Kenneth Turner. Kenneth was wearing a blue boiler suit and stood holding an adjustable spanner in his hand. Both of them seemed to be mesmerized by the mixer’s bucket, which rotated slowly round and round before their eyes. For a whole minute they looked at it, then another minute after that, while I stood
losing his temper with me. It was one thing being slow on the uptake and clumsy with tins of paint; it was another matter entirely to put a perfectly good piece of machinery out of action. Bryan Webb and the others had warned me countless times about Tommy Parker’s temper, and this time I was certain I would be on the receiving end of it. Nonetheless, I had no choice but to go home and face the music. As if to worsen my plight, the skies darkened and it started raining. There was no cab on the
Packhorse. Nobody had said anything about me ‘letting them down’ on that previous occasion, and I assumed from their silence on the subject that I was forgiven. Now it was just a matter of time before I was fully accepted as a team member again. The way Bryan had bought me a pint beforehand suggested that this wouldn’t be too long at all. Feeling fairly contented about the way things had gone, I wandered back to the bothy and went straight to bed. I was asleep the moment my head hit the pillow,
object to you coming with me?” “None of his business.” “But what if he finds out?” “Look,” snapped the old man. “Do you want my help or not?” “Of course I do.” “Well stop going on about him then.” “Alright,” I said. “Sorry.” Having settled the matter we didn’t mention it again, but continued driving through the pre-dawn darkness towards Greenbank. We arrived at the dairy bang on five o’clock and I backed straight up to the loading bay, where the men were ready and waiting. It turned out
a she. A vase of flowers in the window, however, suggested a female presence, and I soon began to get the feeling that this was where Lesley stayed. After all, no one except a young woman living on her own could make a bottle of milk last the whole week. I imagined she led a busy life, and only had time for a quick cup of tea every now and then. The empty bottle on the doorstep, I noticed, was always rinsed to perfection. Having discovered where Lesley lived, I then realized that the information