come across his name before. It’s worth pursuing as the passenger lists are a dead end. Please thank your wife, Hilda. Do you mind if I keep it?’
‘Of course.’
‘You don’t happen to know when it was published, do you?’ There hadn’t been a date on the scrap of paper.
He shook his head. ‘No, asked the same thing myself. She can’t be sure but she thinks it’s about ten years old. She’s quite good with dates. Thought it was around the birth of our first grandson.’ He clucked his teeth fondly at the thought of his wife. ‘She’s a terrible hoarder.’
‘Okay,’ I said. ‘That’s a start. And,’ I added as an afterthought, ‘where’s Ashbolten? I’ve never heard of it.
Gerald waved his finger at me. ‘That I do know, funnily enough. Had a friend who lived there for a few years. It’s quite a small village. Pretty. Used to be bigger, but there aren’t many jobs and the young people tend to leave for London. It’s not far from here in fact. About twenty miles south-west.’
‘I’ll have to look into it,’ I said.
‘Let us know how you get on,’ he grinned.
‘Will do.’
Minutes later I was about to board the underground when my phone buzzed. It was Felix wanting to congratulate me on my chapter.
‘Look, I’ve only read the first few pages but I wanted to let you know what an interesting read I found it to be,’ he said. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing where you take it.’
‘Wow,’ I said. ‘I’m surprised you’ve had the time to have a look with everything going on. I’m flattered.’
‘It’s great,’ he said. ‘Very hard hitting. Brings out the injustice of it all. But I think you could do more with your personal reaction. That works particularly well.’
‘Really? I thought I was pushing it a bit?’
‘No, not at all. There’s nothing else like it out there. It would make it unique – a history of the time, tinged with a contemporary journey through the nightmare.’
‘Okay, cool,’ I said. ‘When you read on, you’ll find it gets more personal.’
‘Great,’ he said. ‘Listen, I don’t know what you’re doing next week, but there’s a possibility that I might be able to organise an interview with a Hopkins expert.’
‘Really?’ I was surprised. ‘Who’s that?’
‘Won’t say yet. Don’t want to get your hopes up, only to dash them. Are you free Wednesday?’
‘Yes, at the moment. Where are they? Manningtree?’
‘Oh, yes. I think so. I’ll let you know.’ A female voice called to him from nearby. A lower one, gruff, male, hushed her. ‘Look. I’ve gotta go but I’ll give you a call, okay? Keep it free.’ He paused then said quietly, ‘I’ll accompany you, of course. It would be lovely to see you again.’
I agreed and hung up, then gulped. He was looking forward to seeing me. That was a definite hint. I imagined him reclining in his chair, frowning as he read through my manuscript. Those little lines darting across his forehead as my words, my values, chimed with him. Stop it, I thought. Concentrate on the book.
I was really delighted that he liked the chapter. I had stuck my neck out a bit, and Joe’s words were still swimming in my head; however I’d done the right thing and Felix’s reaction vindicated me. Here was someone who could appreciate the vivid qualities that my research and ‘connection’ were bringing to the writing.
As twilight descended, I dived into the rush hour underground, and let myself relish all the affirmations my editor had delivered.
By the time I connected onto the overland train to Essex it was dark.
Unfortunately we were at the tail end of the rush hour commute, which meant standing room only until Basildon. Not that I minded, particularly. I was still buzzing. In fact, I found, as we left the station, I was literally trembling. Strangely. And not synchronously with the movement of the train.
Nor with my own bodily functioning.
This peculiar sensation was like a strange super-vibration that thrummed through my body. It must have started slowly and increased little by little without my paying attention to it. Or maybe my subconscious had written it off as an incidental movement, an eccentricity of that particular train. It was only as I sat down in a newly vacated seat that I realised the buzz continued. I scanned the faces of my fellow travellers to see if any appeared to have picked up on it but they were all calm, if not rather bored.
Perhaps, I wondered, there was something on