Cock & Bull - Laura Barnard Page 0,3
strong, that for a moment I’m blinded by it. When I count to ten and open my eyes again I can see that the dark pub is anything away from a quick lick of paint.
It’s covered in big, ugly cobwebs; so huge they could be leftover Halloween decorations. It’s only the very real spiders that confirm they’re not fake. Gross.
The walls look like they were originally painted white but now appear yellowed with patches of damp. Ah, that’ll be the bad smell. Some walls are wallpapered, but are peeling so bad a quick tug and they wouldn’t be. The carpet is sticky under our feet. I trudge through it to lean against the mahogany bar, the only thing that looks relatively tidy. Well, under the cobwebs. I lean my arm on it and turn to speak to Ella, ready to give her a motivational pep talk. Only the wood goes from beneath me, and before I know it, I’ve fallen flat onto the floor.
Fuck!
What the hell happened? I clutch at my throbbing side. I can’t concentrate on any other potential injuries because Ella is wetting herself laughing.
‘I’m fine! Don’t worry!’ I grumble, trying to stand up.
‘I’m sorry,’ she snorts, still hysterical. ‘But we’re only here two minutes and you’ve already done a Del Boy!’
I think back to that episode from Only Fools and Horses when Del Boy fell through the bar, and laugh despite trying to remain pissed off at her. Our grandad always made us watch with him whenever we visited. That’s what I remember when I think of him. Only Fools and Horses and the smell of cigars.
‘Okay, okay, that was kind of hilarious. For you.’ I glare at her. ‘It just shows that even the bar is broken. It looks like we’ll have to spend a lot of cash on just making this place habitable. And we haven’t even seen the living quarters yet.’
‘Quarters?’ She laughs, eyes dancing with amusement. ‘You make it sound like we’re being kept here against our will.’
‘Might as well be,’ I mumble under my breath.
‘Come on,’ she says cheerfully. ‘Let’s go explore.’
Behind the bar we find the toilets. The ladies has tiles missing and smells stagnant. I open every window I find. We don’t even dare go in the men’s. The stench from the door is enough to make us nearly pass out, so instead we run screaming into the kitchen.
It’s a good size, professional looking I guess. Industrial fryers, a thing to keep plates warm and three huge fridges. I daren’t look in them yet. I don’t have the courage. If I find a disintegrated cucumber from months ago I’ll vomit.
We walk from the kitchen into a back room which seems to be the only living space. More peeling speckled wallpaper and more damp patches. Great, just great.
We go up a steep staircase to the upstairs area. There’s two double bedrooms. The whole place is stuck in a time warp, seventies veneer furniture to match. Even the bed sheets are dusty. Thank god I insisted on buying sleeping bags at the airport. Women’s intuition my mum would call it.
There’s a separate toilet and the bathroom has bars on the window. Well, that’s safe. Not.
‘It’s not that bad.’ Ella smiles, throwing herself down on top of a bed. A dust storm swirls around her. Eww. She looks up, batting the dust away from her face as she coughs. ‘I take that back. It’s bad. It’s really bad.’
Chapter Three
Tuesday 18th August
I roll over and inhale a mouthful of dust. My eyes spring open as I cough, trying to free my burning lungs. Ugh, it wasn’t a nightmare. I’m still here. I push Ella, asleep peacefully in her sleeping bag next to mine, wanting her to wake and be upset like me.
‘What?’ she groans, eyes still closed. I don’t know why she’s so tired. She’s the one who snores like a walrus.
‘We need to get up and start working on this shit hole.’ I clutch at my head, just the idea of what we have to do giving me a headache.
‘Coffee,’ she growls. ‘I need a bucket of it.’
I whack her on the shoulder. ‘We’ve got nothing here, remember? Now get that arse up so we can try and salvage this disaster.’
An hour later we’re both dressed in our messy clothes and are attacking the living accommodation after finding a jar of still in date coffee granules. Great Aunt Breda must have been a coffee drinker. I already feel closer to her.
The way we