maybe, but no people. Just a few. The houses are nearly all empty.’
‘Like this,’ Stratton pointed out, holding on to his frustration.
‘No. The houses in my viewing have been empty for a long time.’
‘Was it an ancient town like Pompeii?’ Stratton asked.
‘No. That’s too far back. The houses still stand but many are in ruin. Walls collapsed. No windows or doors. Overgrown.’
Stratton tried to think of any town destroyed by a natural disaster, or chemical or radiation attack which was still empty but nothing came to mind.
‘I wish I could draw it for you,’ Gabriel sighed, ‘But I can’t. All I can say is this place doesn’t fit what I saw.’ He looked away as if he did not want to think about it any more.
Stratton thought about reporting back to Sumners. Perhaps the boffins could draw up a list of possible towns for them to check out, or at least get pictures of to show Gabriel and save some travelling. He wondered why they had not done that in the first place.
‘You hungry?’ Stratton asked him, trying to think of something to help ease the tension he could feel rising in Gabriel.
‘I haven’t been very hungry lately . . . I don’t think you realise how serious this is.’
Gabriel was right. Stratton did not.
‘We’re running out of time. Each day he gets closer to his goal, whatever or wherever that is; he pushes relentlessly towards it.’
He could feel the change in Gabriel. Back in London and Thetford he was tired and frustrated, but now he looked more drawn, weaker and sounded much more desperate.
A man sipping a hot drink from a mug stepped from a shop nearby and looked at them.
‘Hello,’ he said in a charming manner. ‘Can I help you?’
Stratton turned to him. He was middle-aged, small, comfortably dressed and as harmless looking as he sounded.
‘You are English,’ he said confidently, then, when Stratton did not answer immediately, he looked unsure. ‘Françoise? German? My Dutch is not so good.’
‘English,’ Stratton said.
‘Ah. I thought so. I am rarely wrong. I am Cristos,’ he continued, remaining in his doorway with his free hand casually in his pocket. ‘This is my travel shop. If you need anything: car, boat, flight, hotel, I can help you.’
Stratton thought about asking him for a hotel, but he was habitually untrusting of strangers and liked to find his own accommodation, especially when on the ground himself. ‘We’re fine, thanks.’
‘Looks like a storm is coming,’ Cristos said.‘Maybe tonight. A good time to find a cosy restaurant with a log fire and a nice bottle of wine.’
Stratton could go along with that suggestion, although he doubted it was what Gabriel had in mind.
‘You look like you have just arrived . . . Would you like some tea or coffee?’
Stratton considered the offer. A cuppa would be nice and there wasn’t a café open in the immediate area. He looked over at Gabriel who was staring at the battlements and the rooftops, shaking his head, compounding his belief this was not the place.
‘Gabriel? Cup of tea? We need to take a moment to consider our next move.’
Gabriel looked at him, thought on it a few seconds and nodded his head.
Stratton looked back at Cristos with a smile. ‘Tea would be great, thanks.’
Cristos beamed. ‘Come in, come in,’ he beckoned and stepped inside his shop.
The travel shop was long and narrow, and covered with posters displaying inviting beaches, advertisements for boat trips, maps, charts and souvenirs. Cristos was standing by a little table where there were half a dozen mugs and an electric kettle.
‘Come in,’ Cristos said.‘How do you like your tea?’
‘Milk, one sugar,’ Stratton said.
‘And you?’ he said to Gabriel.
‘Black no sugar.’
‘Ah. American, no?’
Gabriel acknowledged it with a forced smile.
‘Please. Sit,’ Cristos said.
A row of chairs extended from the door to the back of the shop, intended for people waiting to make bookings.
Stratton and Gabriel studied the premises. One wall was practically covered with postcards from satisfied customers from all over the world.
‘If you don’t mind me saying, you looked a bit lost outside.’
‘Not lost.We were expecting to meet some friends but it seems no one else has turned up.’
Cristos nodded understandingly as he handed them a hot mug each. ‘Are you planning on staying long?’
‘No. Just passing through,’ Stratton said as he sipped his tea. It tasted good. ‘Nice cuppa.’
‘Where are you off to next?’
‘Not sure.’
‘If you need transport, you are in the right place.’
‘We certainly are,’ Stratton said, smiling politely.
Gabriel sat down and nursed his tea