No.8
of administration stood on the quayside looking at the stone boat. He was soon
joined by one of the village’s senior citizens, No.66.
“A fine old vessel, sailed her many a
time.”
No.8 looked at the man wearing a
naval cap and red and black striped jersey who was standing next to him
“Really!”
“She’s good in any weather” the
ex-Admiral said with confidence.
“You don’t say” No.8 replied turning
his attention back to the stone boat.
Of course it was impossible to physically
sail the stone boat anywhere, being part of the quay as she was, despite the
black sail, and yet psychologically you could sail anywhere in her. And now the
more No.8 looked the more he could see wrong with the stone boat, she was
certainly beginning to show her age, and looked to be more than ready for restoration,
and a complete refit! Then he saw two workmen in dove grey overalls and peaked
caps, they were sitting on the starboard side of the stone boat having their
lunch.
“Oi, you two come here a minute.”
“What’s he want?” No.251 said looking
over his shoulder.
“That’s Number 8 of administration,
he’s always wanting something, and if its a minute he wants, its for job that
will take us all day!” No.215 replied.
“What do we do?”
“Better go and see what he wants I
suppose.”
“Right you two, what’s the game?”
No.8 asked.
“Game, me and my mate here were
having our lunch” 251 said.
“And our coffee’s getting cold” 215
added.
“Have you seen the state of the stone
boat?”
The two workmen turned round and gave
the boat the once over.
“Admittedly she could do with a coat
of paint” 251 said.
“And the bunting’s looking a bit on
the shabby side” 215 added.
“I want you two to organize a
complete refit of the stone boat.”
251 and 215 looked at each other.
“We can’t do that.”
“We can’t do that...sir” 215 agreed.
“And why not?” 8 asked.
“Because it has to go through the
works department first, then they hand the order down to our foreman in the form
of a work order, then the foreman hands the order down to us and tells us to
get on with it” 251 explained.
“And by the time that’s all done it
will be next week!”
“That’s right” 215 said.
“Well it’s not right!” No.8 said “all
this red tape!”
“The dinghy” No.8 said pointing at
the small white boat hanging from the starboard davits.
“What about it?” 251 asked.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing that a couple of new
straights won’t put right” 251 replied.
“Good” No.8 said turning on his heels
and striding away.
“Someone should have a word about
that one” 215 said.
“Yeah, but not right now, its still
lunchtime!”
A few days later the refit of the stone
boat began, under the close inspection of the ex-Admiral. Six men in dove grey
overalls were working on the vessel. The black sail and bunting had been
removed, and the mast, prow, and ships wheel had been removed. Carpenters got
to work on the fore cabin, main cabin, and stern cabin. Rotten wood was
removed, and the job made good. The stone hull was painted white, and black and
red made up the painted trim. A new mast was erected, and prow fixed in place.
The dinghy was taken down from the davits and removed to the workshop where two
new straights were fitted, and the dinghy given a fresh lick of paint before
taken back to the stone boat and re-hung from the davits. The ships wheel,
after refurbishment and a couple of coats of varnish was refitted to the helm.
More than that a new black sail, and fresh bunting fluttered in the breeze.
Then came the day when the stone boat would
be re-launched, and a celebration ceremony was organized much to the pleasure
of the ex-Admiral and his first officer No.1. The crowds gathered on the quay,
and above along the balustrade and on the lawn of the Old People’s Home. The
band played, people waved flags, and there was a genuine air of joy and
happiness. No.2 was in attendance and gave a short speech before smashing a
bottle of wine over the bow of the vessel. Also amongst the crowd was No.8, he
was looking for No.52, and then he found her. A woman about 28 years of age,
brunette hair, not tall, not short, she was quite attractive, and worked as a
hair dresser. But she had not been happy in the village; it was not as she
imagined it would be. No.8 had cultivated a friendship with Valerie. They sat
together in deckchairs by the bandstand.
“It must be tonight” he told her in a
quiet voice.
“I’m not sure” she said nervously.
“You said, you gave me your word, you
know I cannot manage it without you” he told her, trying not to sound
desperate.
“Alright, when?”
“Ten minutes after curfew. You
remember what I showed you about the door?”
“Yes.”
“And you still have the tinfoil?”
“Yes.”
“Good. I have gathered a few
supplies, and I have a compass.”
“Where did you get that from?”
“A friend, I showed interest in his
nautical collection in which he has several compasses, he’ll not miss one. So
are we set?”
“Yes.”
“Well meet in the Pink Pavilion, and
go down the steps from there.”
“What about the oars?”
“They’re already hidden at the back
of the waterfall. Don’t look so worried, try to be a little more nonchalant” he
told her.
“I don’t feel nonchalant” she told
him.
He smiled at a couple walking passed
“We had better go our separate ways, people are beginning to look.
“They think we are a couple.”
“Then perhaps we should walk a little
ways together before going our separate ways” he said taking her hand.
They walked together talking about
nothing in particular.
“Romance they make an attractive
couple wouldn’t you say” No.39 said watching the couple on the wall screen
“what are your views supervisor?”
“Romance? I’ve no time for it.”
“Dedicated to you work eh. I didn’t
think Number 8 was the type to let himself get involved.”
“Neither did I” replied the
supervisor.
“Should we tell No.2 of this
development?”
“It can do not harm.”
No.39 thought for a moment “Which is
it, they can do no harm, or it can do no harm telling Number 2?”
That night the maids came to turn down the
beds, and make nightcaps for the citizens, as they did every night. Except
tonight numbers 8 and 52 didn’t drink their nightcaps, sleep was the last thing
on their minds. Both had fixed the doors to their cottages with tinfoil, this
made the connection of the electronic lock, but prevented the actual locking of
the doors. It hadn’t been an easy thing to do, not with the surveillance
cameras.
Then the time came at 5 and twenty
minutes past the hour of curfew. At the same moment 8 and 52 under the cloak of
darkness opened their cottage doors and slipped out into the night. They
eventually rendezvoused at the Pink Pavilion, thus far unseen by the night-time
Observers. It was a dark night, there was no moon which made it perfect. No.8
led the way out of the Pavilion, then down the steps leading to the top of the
waterfall. At the bottom No.8 collected the pair of oars, taken from the
boathouse, which he had hidden behind the waterfall a few days earlier. There
was one obstacle, the searchlight on top of the tower!
“If we keep low” No.8 said “we’ll be
able to dodge the searchlight.”
It was touch and go, but once passed
the swimming pool it got easier to dodge the arc of the light. Having reached
the stone boat, No.8 placed the haversack containing their supplies into the
dinghy along with the pair of oars, and then he and No.52 worked together at
the davits to lower the dingy into the water. Suddenly the stone boat was lit
up by the searchlight crew on top of the tower, and three figures stood on the
quay.
“You surprise me Number 8 you really
do, to try something like this, I thought better of you” No.2 said.
No.8 realizing the game was up
secured the rope, and with No.52 crossed the deck of the boat and stepped onto
the quay.
“When?”
No.2 explained. “You became suspect
the moment you took it upon yourself to order the refitting of the stone boat,
admittedly she could have done with a lick of paint. Then I thought what
attracted you to the stone boat in the first place, what possible use could she
have for you....the dinghy! Two work men came across a pair of oars, quite by
accident when they were cleaning out the bottom of the waterfall. We left them
there quite on purpose to see who would come along and collect them.”
One of the two guardians stepped
forward.
“If you go with this gentleman my
dear” No.2 said in a courteous fashion.
“Where is he taking me?” 52 asked
with a feeling of trepidation.
“No need to worry my dear, he’ll take
you home that’s all” No.2 said reassuringly.
“And me, what is to be my fate?” No.8
dared ask.
“I suppose I can sympathize with you
Number 8, there comes a point when we all want nothing more than to escape. Take
him away.”
The second man in a black and red
striped jersey stepped forward and led No.8 away along the quay, the
searchlight crew returned to normal duties and No.2 to his bed. No.8 was taken
to another place, one known for the best treatment and therapy.
“Don’t worry Number 8, you’ll soon
know peace of mind.”
Be seeing you
For an
alternate ending scroll down È
Then the time came at 5 and twenty
minutes past the hour of curfew. At the same moment 8 and 52 under the cloak of
darkness opened their cottage doors and slipped out into the night. They
eventually rendezvoused at the Pink Pavilion, thus far unseen by the night-time
Observers. It was a dark night, there was no moon which made it perfect. No.8
led the way out of the Pavilion, then down the steps leading to the top of the
waterfall. At the bottom No.8 collected the pair of oars, taken from the
boathouse, which he had hidden behind the waterfall a few days earlier. There
was one obstacle, the searchlight on top of the tower!
“If we keep low” No.8 said “we’ll be
able to dodge the searchlight.”
It was touch and go, but once passed
the swimming pool it got easier to dodge the arc of the light. Having reached
the stone boat, No.8 placed the haversack containing their supplies into the
dinghy along with the pair of oars, and then he and No.52 worked together at
the davits to lower the dingy into the water. Then descending down the ropes
they managed to get into the dinghy with No.8 taking the oars he began to row
away from the stone boat, away from the village. They kept as close to the
shore as they could, making it passed the furthermost cottage and out into the
night, now out of range of the searchlight, with the cliffs to starboard, and
the wide estuary to port.
The next morning No.2 awaited the arrival
of his assistant No.8, when he didn’t turn up he telephoned 8 Private.
Surveillance cameras showed No.8 was not at home. Contacting the control room
he spoke to the supervisor.
“Supervisor Number 8 isn’t in his
cottage, he may be in the Town Hall, find him.”
“Yes sir. It’s been reported that the
dinghy is missing from its davits on the stone boat, and Number 52 has failed
to turn up for work at the cafe.”
“Yellow alert!” No.2 ordered.
The supervisor picked up the yellow
‘L’ shaped telephone, “All units, all posts yellow alert, yellow alert.”
Later that morning...........
The supervisor picked up the yellow
telephone “Put me through to Number 2.”
In his office the yellow telephone
began to bleep, he picked it up “Yes.”
“Supervisor here sir, the crew of M.
S. Polotska report they have found the dinghy, abandoned and drifting in the
mouth of the estuary.”
No.2 put the telephone down, and
instantly the curved, over-sized red shaped telephone began to bleep
impatiently, as through the woods beyond the outer zone, two figures made their
way across country in a north easterly direction.
Be
seeing you
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