Escape from Shangri-La Read Free

keeps it down at the marina. We went all the way down the coast, didn’t we, Mum? Dartmouth or somewhere. Bit rough, but it was great.’
    â€˜Nothing like it,’ he said, nodding away. ‘Nothing like the sea. “I must go down to the sea again, to the lonely sea and the sky . . .” you know that poem, do you? Not true, of course. You’re never lonely at sea. It’s people that make you feel lonely, don’t you think? You like poetry, do you? Always liked poems, I have. I’ve got dozens of them up here in my head.’
    My mother spoke up suddenly: ‘How did you know where to find us? How did you know?’
    â€˜It was luck, just luck. It wasn’t as if I was looking for him. It just happened. I was at home, a couple of weeks ago, and I had the radio on. Had it on for the weather, matter of fact. I always listen to the weather. I heard him, on that programme he does in the mornings. I didn’t recognise his voice of course, but there was something about how he said what he said that I had to listen to. And then I heard his name. “Arthur Stevens’Morning Chat”, they called it. I’m not a fool. I knew well enough there was likely to be more than one Arthur Stevens in the world, I knew that. But I just had this feeling, like it was a meant-to-be thing. Do you understand what I’m saying? It was like we were supposed to meet up again after all this time.
    â€˜So, the same afternoon it was, I went and had a look. I walked right in the front door of the radio station. And there he was, larger than life up on the wall, a huge great smiling poster of him. I took one look and, I’m telling you, I didn’t have to read the signature across the bottom. It was him. Same big ears, same cheeky smile, same little Arthur. Just fifty years older, that’s all. Couldn’t mistake him. And then, whilst I was standing there looking up at him, he comes right past me, close enough I could’ve reached out and touched him. And I wanted to, believe me I wanted to; but I couldn’t, I didn’t dare. Then he was gone out of the door and it was too late.’
    He swept the biscuit crumbs up into a little pile with his finger, and went on. ‘Anyway, after that I came over all giddy in the head. I get that from time to time. I had to sit down to steady myself, and there was this young lady at the desk who helped me. She was nice too. She brought me a glass of water. I reckon shewas a bit worried about me. After a bit, we got talking, her and me. I asked her about Arthur and she told me all about him – and about the two of you as well. She said how good he is to work with, how he cares about what he does. “Never stops,” she said. “Works himself to a frazzle.” She told me about all the shows he does, how they phone in with all their cares and woes, and how he talks to them and makes them feel better about themselves. “You should listen in some time,” she said. So I did. I’ve heard every one of his programmes ever since – never missed. Not once. Plays my kind of music too.’
    He was looking at us hard. ‘I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking I’m maybe a bit crazed in the head, a bit barmy. Well, maybe I am at that. Maybe I shouldn’t have come at all. I’ve got no business being here, I suppose, not really, not after all these years.’ His eyes were welling with tears. ‘It was an agreement, a sort of understanding, between Arthur’s mother and me. Don’t get me wrong. I don’t blame her – I wasn’t much good to her, I know that now. One day she just said she’d had enough. She was leaving and she was taking young Arthur with her. She wanted a fresh start, she said. There was this other man – these things happen. Anyway it wasn’t nasty, nothing like that. It’dbe best all round if I stayed out of it, she said, best for the boy.