Such Is Death Read Free Page A

man.
    â€œThere. Isn’t it a nuisance when you want to call someone and there’s no answer? Still, you can try again later, can’t you? You staying long?”
    â€œI don’t know yet.”
    â€œIt’s a bit quiet this time of year. I mean, look at the weather. You can’t expect people to come to the seaside when it’s like this. It’s not raining though, is it? Just dark and blowy. Still, you’re all right. You’re staying in the hotel. You haven’t got to go out in it.”
    â€œWho says I haven’t?” he asked rather fiercely.
    â€œWell of course I don’t know. I only thought that as you were staying in the hotel …”
    â€œGive me another Scotch.”
    Doris seemed subdued for a moment as she served him.
    It was the man who spoke again.
    â€œI’ve got business to attend to here,” he said.
    â€œI thought you must have,” said Doris. “No one comes much in the winter otherwise.”
    The man’s large eyes, which had an expression of resentment but of anxiety or even fear too, watched Doris fixedly, but she thought they showed a certain glazed haziness. The whisky so steadily swallowed was beginning to have its effect. When he next spoke he used a surprising phrase.
    â€œI’m presumed dead,” he said.
    Doris tried a startled giggle.
    â€œWhatever do you mean?” she asked. “You’re alive enough.”
    â€œPresumed
dead,” said the man impatiently. “Have been for years though I did not know it. How would you like to be presumed dead?”
    â€œI don’t know what you mean,” said Doris uncomfortably.
    â€œWhen nothing’s heard of you after a time your family can consider you a dead man. That’s what I mean. I’ve been a dead man for years. Now I’m coming to life again.”
    â€œThat’s a funny way to talk,” said Doris.
    â€œI’ll tell you something else,” said the man. “There’s more than one in this town who won’t be at all pleasedat my resurrection.” A very unpleasant smile appeared on his face. “They won’t be at all pleased.”
    â€œDo you know it well?” asked Doris, aiming at normal talk. “Selby-on-Sea, I mean?”
    â€œNever been here before in my life,” said the man, motioning to show he wanted yet another whisky. “But I’ve … blood ties with it, you might say.”
    â€œYou do say funny things,” said Doris, looking anything but amused.
    â€œAnd I do funny things, too,” the man told her. “Especially to those who do funny things to me.”
    He moved away from the counter and Doris watched him find a place in a far corner of the room.
    â€œHe gives me the creeps,” she confided to Vivienne. “I don’t know what he’s on about half the time, death and resurrection and that.”
    â€œReligious, perhaps,” said Vivienne indifferently as she served a small gin-and-pep.
    â€œIt’s not that,” said Doris. “Presumed dead, was what he told me and now he’s come to life again. He says some won’t be pleased at that, and I don’t wonder.”
    â€œMmmm,” agreed Vivienne absently on two notes.
    â€œWhen George comes in to do the fire I’m going to ask him to see what name that fellow’s given in the hall. Sounded so funny about people in the town not being pleased to see him. I’d like to know who he is.”
    George duly appeared at nine o’clock and was sent on his mission. He came back to tell Doris that the new guest’s name was Ernest Rafter.
    â€œCan’t say I’ve ever heard it,” Doris regretfully told Vivienne. “It’s not one of the regular customers anyway. That’s not saying it isn’t known in the town, though.”
    Vivienne somehow thought she’d heard the name but couldn’t remember where. She did not sound interested.
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