Any Survivors (2008) Read Online Free
bliss that my 5 d would buy, regardless of what the waiters thought of me. And who knows, I thought; they might even play La Bohème or Butterfly .
It was not possible to remain invisible. The waiters were already attempting to take my order, approaching me from all possible sides. Finally I had to acknowledge their presence. I took the menu as if I had never looked at it before. It was a smallish leather-bound booklet with multicoloured print. I explained to him that I needed more time. My English was improving. He seemed to understand and left me in peace to make my choice.
There were two pennies on the table which I could have swiped without anyone noticing. My assets would have increased to 7 d ; enough for a proper meal of bread and butter, for example, with two sardines or bangers and mash or even soup and an egg. However, 5 d did not yield quite as much. I could not bring myself to order a mere cup of tea when water would do just as well to quench my thirst. The waiter returned. I pointed to the 2 d , for I was and wanted to remain, an honest man. He seemed to misunderstand and disappeared, reappearing with a fresh tablecloth. A few practised movements and the old tablecloth, by no means pristine, was gone and replaced by a new one. He then removed the 2 d from under my eyes. I could hear the rattling in his pockets and the coins were gone. It was time for me to order. It was a good thing my hearing was what it was. ‘Chicken liver is out,’ I heard another waiter say. Perhaps my waiter had not been into the kitchen for a while. I ordered the liver; he noted it and went off. Another fifteen minutes of paradise passed. The band still did not play La Bohème or Butterfly but We’re Going to Hang out the Washing on the Siegfried Line , not a piece I particularly enjoyed but I tried to memorise it because I thought it might work well on the flute. I tried with little success to ignore two gentlemen and a lady behind me who were speaking loudly and unabashedly in German. But they were beginning to interest me. To turn around and stare at them would have been impolite and was unnecessary. I could observe their table in one of the many mirrors if I looked straight ahead. Admittedly, I could only see them the wrong way around. There was a young man with broad shoulders and a smart haircut, a greying older gentleman and a younger lady with platinum-blonde hair. They must have had a few drinks before they came in because they were definitely in ‘high spirits’, but here they were only drinking coffee. Finally the band finished We’re Going to Hang out the Washing and was silent. I could now hear every word they were saying and paid full attention.
‘How much have we earned all in?’ asked a bass voice, probably the greying man.
‘I haven't counted it,’ replied the metallic tenor voice, undoubtedly belonging to the young man with the mass of hair. ‘Here,’ he was beating his breast pocket. ‘You can hear the rustling noise. Loads of £10 notes. And the timing was perfect! If the war had broken out twenty-four hours later I would have lost it all to the Portuguese agent who disappeared to South America. Poor German bigwig in Berlin! I can see him now, tears rolling down his fat cheeks. But I don't dare let the money out of the country. Rather than risk coming into conflict with the Defence Finance Regulations I'd prefer to waste it and drink on my own. I mean with you guys, ha ha!’ He was sounding merrier by the minute.
‘Leo,’ said the man with the deeper voice. ‘I hardly recognise you, pull yourself together. Yes, it is an achievement to receive a handsome sum in English currency as a result of the outbreak of war, and I have no sympathy with the German bigwig. But that's no reason to lose control of yourself like this!’
‘Oh, you and your self-control, Herr Doktor ,’ the girl squealed. She probably hadn't had the most to drink but seemed to tolerate the least. She also had a rather off-putting
It was not possible to remain invisible. The waiters were already attempting to take my order, approaching me from all possible sides. Finally I had to acknowledge their presence. I took the menu as if I had never looked at it before. It was a smallish leather-bound booklet with multicoloured print. I explained to him that I needed more time. My English was improving. He seemed to understand and left me in peace to make my choice.
There were two pennies on the table which I could have swiped without anyone noticing. My assets would have increased to 7 d ; enough for a proper meal of bread and butter, for example, with two sardines or bangers and mash or even soup and an egg. However, 5 d did not yield quite as much. I could not bring myself to order a mere cup of tea when water would do just as well to quench my thirst. The waiter returned. I pointed to the 2 d , for I was and wanted to remain, an honest man. He seemed to misunderstand and disappeared, reappearing with a fresh tablecloth. A few practised movements and the old tablecloth, by no means pristine, was gone and replaced by a new one. He then removed the 2 d from under my eyes. I could hear the rattling in his pockets and the coins were gone. It was time for me to order. It was a good thing my hearing was what it was. ‘Chicken liver is out,’ I heard another waiter say. Perhaps my waiter had not been into the kitchen for a while. I ordered the liver; he noted it and went off. Another fifteen minutes of paradise passed. The band still did not play La Bohème or Butterfly but We’re Going to Hang out the Washing on the Siegfried Line , not a piece I particularly enjoyed but I tried to memorise it because I thought it might work well on the flute. I tried with little success to ignore two gentlemen and a lady behind me who were speaking loudly and unabashedly in German. But they were beginning to interest me. To turn around and stare at them would have been impolite and was unnecessary. I could observe their table in one of the many mirrors if I looked straight ahead. Admittedly, I could only see them the wrong way around. There was a young man with broad shoulders and a smart haircut, a greying older gentleman and a younger lady with platinum-blonde hair. They must have had a few drinks before they came in because they were definitely in ‘high spirits’, but here they were only drinking coffee. Finally the band finished We’re Going to Hang out the Washing and was silent. I could now hear every word they were saying and paid full attention.
‘How much have we earned all in?’ asked a bass voice, probably the greying man.
‘I haven't counted it,’ replied the metallic tenor voice, undoubtedly belonging to the young man with the mass of hair. ‘Here,’ he was beating his breast pocket. ‘You can hear the rustling noise. Loads of £10 notes. And the timing was perfect! If the war had broken out twenty-four hours later I would have lost it all to the Portuguese agent who disappeared to South America. Poor German bigwig in Berlin! I can see him now, tears rolling down his fat cheeks. But I don't dare let the money out of the country. Rather than risk coming into conflict with the Defence Finance Regulations I'd prefer to waste it and drink on my own. I mean with you guys, ha ha!’ He was sounding merrier by the minute.
‘Leo,’ said the man with the deeper voice. ‘I hardly recognise you, pull yourself together. Yes, it is an achievement to receive a handsome sum in English currency as a result of the outbreak of war, and I have no sympathy with the German bigwig. But that's no reason to lose control of yourself like this!’
‘Oh, you and your self-control, Herr Doktor ,’ the girl squealed. She probably hadn't had the most to drink but seemed to tolerate the least. She also had a rather off-putting
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