Everything I Found on the Beach Read Online Free Page A
Author: Cynan Jones
pressure days away from here. He could feel that there was great power and swell in the sea, though it was calm out on the water,and the lifting of the waves at the shore had the power of a prowling animal about it, and some male thing, like someone who hopes someone will fight them.
He took a long drink of clean water and cut a sliver off one of the fillets and chewed the virile and strong raw flesh and counted in his head, as he chewed, the likely take from the dayâs catch.
He got a percentage of the price of the fish at sale and a flat rate every time he took the boat out. The owner covered all the costs and handled the license and never came out on the boat.
After getting fired from the fish factory, Hold had looked into trying to set up on his own boat, but the sums were simply too big. It was getting started, that was the thing. If you didnât have anything you just couldnât start up.
Heâd made the right choice with the factory. It would have been worse if Danny had gone. He was always a joker. That kind of thing came with his basic sense of adventure and it wasnât the first time Hold had taken the fall for him. But Danny had the wife and family. There was a lot of seasonal stuff about, but work wasnât easy round here. It was better that Hold took the hit.
He gave up the bedsit and moved into the trailer. That suited, with the work they were trying to get done on the house. Cara was furious with Danny for letting Hold take the fall, but what could you do? You couldnât get that furious with Danny, you never could.
He thought of it and smiled even now. There was an energy and hurry always as they loaded the trays of crabs onto the racks for the blast freezer, a compulsive clonking sound to the cooked pasty-like shells knocking together as they handled the crabs, a fresh baity smell. It was crazy work and it could easily breed a silliness and it was just one of those moments Danny was prone to.
When the guy came out of the blast freezer he was frosted, like heâd been dipped in wet sugar. He could hardly move. Funny as it was, it could have killed him. His apron had been blasted out and stood solid, straight out like a shelf in front of him. That set the men off.
When the supervisor arrived it was pretty inevitable. The guys were still laughing, some of them uncontrollably. It was the apron. They just couldnât get over that.
âWho was it?â
âIt was me,â Hold had said. That was that. But he laughed about it even now. âThat was Danny,â he thought. âI couldnât have let him lose his job.â
After that he worked for two years in the cheese factory in the valley, and took the shift work that came with it and the pay, which was good for the area. But it was futile, monotonous work that seemed to be nothing but moving cheese around. Not many people lasted long at it. Workâs work, he had told himself, trying to get through it, setting up little purposes, timescales, the tricks we play on ourselves to get through things. But Danny dying had been a wake-up call, and he just couldnât do it anymore.He couldnât pretend that he was going to work there in that way for years and save money then buy a boat that he could take out and make a little money on, fishing or taking out trips. Anything could take you. He knew that now. And he wouldnât do things he could see no value in or not get something back from. He looked at the knife that his friend had given him and he looked at it still in his hand and smiled at the thought of the apron again. The money he had was not very much. That was that. But he could cope with the things he did to get it.
He could hear the cattle lowing through the walls, this strange muted sound from the sheds where the vets rhythmically checked the animals, seemingly calm and oblivious. From home, Grzegorz knew how the smell would be in there. How the warm, manurey smell of cattle would be different to
He took a long drink of clean water and cut a sliver off one of the fillets and chewed the virile and strong raw flesh and counted in his head, as he chewed, the likely take from the dayâs catch.
He got a percentage of the price of the fish at sale and a flat rate every time he took the boat out. The owner covered all the costs and handled the license and never came out on the boat.
After getting fired from the fish factory, Hold had looked into trying to set up on his own boat, but the sums were simply too big. It was getting started, that was the thing. If you didnât have anything you just couldnât start up.
Heâd made the right choice with the factory. It would have been worse if Danny had gone. He was always a joker. That kind of thing came with his basic sense of adventure and it wasnât the first time Hold had taken the fall for him. But Danny had the wife and family. There was a lot of seasonal stuff about, but work wasnât easy round here. It was better that Hold took the hit.
He gave up the bedsit and moved into the trailer. That suited, with the work they were trying to get done on the house. Cara was furious with Danny for letting Hold take the fall, but what could you do? You couldnât get that furious with Danny, you never could.
He thought of it and smiled even now. There was an energy and hurry always as they loaded the trays of crabs onto the racks for the blast freezer, a compulsive clonking sound to the cooked pasty-like shells knocking together as they handled the crabs, a fresh baity smell. It was crazy work and it could easily breed a silliness and it was just one of those moments Danny was prone to.
When the guy came out of the blast freezer he was frosted, like heâd been dipped in wet sugar. He could hardly move. Funny as it was, it could have killed him. His apron had been blasted out and stood solid, straight out like a shelf in front of him. That set the men off.
When the supervisor arrived it was pretty inevitable. The guys were still laughing, some of them uncontrollably. It was the apron. They just couldnât get over that.
âWho was it?â
âIt was me,â Hold had said. That was that. But he laughed about it even now. âThat was Danny,â he thought. âI couldnât have let him lose his job.â
After that he worked for two years in the cheese factory in the valley, and took the shift work that came with it and the pay, which was good for the area. But it was futile, monotonous work that seemed to be nothing but moving cheese around. Not many people lasted long at it. Workâs work, he had told himself, trying to get through it, setting up little purposes, timescales, the tricks we play on ourselves to get through things. But Danny dying had been a wake-up call, and he just couldnât do it anymore.He couldnât pretend that he was going to work there in that way for years and save money then buy a boat that he could take out and make a little money on, fishing or taking out trips. Anything could take you. He knew that now. And he wouldnât do things he could see no value in or not get something back from. He looked at the knife that his friend had given him and he looked at it still in his hand and smiled at the thought of the apron again. The money he had was not very much. That was that. But he could cope with the things he did to get it.
He could hear the cattle lowing through the walls, this strange muted sound from the sheds where the vets rhythmically checked the animals, seemingly calm and oblivious. From home, Grzegorz knew how the smell would be in there. How the warm, manurey smell of cattle would be different to
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