Read Online Fall From Grace by David Ashton - Free Book Online

quayside, screeching up into the damp, cold heavens.
    ‘Ye’re getting very snifty, Mulholland, too much genteelity has that effect. Now let’s get on with this case and leave romance where it belongs – on the shelf!’
    One of the provoked gulls settled on the cross spar of a sailing ship, shortly bound for Copenhagen with a cargo of jute yarn.
    Jute held no interest for the seagull. It lifted a sharp yellow beak and through beady eyes, watched the figures of the two men as they disappeared out of the November chill into the warmth of the tavern.
    Then a far-off skirl of birds brought its head spinning round. In the distance a fishing boat was coming towards the harbour, followed by a mixed flock of terns, razorbills and herring gulls. They were feeding on the scraps thrown from the boat by the men already at work, gutting the fish and throwing the slimy innards back into the sea. Often these same men would stick a hook on a line inside the guts they cast to the wind and then haul the bird in by its bloody mouth.
    A cruel sport. But it is a cruel world.
    The gull wheeled off into the sky, in the direction of the noisy squabbling flock.
    Feeding time.

10

It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice.
SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE, Kubla Khan
 

    Jean Brash looked out of the window of her bawdy-hoose, and was conscious of a melting uneasy feeling in her heart.
    Below, she could see Hannah Semple, her strong right hand and keeper of the keys of the Just Land, hanging out some of the sheets on the line with one of the girls.
    This afternoon the weather had lifted a little with a stiff breeze finding its way up the hill, and Hannah was a demon for airing the bed linen even in November. It was her belief that the clients appreciated a whiff of cleanliness before sinking into the debauchery of their choice.
    Jean had no strong opinion on this; in her experience, some liked to be enveloped in the musky odour of sin and any hint of otherwise set them looking anxiously around in case their lawful wife was somewhere in the vicinity.
    Perhaps lying rigid under the bed, hands clasped prayerfully together, ready to slide out as if on wheels and confront the miscreant in the throes of his illicit libidinous pleasures.
    The image amused her for a moment then the uneasy seasick undulations of emotion, tugging at her from under like drowning waves, brought Jean Brash to an inescapable, deep and undesired conclusion.
    It would seem her affection had become fixed upon another. Her lover. Hopefully he had not noticed an older woman’s infatuation; young men can often be trusted on that score. They rise and leave without a backward glance.
    Yet she had set down the rules of engagement. It was to be purely for the enjoyment of the senses, concupiscence and champagne, fleshly abandon. All the easy virtues.
    Something had changed however. It would seem she had lost part of herself to someone else. Now, in his absence, she felt herself incomplete, lacking hold, an emptiness in the breadbasket. Damnation.
    Where was he now? What other trysts? She did not know and could not ask within the rules. The pair were to operate freely, and Jean was caught in a web of her own making.
    Self-trammelled.
    Once before in her life, she had suffered such a passage. A tainted oyster. She had swallowed it down, with a deal of relish. It had taken months to recover.
    The comparison brought some much-needed humour to the situation. With luck it would pass.
    As McLevy often said. ‘ You aye need luck .’
    My God, if he knew that she was sick in love, he would spit out the coffee and die laughing.
    He hadn’t been round to scrounge a cup for a while, and she missed his perverse company. Possibly just as well, however, not be under that evil scrutiny.
    Jean looked out of the corner of her eye and found her image peeking back from one of many mirrors that adorned her boudoir.
    This was her refuge. On a recent whim, the curtains and hangings