prodding and slapping until he had to admit defeat and climb in. The dip seemed even colder than the sea.
A large, oblong block of carbolic soap hit him squarely on the forehead. The boss-lady’s mood seemed to have improved as she stood tittering away, clearly pleased with her well-aimed shot and highly amused by the sight of him standing dithering in a sheep dip. Then the shouting started again. One minute she was congratulating herself on her perfect aim, and the next she was screaming what, he could only assume, meant ‘wash, wash, wash!’
He scrubbed and scrubbed until he was certain, he knew for sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was finally, spotlessly, thoroughly clean. So, after a final rinse, he climbed out and waited once more for the old crow’s approval. She sauntered over and began sniffing him again. She gave him a thorough inspection, lifting his arms and checking behind his ears. Then, though she continued gabbling on and on, she actually nodded and smiled. He could hardly believe it.
‘Have I passed inspection now?’ He looked across to Steve.
‘Yep, and you can go into the house for a proper bath. She says so.’
The old lady cast her eye over Darren for a moment. Then, taking him by the hand as she would a child, she led him into the derelict-looking old farmhouse and up to her bathroom. She opened the door, whilst still holding his hand, and he stood rigid as his mouth dropped wide open. Staring into the room Darren was stunned. Here, in the middle of nowhere, in a rickety, old, seemingly falling to bits and dilapidated farmhouse, he was gazing on a bathroom fit for a king. It simply oozed luxury. The huge sunken oval bath was filled to the brim with steaming, foamy water. The floor was tiled with marble in an intricate pattern of wild flowers, and the fittings looked as if they might be real gold. Pushing him towards the bath, the old dear smiled again and said something else he couldn’t work out. Then she handed him another bar of soap, which was a great improvement on having one thrown at him – and this one smelled nice too. She offered him a few more words in her very foreign voice, blew a quick kiss, winked and left.
He eased himself down into the scalding hot water. Sitting and relaxing in the sweet smelling bubble bath felt really good after being cooped up for so long. He closed his eyes and slowly ducked his head below the surface. When he came up again he sighed and started softly singing a few lines of “A Wild Colonial Boy.” After his escape from the cold transport yard in Kinsale, a swim in the frigid sea and the freezing sheep dip, this bath felt like Heaven.
He had been soaking for around half an hour when a knock came to the door. Darren opened his eyes and shouted for the visitor to come in. The old girl was back again. She stood at the doorway with a huge white towel, a pile of clothes and a friendly smile on her wizened old face. She said something else he couldn’t understand, put down the towel and clothes, and left again. He took a much-needed shave, doused himself in loads of fresh smelling deodorant and aftershave, dressed and left the bathroom.
He was out in the main hallway and he could hear voices. Following the sounds he eventually ended up at the doorway of a large dining room. Looking around the lavishly furnished room he saw the old woman seated with her family, and Steve. As he entered, the chatting stopped as they all stared at him.
‘Jesus, you look better. Now come on, hurry up, we’re all waiting to eat,’ Steve told him.
Darren took his seat at the far end of the antique dining table and listened to the conversation going on around him. ‘Where the fuck am I?’ he asked in confusion. ‘I thought you said you were taking me to Spain?’
‘You are in Spain,’ Steve confirmed.
‘Well, if I’m in Spain, how come I can’t understand a single word anyone says then? I speak Spanish well enough, and that ain’t like any fucking
A large, oblong block of carbolic soap hit him squarely on the forehead. The boss-lady’s mood seemed to have improved as she stood tittering away, clearly pleased with her well-aimed shot and highly amused by the sight of him standing dithering in a sheep dip. Then the shouting started again. One minute she was congratulating herself on her perfect aim, and the next she was screaming what, he could only assume, meant ‘wash, wash, wash!’
He scrubbed and scrubbed until he was certain, he knew for sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was finally, spotlessly, thoroughly clean. So, after a final rinse, he climbed out and waited once more for the old crow’s approval. She sauntered over and began sniffing him again. She gave him a thorough inspection, lifting his arms and checking behind his ears. Then, though she continued gabbling on and on, she actually nodded and smiled. He could hardly believe it.
‘Have I passed inspection now?’ He looked across to Steve.
‘Yep, and you can go into the house for a proper bath. She says so.’
The old lady cast her eye over Darren for a moment. Then, taking him by the hand as she would a child, she led him into the derelict-looking old farmhouse and up to her bathroom. She opened the door, whilst still holding his hand, and he stood rigid as his mouth dropped wide open. Staring into the room Darren was stunned. Here, in the middle of nowhere, in a rickety, old, seemingly falling to bits and dilapidated farmhouse, he was gazing on a bathroom fit for a king. It simply oozed luxury. The huge sunken oval bath was filled to the brim with steaming, foamy water. The floor was tiled with marble in an intricate pattern of wild flowers, and the fittings looked as if they might be real gold. Pushing him towards the bath, the old dear smiled again and said something else he couldn’t work out. Then she handed him another bar of soap, which was a great improvement on having one thrown at him – and this one smelled nice too. She offered him a few more words in her very foreign voice, blew a quick kiss, winked and left.
He eased himself down into the scalding hot water. Sitting and relaxing in the sweet smelling bubble bath felt really good after being cooped up for so long. He closed his eyes and slowly ducked his head below the surface. When he came up again he sighed and started softly singing a few lines of “A Wild Colonial Boy.” After his escape from the cold transport yard in Kinsale, a swim in the frigid sea and the freezing sheep dip, this bath felt like Heaven.
He had been soaking for around half an hour when a knock came to the door. Darren opened his eyes and shouted for the visitor to come in. The old girl was back again. She stood at the doorway with a huge white towel, a pile of clothes and a friendly smile on her wizened old face. She said something else he couldn’t understand, put down the towel and clothes, and left again. He took a much-needed shave, doused himself in loads of fresh smelling deodorant and aftershave, dressed and left the bathroom.
He was out in the main hallway and he could hear voices. Following the sounds he eventually ended up at the doorway of a large dining room. Looking around the lavishly furnished room he saw the old woman seated with her family, and Steve. As he entered, the chatting stopped as they all stared at him.
‘Jesus, you look better. Now come on, hurry up, we’re all waiting to eat,’ Steve told him.
Darren took his seat at the far end of the antique dining table and listened to the conversation going on around him. ‘Where the fuck am I?’ he asked in confusion. ‘I thought you said you were taking me to Spain?’
‘You are in Spain,’ Steve confirmed.
‘Well, if I’m in Spain, how come I can’t understand a single word anyone says then? I speak Spanish well enough, and that ain’t like any fucking
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