Yours Is The Only Ocean

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

It was Miles' first venture into Narwen, and he was enjoying the attention. Already some of the local men who recognised him from The Cornerstone were tipping their hats and nodding hello. Miles knew he stood out in this drab village, with his huge black leather coat billowing in the October winds, the clip clip of his boots sounding on the cobbles. He had just come from the barbers, where his mop of dark, unruly hair had been cut into a Bedford cop, the most fashionable cut for men at the time. The ladies certainly seemed to appreciate it. Those he passed threw him admiring glances, then blushed and giggled when he winked at them.

His destination was The Rusty Hook, the pub where all the local farmers had their lunchtime vittels. Miles needed someone to move his rum from the cove to The Parrots Beak in Lunar Bay. A farmer would be the perfect cover, but he needed someone with a clean record, and Tom had given him the names of a few men to avoid because they would alert the patrols straight away, due to their previous behaviour.

It seemed everyone stopped talking the moment he walked into the large pub. Unlike The Cornerstone, where all and sundry were welcome, this was a place for locals only. Not that Miles cared – not many people dared challenge him. He went to the bar and ordered a pint of ale, and he found a spot at the end of a table occupied by a group of strapping young men enjoying some bread and cheese and sipping ale. They all glanced at Miles, then at each other, and carried on talking, but more quietly, no doubt suspicious of who he was.

There was a girl walking round collecting mugs and plates. She was a short, olive skinned girl who stood out from the pasty-faced locals. She looked at Miles under hooded lids and smiled coyly.

"'ain't seen you round 'ere before 'andsome," she said.

"I'm just stopping by for a while. Boat got stuck on some rocks, ripped a gash in her. Soon as she's done I'm off to the West Indies." Miles wrapped his arm around her slim waist and pulled her to him. "Fancy being me shipmate?"

"I'll be anything you want," she giggled.

"Ahhhh, what about me, Hannah?" one of the other lads joked.

"You come back when you're 'andosme as....."

"Captain Kane."

"You come back when you're as 'andsome as Captain Kane and I might consider you."

Miles laughed and let her go, and she wandered off round the other tables, flirting and laughing, like a female version of Kitten. She'd helped him break the ice with the men, and the man opposite him dared to speak.

"So, where you come in from?" he asked, ripping apart a bit of crusty bread with his filthy hands.

"Portugal. Before that I was in Jamaica. America before that."

"I'd love to be a sailor, me. But it ain't in me."

"He can't swim!" laughed the young man next to Miles. He had a kind, sweet face and thick, scruffy dark hair. But there was a sadness about his eyes, like his laughter never reached them.

"So none of you fellas sailors, then?" Miles asked him.

"We're all farmers. I got land up in Lewevy. I mainly grow vegetables, but we have a couple of cows too, for milk mainly..."

"You always been a farmer....?"

"Jed, Jed Harris. I were always a farmer and a grower. Father was, afore that, too. That were how I met my wife. Father and me were working at her house, helping to establish the vegetable garden. Me and Evie fell head over heels." He laughed and nudged Miles. "Bet you got a girl in every port?"