Lost
(1960-61)

If I had been a bit more careful in the first place I should not have lost myself. Now the fog was silently creeping down between the roofs of these old, high Edwardian houses and I knew that I should never find a way out of this place without assistance. Occasionally I was able to catch a glimpse of a distant mast-head or a black funnel peering out of the gloom. Once I felt a tramp slink past me. I must have strayed a little from the main route because, before I knew where I was, I found myself in a filthy alley. Two cats were fighting over a piece of fish behind two unhealthy dustbins. The whole alley reeked of fish.

Suddenly I cracked my head on a wooden board which perilously hung on two rusty, creaking chains. Had I not been dreaming I should have noticed this low board on which I could just read the two words" THE ANCHOR ". Presumably this was some notorious public house of the district. At my own risk I descended two steps. I had to strike a match to see my way and, in the pale, yellow glow, I was just able to make out the word "SALOON" on the frosted glass door. I hesitated. Should I enter this disreputable den? Slinker had warned me about the inns in this district; yet instinct drew me on, if only to find out where I was.

Slowly I opened the door. It creaked; and I started. Undeterred I continued on in. Somewhere in an upper room an inmate was striking a piano which was in need of adjustment. To my dismay, the stagnant smoky atmosphere was just as uncomfortable as the smog outside in the docks. It was some time before my eyes became accustomed to the gloom. From the far end of the room I could hear laughter mingled with loud words of abuse. Obviously a card game was in progress.

I began to wonder whether I had taken the right step in entering such a scandalous house. A hunchback limping around the room growled across at me, What yer want, mister? On the spur of the moment I ordered a drink and without thinking gave the barman a pound note.

I picked my way through the battered tables and broken chairs to a roaring log fire, the only thing in the room which felt homely. Gingerly I seated myself at a small table. Three men sat at a long low table with their backs to me. Suddenly one of them turned to stoke the fire. It was then that I realised who they were.

"We thought you'd show up," said one." But you'll not be slipping out of the country this time. We've got Slinker. Are you coming quietly?"

A. CLARKE, IIIA