I wrapped my arms around my body and stood in the middle of the room, hugging myself. I looked around, but I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself.
I wished more than ever that Jack was with me. I missed his company; the conversation, or rather, the bickering. I felt as though I hadn’t seen a friend in weeks.
Walking over to the fireplace, I knelt down and ignited the lumber, purely out of habit. I wasn’t cold. I never was. But if Jack were here he would have asked me to light the fire.
You’re like my own, personal heater. That is what he had told me many months ago. I sighed and sat down on the bed, thinking about where my life was heading.
I had no plan, but at least now I had some money. I was starving; I hadn’t eaten anything for two days. The only thing I’d had was the cider at the Griffin with Noah, so I was looking forward to a good, hearty supper in the dining room downstairs. Perhaps I’d smuggle a few bread rolls into my room, too.
The chances of Jack finding me were now slim to none. I’d exhausted all of my trustworthy contacts, so following my trail would prove to be difficult. Worse yet, Hawthorne would not be able to track Jack or my parents because he was not ‘in tune’ with them like he was with me.
After waiting an hour, I made my way downstairs to the dining room where a few of the other guests were already eating. I found an empty table and sat down, picking up the menu and scanning the selection of food, which consisted entirely of seafood. Oysters, prawns, octopus, and squid were featured in many of the dishes. The very thought made me feel sick.
I wasn’t a big fan of seafood, so I chose the only thing that didn’t strike me as repulsive; grilled salmon.
It wasn’t too bad. The barmaid brought me a glass of red wine to accompany my meal, which was rather delicious.
As I ate, I observed the other people in the dining room. Most were older men who looked weather-worn, but there were a few young lads mixed amongst them.
One young man, probably in his early twenties, was sitting at the bar with an older gentleman who looked as though he might be his father. They had the same broad nose and square jaw. The young man glanced over his shoulder to look at me several times. I was highly paranoid that he might recognise me, so I kept my head low while I ate. I wished I’d brought my cloak downstairs with me; I felt far too exposed.
‘Excuse me, Miss?’
I jumped and dropped my fork. I hadn’t heard anyone approach my table; I’d been far too absorbed in my thoughts.
I stooped down to snatch up my fork from the ground, before looking to see who had spoken to me. It was the young man from across the room.
‘Hi,’ I said, placing the fork back on the table. I was rather startled that he had approached me, and my suspicion peaked immediately. However, with this man standing mere feet from me, I was able to appreciate how handsome he actually was. He was tall and broad shouldered, with tousled brown hair and an unshaven face. His deep-set eyes were black like coals, and he smelled of the sea, but it was not unpleasant.
He wore a long-sleeved, white sweatshirt and a pair of khaki overalls that were far too baggy; the shoulder straps were hanging down around his waist. His enormous boots were covered in dry dirt, and I could see rippling muscles behind his sweatshirt.
For a moment, I wasn’t sure if it had been him who had spoken so politely.
The young man fidgeted momentarily before glancing back over his shoulder, seeking reassurance from his fellow sailors, who nodded eagerly.
‘Erm, I don’t mean ter interrupt, Miss,’ he said in a strong Irish accent. ‘But, I, er, noticed that yer alone.’
I stared. Was this really happening?
He cleared his throat nervously. ‘I’m Dagon,’ he said, wincing slightly at his own name.
‘Dah-gon?’ I repeated, unsure.
He nodded. ‘It’s, erm, the name of a sea-god from the old religion.’ He didn’t seem quite adept at talking to women. He stuttered, and um’ed a lot. ‘Ma chose it. Anyway,’ he took a deep breath. ‘I was wonderin’ if I might buy yeh a drink? Maybe have a chat?’
Well, this was the last thing I had expected. I couldn’t help but stare, rather shocked. A small voice in my brain yelled: Don’t trust anyone! But it was only a drink … right? Jack wouldn’t mind if I talked to a sailor for a bit, would he?
‘Oh,’ I cleared my throat nervously. ‘Um, thank you.’ I was not versed in matters like these, and I didn’t know what to say or do. I indicated to the seat opposite myself, welcoming him to join me.
Dagon gave a nervous smile and sidled into the chair before waving down the barmaid, who hurried over with a smile on her face.
‘What’ll it be, Dagon?’ she asked with a toothy smile.
‘A pint for me, Mary, and for … shit, I didn’t ask yer name.’ Dagon suddenly looked horrified with himself.