milliways_bar | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

Sharpe emerges from wherever he spent the night, probably a room in the staff quarters, looking slightly the worse for wear.

Without pausing, he heads straight across the room and out through the front door. Ten minutes or so later, he comes back in, dripping - apparently he felt the need to dunk his head in the trough at home.

With a brief stop at the Bar, he makes for a booth. And, slowly and with much crossing-out, he starts to write.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"They have been." He grins. "Many times."

"Thought as much,"says Annie.

"I'm still hoping he'll show up here, one of these days."

"He's never been here?" Annie tilts her head curiously. "That's a shame, now. Does he know about the place at all?"

"I've not seen him since I started coming in. He went back to Ireland, after the war ended."

Annie nods. "Sorry to hear that. The separation bit, I mean. I hope for your sake he does turn up."

"Yeah, me too. I could go to visit, or he me, but it's a long way with the kids..."

"Naturally," says Annie. "Travelling's always tough when there's children involved, even by my day."

"I know a little about travelling in your day. Small spaces... must be hell with an active child to amuse."

"Oh, Philippa was a nightmare every time we had to get her on a plane," says Annie with a roll of her eyes. "She'd start screaming almost as soon as we took off, 'cos it hurt her ears so... trains weren't much better, but at least that was just chasing her up and down the compartments until one of us caught up with her."

Sharpe chuckles. "In my day, a child like that'd be given a little brandy to quiet her down."

"My doctor had me drinking Guinness before I fed her, when she was still nursing," Annie says. "It got her to sleep faster. Same idea, I suppose, if not as useful later on."

"S'posed to be very good for you, Guinness."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only