Sketches, Dispatches, Hull Tales and Ballads - University of Hull

26
to be a writer, if I could read his dreams.
The train crawled slower and slower until it stopped. Weed-hung
embankments rose on either side. It was impossible to see where we
were. How far was Bartonby, I wondered impatiently. Even the old
man didn’t know. He didn’t believe the announcements, anyway,
they were all idiots on Humber Trains. He was pretty sure Beeching
had shut down Bartonby in the sixties. Perhaps we were waiting for
some ancient stretch of rail to be weeded, oiled and otherwise made
safe, he joked. Oh come on, come on, I thought. My resolve wouldn’t
last for ever.
After an incalculable rest-period, the train decided to crawl
gingerly onwards again and Tracy’s voice came triumphant over
the intercom.
‘Humber Trains are pleased to inform passengers that the
obstruction to the track has now been cleared, and we will NOT
making an unscheduled stop at Bartonby-le-Wold. We will be
arriving at Doncaster in approximately seventeen minutes.
We apologise for the late running of this service and any
inconvenience it may have caused to your onward journey.’
The old fool across the aisle from me applauded in a frenzy of
satirical glee. ‘Any inconvenience, any inconvenience!’ he shouted.
‘Any inconvenience it just may have caused? Any inconvenience it
just may have caused to my onward journey? My onward journey is
an abstraction, it can’t suffer from inconvenience. Whereas I most
definitely can, and do!’
Once again, I hushed him. I listened hard as the message was
repeated. In a moment, my pulse-rate returned to normal, my hope
evaporated.
An hour and a half later, the last false apology had been uttered,
and we were in Paragon Station, Hull. I headed across the forecourt
towards the back entrance of the hotel. It was where I always stayed.
I have never let on to Nella, because we’re supposed to be saving for
the darling riverside flat. I told her I stayed in the university lodgings
in Tunny-Fish Grove.