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

concentration at regular intervals. When Gerald finished the
chapter, Mick opened his eyes and smiled.
‘Beautifully read. Beautiful.’
Gerald returned the book, and they walked back to the cab without
a word.
As Gerald strapped himself in, he said, ‘Well thank you ever so
much for this, Mick. It’s been fascinating. I’d like to go back to my
hotel now, please.’
There was a hint of coldness in Mick’s eyes as he swivelled round.
‘It’s not even ten o’clock.’
‘It’s been a long day, I was up before six finishing off my Powerpoint
display and what with the travelling, giving the presentation, then
the meal afterwards... I’m rather tired, and could really do with an
early night.’
‘Rather tired.’
Gerald recoiled – Mick’s anger felt like the sudden blast of heat
when an oven was opened.
‘I’m sorry to hear that you’re rather tired, Gerald, I really am.’
Gerald said nothing, but was careful to maintain eye contact and
show no sign of nerves. Eventually Mick looked away and sighed
dramatically.
‘Come on then, I’ll take you back.’
They drove in silence to the end of the street, then Mick stopped
the car.
‘I thought we’d made a connection.’
The anger had subsided, there was a look of betrayal in his eyes
now. To his surprise, Gerald felt more uncomfortable dealing with
this than his previous outburst.
‘I’ve enjoyed talking to you very much, but I really am tired.’
‘I’ll bet you sleep well, don’t you?’
Gerald chose his words carefully.
‘I often find it difficult to sleep when I’m stressed about something
at work, or if I’ve had an argument.’
‘But once you do nod off, how many hours do you sleep then?’
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