2011 - Theses - Flinders University

and that bogey monster!’ He shivers, and laughs. ‘Good luck mate,’ and settles back in hisseat as Jim collects up his things and shuffles his ungainly luggage towards the carriage door.The station at Copley is no more than a wooden box with verandahs, and there is no platform,only flat bare ground. A young man saunters towards the hissing train from the shadow of theverandah, grinding the gravel softly with each step, gazing nowhere in particular. Jim feelsthis is no arrival at all.The only destination is a two storey wooden pub directly opposite the station. He inquiresafter a room from a disinterested young girl, and leaves his things there in a pile on thesinking mattress, before heading to the bar, to put in his order for dinner. There is no choice:roast mutton is the standard fare. On a whim, or perhaps to rally his spirits, he orders a beer,and takes it to a table to wait for his meal. Nobody will notice tonight, he reasons, andtomorrow I will begin for the mission.Jim does not hear the other gentleman enter the dining room until the chair across the tablefrom him is being scraped back across the sticky floor boards.‘Evening.’ A large fair hand extends towards him, and he gulps his mouthful of toughmutton in order to politely make acquaintance. The hand he takes is rough, and strong aroundhis soft narrow one.‘Evening.’‘Mind I join you?’‘Not at all. Be glad of company.’ Jim smiles, knowing he has just given himself away,although the man does not seem to notice.‘Name’s Coles. Norman. 138 And you are?’79