He’d had a restless night in the four-poster in The Side of Beef, with a dream of struggling to gather up scattered sheets of paper from a railway line that stretched across a bare plain. He was acutely aware that the longer his task took the more likely was a train to thunder down on him. He could hear a kind of rattling along the rails. Then, in time with the rattling, came a series of knocks at the door of his room and a woman entered with a jug of warm water for him to shave and asked if she should draw the curtains. Tom recognized her nasal voice and visualized her mournful eyes. He muttered to her to leave the curtains and tried to get back to sleep. But he abandoned the attempt after a few moments, got up and went across to the window. The fog had lifted and it was a bright, hard morning, with frost on the panes and sun glinting on the roofs opposite. The street below was bustling with people and carts and carriages. Tom washed and dressed rapidly and went down to breakfast.
What do You think about The Salisbury Manuscript (2009)?
