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Terry stood on deck as the ferry slowly arrived at the island. He watched the sailors throw
ropes to their colleagues on shore and then looked up at the villages of small white houses
that dotted the mountainside above the small town. He was planning a six-month stау, much
longer than the few days or weeks that the noisy crowds of tourists around him were
planning. He had given himself that long to write a novel and he was determined to succeed,
whatever the temptations to enjoy himself might be. Leaving his life behind was just the
thing he needed, he thought, and the island seemed to him to be the ideal place for it. He
collected his things and мейд his way onto the concrete quay.
He was immediately surrounded by local people, all rudely pushing each other out of the
way to offer him a room that was guaranteed to be 'the cheapest in town', although he knew
that they couldn't all be the cheapest. Terry politely shook his head and peered around for the
Paradise Hotel and one 'Mrs Magda'. She had sounded quite intimidating on the phone, so
when a young woman approached him and quietly asked in perfect English if he was Terry
Snow, he wasn't sure how to respond. The woman smiled and said: 'Perhaps you were
expecting my mother? I hope you are not disappointed.'
'N ...No, no. Not at all,' stammered Terry. She picked up one of his bags and they set off
into the small town. She asked him about his stay and he told her that his plan was to stay a
week at the hotel while he found more permanent accommodation.
'Six months is a long time to be on the island,' she said. 'You'll find it different in winter.
Once, there was farming and fishing on the island but they've practically disappeared.
Tourism is the only source of income and so few of the locals fancy sitting and watching
winter come when the tourists leave. Almost all of them have second jobs on the mainland
and the heart has been ripped out of the place.' 'And you?' Terry asked.
' I went away to the mainland for my education. Since I came back, I stay here all year
round.' They stopped outside a hotel. It reminded Terry of an old woman who still managed
to keep a certain air of dignity. It could do with a bit of paint and one of the letters in the
name was missing, but it must have once been one of the most impressive buildings on the
island. Terry began to wonder about its decline and what caused it but realized that the
young woman was waiting for him to say something.
Im sorry,' he said. 'What did you say?'
'I asked you what you thought of the hotel.' She looked at it, 'Since Dad died, it hasn't been
the same. Mum gets a few of the local men in to help out every now and then, but you never
do as good a job when you're being paid as when it's an act of love, do you? And Dad loved
that hotel. It was his gift to his grandchildren, he used to say.' Terry looked at the hotel
again. He felt that he had come somewhere where buildings were much more than shelter.
Each brick held a story ready to be unlocked and he felt inspired just by touching them. If he
felt like that after such a short time, imagine what he might achieve in six months. 'Well,
maybe I could help out a bit, while I'm here,' he said, excitedly. The young woman nodded
and said, 'Maybe,' before leading the way into the cool interior of the hotel.

Карина 2019-04-22 20:57:38

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