3
Snuggled among
a stand of trees in a bend of the otherwise unremarkable roadside,
the thatched-roof building, with its grey stone exterior partially
covered in ivy and surrounded by a neatly trimmed, thick green hedge,
projected a warm welcome.
Sean wasn’t
a complete stranger to the pub; he’d spent time there with
a few classmates during the months he’d attended school and
discovered it was a place he enjoyed. Contrary to tradition, the
pub had remained nameless since its inception. It relied on location
and décor to lure sailors as they set out toward home or
their favorite places ashore. Snuggled among a stand of trees in
a bend of the otherwise unremarkable roadside, the thatched-roof
building, with its grey stone exterior partially covered in ivy
and surrounded by a neatly trimmed, thick green hedge, projected
a warm welcome.
Entering through the sturdy oak doorway, Sean met with the gentle
musky odor emanating from fresh wooden casks of English ale stacked
behind the bar. Looking about him he again felt the exclusiveness
of the submarine navy. Hanging from the room’s rafters, flags
and pennants from navies around the world gave evidence of the many
submarines that had visited.
Every shelf, nook, or cranny in the room held something: brass gauges,
sculptures, and any memorabilia left behind by someone wishing to
leave his mark while passing. What interested Sean most were the
crests, plaques, and photographs on the walls, of submarines whether
in service, decommissioned, or sunk, and of the men who’d
served in them. Reading about their exploits always instilled a
feeling of being a part, however small, of something worthwhile.
This afternoon, unlike previous evenings, the pub was quiet. Other
than two sailors at the far side of the room engaged in a game of
darts and the bartender, who was busy washing glasses behind the
bar, the room was empty.
With every stool at the bar vacant, McGuire chose a seat where he’d
be easily seen by the barkeeper, close to but not quite behind the
pump handles. Looking up from his task Rafferty smiled, and then
straightening his body, reached for a towel and dried his hands.
His eyes fixed on Sean, Rafferty paused as if trying to recognize
his customer before approaching.