I was looking at my Mike Scott story today, something else on the list of ‘to be continued‘! It’s set in the early 1950’s about a reporter on a provincial newspaper who is trying to find a missing woman, hoping it will be a big scoop. She always wore a bowler hat in a fun way, and he went to the second hand shop where she had bought it. Mike was attacked by an unknown person and saved by Jenny, who works in his office and was a friend of the missing young woman. Jenny gets him back to where he lodges with Mrs old Brewer
At first Mike felt surprisingly chipper the next day; the huge lump on the side of his head only hurt when he touched it and he combed his hair very gingerly and merely dabbed some Brylcreem round it.
He had to keep upright, leaning forward caused a surge of vertigo, so he didn’t risk shaving, and cleaned his teeth with his towel beneath his chin. The thought of food was repellent but he had several cups of tea with sugar to wash down a small handful of aspirin.
The events from yesterday were gradually emerging from the soupy fog that was his memory. The taxi had brought him back to Mrs Brewer’s and Adam had been standing on the doorstep with the old lady waiting. Jenny had managed to find him, it seemed. What a treasure the girl was.
His friend had tried to persuade him to come home with him, his parents would look after him, but no, Mike wanted to collapse in his own bed. Adam helped him upstairs, helped him get into his pyjamas and into bed and found a chamber pot from somewhere – Mrs Brewer probably, to put beside the bed in case he was sick.
Mike had woken at one point and Adam was sitting on the chair reading something. When he woke again in the morning, Adam had left. Mike had tottered out of his room, desperate to visit the W.C. Fortunately the chamber pot, so thoughtfully placed, had not been needed.
He left the house without encountering Mrs Brewer, and strolled slowly into town. He wasn’t up to doing much, he was supposed to be going somewhere and interviewing someone about something, but that was for the moment lost in the hazy fog. He would however go to the office, it would be empty today, he could lurk there and try to remember what the Dickens had happened yesterday.
There’s some way to go, but I will keep you updated!
Lois Elsden 