Kemp Vanished into Thin Air

Book 1: Lost & Found
1. Auflage 2014
ISBN: 978-1-4835-3684-2
Verlag: BookBaby
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 362 Seiten

Vanished into Thin Air is for readers who enjoy fables, tales full of magic and mythical adventures.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Kemp, John

Leseproben

Life at Lost & Found

For now, at least temporarily, forget about Brolin. Forget about dragons, and trolls and quarks and other dangers that you will learn about later. There will be plenty of time for that.

Let me tell you about more pleasant things, and a little about Miss Inge, myself, and our little world. That way you will get a clearer picture, a better understanding of how things operate here.

Miss Inge and I work in the Lost & Found office at St George’s Railway Station, at the very far end of platform one.

The station is a busy sort of place and a steady flow of lost objects end up at the rather archaic office of ours. As you might presume, some days are busier than others are.

Miss Flora Inge and myself - (I’m Peter Teekgathe or ‘Teek’ as I am commonly known) work here, and we are charged with sorting it all out. They leave us to our own devices here. So much so, I sometimes think we are forgotten at this end of the platform. Forgotten or not, every day is different but strangely somehow the same. Does that make any sense?

Well, anyway, you would probably walk right past the Lost & Found office and not notice it. It is little more than a converted storage room dating back to Victorian times (this part of the station is part of the original building). Oh my, it was truly beautiful in those days. I wish you could have seen it.

Anyway, we keep the door propped open during the summer. The extra light and fresh air makes for a pleasant change. We can share in the hubbub of the passing passengers catching their connections, heading off on holiday or simply going to work.

You can always tell which one it is, by the look of them; the grey, dour expressions and their loping, hunched frames or the optimistic, cheery tones and their light steps.

You can read the thoughts rumbling about their heads too, and you can feel their spirit, whether downtrodden or joyful ...

‘I have to get out of doing this; get a new job - anything!’

Or,

‘I’ll be on the beach in less than three hours!’

Yes, you learn to read people’s body language. Mind you, it’s not too difficult. Anyone can do it, but most people do not really observe things around them. Typically, they are caught up in their own world which is rather an apt expression given the circumstances.

When people do find our door, they will often remark, ‘I didn’t know this was here,’ or when they come inside, ‘It’s like going back in time isn’t it.’

And in many ways, it is.

You see, Miss Inge and I are quite old-fashioned in our ways, and even if we had a large redecoration fund or a budget of some sort, you wouldn’t find us running out to Ikea or somewhere.

No, we are happy with what we have, thank you. It’s not much but it’s ours. I will describe it for you, it’s nothing-fancy mind.

Inside, one bare light bulb illuminates the dusty office that is sorely in need of a lick of paint (and a dust). We are both much too old to attend to either of those strenuous activities however.

The frosted window high up on the wall provides some available light although not much; it is filthy dirty and covered with an old grill. However, it is near impossible to reach (even if we had the ambition and physical prowess to clean it).

Pushed face to face, are two well-worn wooden desks that take up half the space. The desks are full of little drawers and cubbyholes and are the sort to be found in less prestigious antique shops. You probably know the kind.

The floor is wooden but not in any modern-looking sort of way but is tired-looking and it creaks and groans when you walk across it, as if like us, it is also feeling its age.

There is an old-fashioned deep ceramic sink; the type people used to hand-wash their clothes in. It has one large tap that when turned on, makes a juddering sound that is nearly as loud as the incoming trains. The water is so cold it makes your hands turn blue.

Next to this, is a makeshift wooden shelf that I knocked up, a long time ago, and this is where we have our clean teacups and saucers.

Miss Inge drinks out of the porcelain (blue) one. I drink out of the slightly cracked (red) one. We share the cost of milk and tea bags although I often supply the digestive biscuits as my treat.

Next to this, is a small low-set trestle table, which we set the kettle and the biscuit tin on.

The high ceilings make the office drafty and in the winter, we turn on the three bar electric fire that is situated in another corner giving us just enough warmth if we sit in close, and are wrapped up well.

Miss Inge has added a few feminine touches here and there: a small vase with an imitation rose, a set of rather fancy embroidered tea towels and a real china teapot. She had talked about getting a coffee pot but I think she would rather not have the extra work it would involve.

Taking pride of place is an ornate, Victorian period piece, grandfather clock. The clock has everything you might hope for: mahogany and oak casing, elaborate corner spandrels with a stylish pediment, a polished brass pendulum, crystal and grooved glass and a face, which in part, features an astrological moon phase cast in a deep blue.

The clock usually chimes on the hour, every hour. I say usually, because it occasionally stops unexpectedly and then starts again just as unpredictably. I think I can safely share - without giving too much away - that the grandfather clock is not an ordinary clock. No, indeed. It is utterly unique and is part of the enigma that is, St George’s.

There is no suggestion that the clock was ever lost (of course it may have been) but rather that it had simply always been ‘here’ as part of the furniture. Which is a bit odd as it is much more decorative and valuable than everything else put together.

The job itself can be quite mundane and dull and at other times, quite exciting. I suppose there are many jobs like that, say a police officer or a firefighter in rural areas when you have to sit around and wait for something to happen. We do that quite a lot here.

During the less interesting times, my associate and I, try to amuse ourselves now and then. There is a set of uncollected books in a small, lopsided wicker bookcase. During a lull of a late afternoon, or just before the end of the day I often pull out a random book from the shelf. For the fun of it, I read - in my best theatrical rendering (I once did amateur dramatics you know) a quote from a Shakespearean play, a detective thriller or an amusing limerick, or maybe a short passage of literature I have chanced upon, ideally something amusing.

I have to speak quite loudly as Miss Inge is so hard of hearing but she seems to enjoy these very much; it gives me a lot of pleasure to see her smile.

How can I describe Miss Inge and her smile?

Well, she has an air that is never far from delight or wonder; she takes pleasure in the simplest of things, her face although grandmotherly, reminds me of a child seeing a kitten for the very first time; full of kindness, full of curiosity, always loving.

Miss Inge has never married and has no family. I do know she looked after her sick, elderly mother for many years when she was much younger. I suspect she has had a hard life.

I have never asked her about it, but sometimes you can sense these sorts of things. Besides, we accept each other for who we are, and try to live in the present and not the past although it is not always easy.

I suppose not many people know that much about Lost & Found. Most would probably be surprised at all manner of the items that are lost, dropped, forgotten, or abandoned at a common railway station.

Of course, St George’s is hardly common, it is in fact unique, being the gateway to a host of secrets but - please be patient - you will find out more about that later in the book I promise.

Anyhow, as I was saying, some of these lost items have rather sad little stories as to how they ended up here; the cats and the dogs (as you can imagine we love taking care of the temporarily lost animals). There was once an instance of a blue-throated parakeet turning up.

Thankfully, it all ended happily, (after a frantic phone call from the owner) we agreed to put the parakeet on the next intercity train to London. Bird and owner were reunited an hour later at Waterloo station. So, in this case not a flight of fancy. Miss Inge and I had a chuckle together over that outcome.

Another time, we had a ventriloquists dummy for a week. I think Miss Inge was quietly relieved when it was claimed after hearing me throwing my voice around for a week. I must say, with the practice my performance improved considerably.

There are other unusual stories as well, too countless to mention here, ones that we sometimes recall over a nice cup of tea.

Other times, there have been intriguing stories and we have even had the police involved (cash in briefcases and missing spy documents and that sort of thing). All either quickly reclaimed or ‘seized’ by the police I should add. However, no dead bodies thankfully.

While, other things are simply, clumsily dropped or left by forgetful owners: the umbrellas, briefcases, and hats and gloves for the most part.

To be honest, after working in Lost & Found for a number of years, it is only human nature to get a bit fed-up with all of the brollies and briefcases which...