The Reef Read Online Free PDF Page A

bar, but he didn’t mind. That smell, people said, was character.
    A brown cat shot by his feet and outside, taking less than a second to come back in, damp. It looked up to Manolin, its eyes narrowed, before it trotted under a table. He looked across the large, wooden decked room to a group of humans and rumel that were sitting in their usual place in the far corner making much noise. They were hunched over a table with a lantern hanging above.
    You either got sailors or fishermen littering this dim building-it was always the same, never attracted a new crowd, and there was something comforting about that. You got cats everywhere, mingling with the customers. Two old men were playing dice, as they always did. Others were engaged in passionate conversations or arguments, persuading the other that their opinion was revelation. Brass ornaments littered the walls, rare bottles, and antique books sat gathering mould in dark corners.
    An old, black-skinned rumel looked up from the table in the corner as the door shut. He bellowed something incoherent across the tavern, gestured elaborately. His black eyes gradually focussed on Manolin, his thick black tail shook, his face creased into a smile.
    ‘Hey, Manny. Whatever took you so long? Has that pretty creature of yours been beating you up again?’
    Laughter filtered around the table as Manolin walked into the light. The beam drew across his face like a curtain revealing his scar.
    Manolin became aware of awkwardness. ‘No. I slipped over whilst having a bath. Damn soap.’ He walked around the group, who seemed to pick up in spirit as he scraped a chair backwards. He slipped his coat off, sat down.
    Opposite him was a middle-aged figure, wearing fine clothes: a grey silk waistcoat covered a white shirt, and he was crowned with a top hat. His name was Santiago DeBrelt, and his black moustache curved magnificently outwards.
    Despite his age, Santiago was, by all accounts, a bounder, and a bit of a cad.
    Manolin observed him for a moment. The older man maintained his usual cool, detached fascination with the world, as if he pulled all the strings for his own amusement.
    Manolin nodded and smiled, and Santiago, tilted his head down slowly and surely, then brought a cigar to his mouth. He inhaled, presenting a glow at the tip. His violet eyes narrowed with sympathy at Manolin, rolled his lips inwards in a half smile. The two men had known each other for years. Manolin couldn’t hide what happened to Santiago. You couldn’t hide much from the man.
    ‘Evening, Manolin. To fill you in, the party is just getting started and Tchad has not arrived yet as he’s still signing the wedding contracts.’ Santiago inhaled from his cigar again, his cheeks being sucked in, enhancing the angles on his face, making him look like a drug addict. He took a sip from his nearly empty glass, calm, methodically, as if it would be enough to pre-empt any complaints on him being a drunk.
    ‘Ah, the secret wedding,’ Manolin said. ‘In that case I’ll order a little something to get me started until he arrives.’
    Manolin stood up and walked to the bar. He leaned forward as the barmaid wondered over. She was short, old and slender, and she looked at him and relaxed her shoulders.
    ‘I’ve never seen anyone need a drink as much as you,’ she said.
    ‘True,’ he said.
    ‘You spend too much time here, you know.’
    Manolin said, ‘You know how to sell a drink, don’t you?’
    ‘Can’t a woman care?’ she said. ‘You look troubled.’
    ‘You could say that,’ Manolin said.
    ‘I’ve seen guys from all over Has-jahn with faces like yours. From that I’ve known of a lot of lonely women.’
    ‘I have to work.’
    ‘This isn’t work, honey. This isn’t work. Spend a little more time with her. Yeah?’ ‘You wouldn’t understand. Life isn’t that simple. Anyway, I’m not going to talk about it. Give me two malts, finest ones you’ve got.’
    ‘All right, but this isn’t the solution,