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It is five o'clock and Merriman has abandoned the pier in favour of his galley kitchen in Collum Street. With an imperial pride, he surveys his realm. One pan, elderly but serviceable. One exquisite china teapot, a moment of indulgence never regretted, sitting in its corner, other utensils keeping the same respectful distance Merriman himself observes when dealing with his fellow men. Two mugs, chipped. Merriman is not a believer in teacups. His hands are workman's hands, with broad, snubby fingers and wide, strong nails kept very short. He likes to grasp his mug about the middle, or at least grip a solid, sensible handle. The fine teacups which came with the pot are still in their wrapping somewhere, their fragility too painful, their beauty impractical and vulnerable. Merriman continues his inventory. One bottle of ambivalent red table wine, open. One small tumbler, half full - in the Teutonic style, Merriman is content to drink his wine from a working man's glass. Plates, cutlery, a small grill oven covered in a brief lifetime's grime.
Nodding, Merriman unwraps his parcel, and finds himself the beneficiary of a gift. Set atop the remains of a most excellent pig, wrapped in its own layer of greaseproof paper, is a small, stiff square of paper or card. Merriman immediately identifies it as the enemy. It is a foreign invader amongst his chops. He wishes, unequivocally, to repel it. But the card - or rather, as he knows without looking, the single frame contact print - does not retreat. Having gained this ground, it is determined to hold, and, under heavy fire, he eventually yields his position. He removes the wrapping and studies the print, then carries it to his table to scrutinise it more closely. Like his unwanted teacups, the photograph makes him feel that he was built on the wrong scale, a rough cut-out or a design sketch for a later work, never finished. After a moment, Merriman sets the print neatly in the middle of the table, picks up his coat, and walks without fuss down the stairs and out into the evening. |
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