This is a short chapter from my novel, 'The Old Hall Hotel.' Still very much a WIP but wanted to share to see what people thought... In the hotel, there is a small library [just because I think everywhere should have one!] It's main customer is Bradley- a homeless man who welcomes the warmth and a place to embrace his passion for words. With him is his constant companion, his dog and best friend, Finty. CHAPTER 6 BRADLEY The Bradley chapter is a departure as Daniel does not feature. This is also the same with a chapter with a character called Abby. In between this and Chapter 2, Bradley has met Daisy, a middle aged lady, an old eccentric lady called Lily and learned more about the history of the hotel through the kindly Alex. Bradley had noted that Finty had made a point of walking more slowly when they approached the hotel recently. As he did every day, he picked her up from Billy outside the co-op promising to return her before last orders at the Old Clubhouse. Usually her tail would wag on spotting Bradley. Recently though she had resisted his gentle reassuring and looked back pathetically at Billy, silently begging him not to make her go. Finty wasn’t the most sociable of dogs, enjoying small bursts of attention often but briefly. Today, she had begrudgingly followed him into the hotel and into the library in which she found her usual spot by the fire, which was never lit, and curled up, sighing human-like, as she did. The hotel had opened the library in the early seventies after the council shut down the small, barely functioning one in the town centre to open a new post office. After a modest but passionate protest, the hotel which had just reopened after renovation, put an idea forward that the few hundred books be moved to the now surplus extra dining room. It was fairly successful initially, even attracting attention from the national press who enjoyed the quirky story with its quirky characters. Of late, in the hotel's struggling years it was somewhat forgotten about. Books were occasionally taken out by temporary guests and never returned, the modest librarian/waitress job dying with the last employer. Miranda had no interest in the library and had left it to semi- disarray. New books were now donated during local house moves, or from paperbacks left in hotel rooms. Bradley, the only loyal customer, had offered to clean the library many times. It annoyed him that the books weren’t in any obvious order, that the windows were dirty and that a white plastic Christmas tree still stood pathetically in the corner at the beginning of February. Last week he had started to move it out when Alex stopped him. ‘Don’t let Miranda see you being helpful, she’ll be furious.’ He knew Alex was only half joking and he hastily returned the piece of tack to its corner on the speckled yellow and blue floor. He had suggested to Miranda when she was in a rare placid mood, that they should look at restoring the old floor. Bradley had spotted under the wooden bookshelves evidence of white and blue marble. It reminded him of the old spa his grandmother used to take him to at weekends. Miranda had immediately lost her venture into kindness and snapped at him. She pointed around the room, her voice rising that the refurbishment had cost the earth and kept the heat in better. That this room was pointless and a cluttered mess in her already cluttered and messy life. That he was the only person who used it and how was a tramp ever going to help her financially? She had apologised later in the disguise of telling a joke she had read on a café blackboard. He could never be too resentful toward Miranda. The world had forced her to be angry and resentful, same as him. He just had more practice at disguising it. He never took for granted the fact that she allowed Finty to come inside with him, or that she still allowed him to come in at all. He suspected it had a lot to do with Alexander, who not only refused not to see the good in the most hard-hearted of person, but had the ability to work it out of them, if only slightly. He also liked how Alex spoke to Finty as though she could understand him like Bradley did, and how he called her ‘old girl.’ It made Bradley feel important somehow, needed. The library gave Bradley a purpose. It had, he would tell people who asked, ‘such potential’, and it was by far his favourite room in the town. Not that he frequented many rooms in the towns these days. There was a deep window seat which looked over the square. He could, although he would avoid looking whilst reading, just see the spot under the tree where he usually slept a night if the police hadn’t moved him on. Where he was supposed to move on to they never told him. The officer wouldn’t even bore him with the ‘talk’ anymore. ‘Moooove on.’ You would hear her before you saw her. ‘Mooooove on.’ Bradley called her ‘Officer Move On’ in his head and would chuckle that it was simply the officer announcing herself. His laughter had never helped in these circumstances. He would pause in between chapters to look at this spot. His ‘home.’ He felt safe overlooking it with the luxury of warmth. He would particularly feel a surge of uncontrolled joy when he saw Officer Move-on surveying it. Sometimes she would catch his eye from the window and he would wave. Bradley wasn’t hard to miss because he wore a multi-covered jumper that had once belonged to his grandfather. He loved it because it helped him feel close to his grandfather, but it hardly suited his plan to fade into the furnishings and not be noticed. That being said, Bradley knew that even if he became a millionaire overnight he wouldn’t take it off. He at least felt he brought some colour to the library. It was lacking somewhat in the furnishings. A Persian grey rug partly covered the unslighly floor. Huge windows, conservatory-like, made the room naturally light, although it rarely caught the sun and it also meant he would get anxious the darker it got. The reminder that the warmth would leave his bloodstream, the lamps would blink on outside, the distraction of the chapter would leave his sight and he would have to hand Finty’s lead back to Billy. He browsed the shelf in search of something new. He was determined to make his way through every book he could, regardless of its intended audience, before his body gave up the ghost. He made mental notes of the books he had abandoned or not given his full attention to that he would eventually return to. Perhaps Great Expectations which he hadn’t been in the right frame of mind for. He had recently restarted Brideshead Revisited and couldn’t decide if he loved or hated it. He wondered if he could have a talk with the author it could sway him one way or the other. He heard footsteps approaching and knew, with relief, by the lightness yet surprising quickness of the steps that it was Alex. Finty’s tail wagged for the first time since they arrived. ‘Hi there, Bradley.’ Alex’s voice instantly put him at ease, gentle and reassuring. ‘Alex, my man.’ Alex put down a flask of hot chocolate and a ham and cheese baguette and Bradley nodded his thanks. Finty wandered over and sat beside Alex, waiting for the inevitable dog treat. ‘Is there a kick to that hot chocolate, Al?’ There was a too long pause before Alex answered. ‘None going, sorry Bradley.’ ‘It’s that kind of day…’ Bradley watched him carefully. ‘Yeah, it is. Don’t shoot the messenger but Miranda says she’s shutting up early today. Meeting. You have another couple of hours though, I’d say.’ ‘Righto.’ Bradley tried to not let the despair show in his face. Alex didn’t deserve that. The guilt. It wasn’t his to feel and yet he seemed to absorb everybody’s. It wasn’t healthy. ‘You’re welcome to stay in my office for a bit though?’ Alex’s eyes, as usual, looked tired and worried. ‘No. No thanks, Alex. If Miranda doesn’t mind me taking another book or so to see me through the night…’ ‘As many as you like, mate.’ Alex perched on the end of the window seat but did not settle himself. ‘God knows it’s nice to see them put to good use. Reminds me of the good old days. I’ll bring some more batteries for your torch, don’t want it cutting out on you again.’ ‘You’re a saint.’ ‘That I’m not.’ Alex jumped down from the seat. ‘Stay a while?’ Bradley cringed at how desperate his voice sounded. ‘Wish I could.’ He scratched Finty behind the ear. ‘I’ve got the day off Thursday though for your doctor's appointment. I’ll buy you a curry at the Clubhouse afterward.’ Bradley loathed the doctors. He loathed trying to make an appointment with no home address, hence it not being a ‘real doctor.’ Alex would always go to the drop-in, and wait with him. Bradley hated the waiting, the muzak always in a rebellious fight with the calm mantra he tried to practise. He hated that the surgery had the same plastic-looking floor as the library. He hated the examination. He hated the patronising. If you were homeless, you would drink too much too. But a day with Alex was welcome. It almost made him feel human again. *** He was deep into Charles’ first meeting with Sebastian in Brideshead Revisited when he noticed that Finty had gone from her usual spot on the rug. He turned to see a young girl in a bright red jumper, stroking her whilst Finty sniffed, her tail wagging slowly. ‘Finty! Fin! Stop bothering the lass!’ ‘It’s okay!’ She looked about five but he had never been good at guessing ages. ‘She’s funny!’ ‘Aye, that’s one word for the dafty.’ He gave a sharp whistle and Finty lolloped over. He gave her a full-handed stroke on the head and she sat, tongue lolling, still looking curiously at the girl. ‘Can I stroke him again?’ ‘Her. Yes. She might get bored but she won’t bite’ The girl walked over and ran her hand over the dog’s back, who, as Bradley predicted, had already laid down with an obvious show of indifference after the initial minute or so of excitement. ‘Are you staying at the hotel?’ ‘No.’ The little girl continued to stroke Finty, who had her head in her paws, barely noticing. ‘Me and mummy are meeting Daniel.’ ‘Is he the one staying here?’ ‘No, it’s Daniel.’ The girl gave him a look. ‘You know Daniel, he lives next door to me.’ ‘Oh. That Daniel.’ He chuckled. He wished his universe fitted into the simple small geography of the little girl. ‘Does he work here?’ ‘Noooooo. Don’t be silly. He just writes here.’ ‘Oh.’ Finally bored of Finty she stood up and looked around the room. ‘Books.’ She stated. ‘Yes. Do you like to read?’ ‘No.’ ‘That’s a shame.’ She considered this and then said, ‘I can’t like books because I like dancing.’ ‘You could like both.’ She laughed. ‘Silly.’ ‘You could. You could do two pirouettes and then read two chapters. The dancing reader.’ She gave him a questioning look and turned her attention back to Finty. ‘I wish I had a dog.’ Bradley gave a wry smile. ‘Oh, she isn’t mine. Well, she used to be but a friend looks after her now when I moved… well, moved out of my house.’ Her eyes widened. ‘That’s sad!’ ‘Yes. But I get to see her every day. She comes with me here don’t you Finty, lass?’ ‘She’s big.’ ‘She should be bigger. She was the runt. Airedales are usually much bigger.’ She sat crossed legged and played with the dogs ears. ‘You live outside. I’ve seen you.’ Bradley played with the frays of his scarf. ‘I guess that’s true.’ ‘Why? It’s cold. Sometimes I live outside in my tent but only for one or two nights. But only when the sun has been shining.’ ‘I don’t mind the cold.’ The lie he told most often. ‘But it’s COLD.’ ‘BUT I’m used to it.’ ‘What’s her name?’ He was thankful at how quickly and willingly she moved away from subjects. ‘Finty.’ ‘Funny.’ ‘I suppose it is. But any name sounds funny if you think about it long enough.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Rosie. Rosie. Rooooosiiiieeeeee.’ ‘See?’ ‘That’s my name.’ ‘I’d never have guessed.’ ‘Rosiiieeee.’ She grinned and looked at him. ‘Say yours.’ ‘Mine?’ ‘So it sounds funny.’ ‘Bradley. Braderbradleeeeey.’ She giggled. It was high and infectious. He laughed back. ‘Now say it properly.’ ‘Bradley.’ ‘Still funny!’ ‘Cheeky.’ She giggled and then stopped when the scepter-like figure of Lily walked in. Today Lily wore a huge sun hat and sunglasses with a heavy winter coat. She looked at the girl with obvious distaste but hesitated before giving a very small smile to Bradley. Bradley smiled back but didn’t speak. Yesterday he had and she had snarled. She picked a book up off the first shelf without looking at it and sharply walked away, pausing only to take the door off the latch so that it slammed shut behind her, the bang echoing around the room. Both Rosie and Finty jumped. Rosie looked at Bradley, her eyes wide. ‘She was horrible!’ Bradley shook his head. ‘She’s nice really. She’s just having a bad day. We all have them. Doesn’t make us horrible.’ She patted Finty’s head. ‘Scaring poor Vlinty. Nasty lady. Don’t be sad, Vlinty.’ She took Finty’s lead and took her to the window. ‘Ooh, look Vlinty! That’s my mummy out there!’ ‘Finty.’ Bradley glanced through the window to see an adult version of Rosie, her eyes growing wide at both Bradley and Finty. She started to run, indicating that Rosie should meet her at the front of the hotel. ‘Bye’ she hopped down from the window sill leaving Bradley suddenly and without warning, lonely.
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