Section 87 gets an earful of Edinburgh
Though he was shattered from the drive up from Suffolk, Vernon found sleep evaded him and contrarily he wished for the fires of Africa he had spurned not so long ago. Though it sounded little like English or Bemba, Nsansa’s response to his speculative caress clearly translated as ‘Get some rest’. Counting sheep achieved next to nothing and eventually Vernon fell asleep counting the setbacks he’d experienced since meeting Tarkey in the Woolpack and anticipating what it was going to cost him.
They rose the next morning anticipating the fortifying late-starter’s breakfast they’d negotiated; according to the website this was ‘legendary’.
“What’s the view like?” asked Nsansa somewhat wedged into the bijou bathroomette. Vernon swept back the industrial-grade velvet curtains and gasped melodramatically in appreciation.
“Y’get a g’d view of monumental Sco-tland” he intoned in his best Scottish accent.
Freeing herself with difficulty from the confines of the en suite Nsansa took a look and exclaimed, “Lordy Gordy the building’s moved in the night.”
From the over-dressed window they looked out onto the back of the massive bronze patina stained head of one of Edinburgh’s finest. Something of the neighbourhood could be glimpsed under the left ear.
Check out Chapter Five of the Nonsense Filter on “The Novel” page