The Daffodil Sky

The Daffodil Sky
Bill got off the train, under a stormy, dark yellow. Automatically, he went to the railway footbridge. That was always the quickest way to the town. He could save half a mile thatway. And then he saw that the footbridge was closed. There was a big blue notice board. ‘Danger. Keep off.’ ‘this town has changed, he said to himself.
So he went to the long way, past thefactories and along the thin black railway line. Soon he same to a pub. In the old days, Bill often stopped there on his way to market.
In those days he used to come into town every week. He brought hisfruit and vegetables or, in early spring, his daffodils, and sold them in the market. In the early days, he had brought them in a horse and cart. But soon he had been ready to buy his first car…
Thewalls of the pub were black with smoke from passing trains. Bill went through the glass door and walked up to the bar.
I’ll have a beer, please, he said
Two railway men were playing cards in onecorner of the bar.
Bill paid for his beer. I’m looking for a Miss Whitehead’, he said. ‘She used to come in here. She used to live in Wellington Street and work in the shoe factory there. That was along time ago, said the barman. ‘They built a new shoe factory ten years ago-outside the town.
‘She used to come in here when jack Shipley had this pub.
Jack Shipley? Said the barman. He’s been deadnine years now.
One of the railway men looked up from his card game.
Do you mean a Cora Whitehead? He said.
That’s right
She still lives in Wellington Street with her old that
Thanks verymuch, said Bill
He finished his drink and went out. The sky above his head was still that bright, unnatural daffodil yellow. Suddenly he remembered his first visit to this pub. He had called in, manyyears ago, during a storm, to get a drink of water for his horse and some beer for himself. How many years ago was it? He thought. But I still remember everything so clearly.
His cart had been full...