permanent summer

The rain had stopped and the sun was low in the sky. Seagulls were screeching and scavenging along the line of the dock and the people waiting.

‘You’ll love it da, it’s got everything on it,’ Elizabeth said with hand-rubbing delight, breathing in the clean early morning air. ‘Eighty restaurants, more bars than they’ve got in Clydebank, a couple of theatres, and they’ve got the Bay City Rollers on tour.’

Delaney had on a clean shirt and tie. His bushy winter eyebrows shot up. ‘They’re aw fuckin dead. How can they be on tour? And they were shite anyway. Any mair of that Shang-a-Lang shite and I’m topping myself.’

He looked at the bird-like frame of his daughter as she stood on the pontoon beside him, with her slight stoop and the shiny black shell of the carefully coiffured hair framing her face.

The cruise ship, Permanent Summer, squatted in Invergordon waters once a year to take on new passengers and supplies. The latest technology ensured it was powered by wind, wave and solar energy in the other 364 days at sea.

‘You’ll love it,’ said Elizabeth and squeezed his hand. ‘You get your own pod and an allowance. And there’s everything there for you. And you’ll get to see all the countries of the world. You know you used to love those David Attenborough programmes. Now you’ll live it.’

‘Don’t talk shite Beth.’ He called her Beth, because he knew his daughter didn’t like the diminutive. ‘Nobody lets that monstrosity dock in their waters. It’s full of old fogeys like myself with nothing to offer, and no money to pay for anything. It’s a death ship. They should be flying skull and crossbones. The only way you come aff that boat is in an urn.’

‘I’m sure you’ll get your bearings quite quickly.’

They watched big bluff, red-faced sailors helping the new passengers aboard. One of them with a fringe of grey curls approached Beth and Delaney. He looked ready to hook Beth’s arm and help her along and into the line of the other crying old men and women, but something in her expression stopped him. His scanning device set him right.

‘Mr Delaney,’ the sailor said. ‘I understand you are fully mobile and won’t need my assistance, but I’m here as your personal navigator.’

‘Well, I used to be a gynaecologist and I drowned better cunts than you at birth. I don’t want your assistance. I’m no goin. Fuck off and navigate yerself back to common humanity.’

There were hoots of laughter in the lines and tears on the moving gangway. They were moving forward. When Delaney tried to step backwards his limbs froze and the sailor held him under the arm, upright, so he didn’t fall.

Elizabeth seemed disorientated. She gives a tiny start with a pained smile, putting her head to one side, apologetic, as her da made her way towards processing. She held up a hand as she stepped backwards and he edged away from her

‘You’re daeing their work for them,’ Dempsey said, before his voice box froze.

A tall and very thin young doctor in a black suit and black tie and black overcoat to keep out the chill of the waters smiled at Delaney. ‘Your pod's on the left,’ he said, smacking his arm  with a soft black leather glove.