Mersey Marina
4 – 30 p.m.
April 17th
Inefficiently Cobb had not set the volume on the small digital alarm and though it flashed into action it made no sound. Cobb slept on in the warm bunk, lulled by the gentle action of the marina water.
It was too late that Cobb woke and seeing the time cursed his inefficiency. He lit a lucky, and put the kettle on. He noticed there were just two cigarettes in the pack and that the bag of groceries he’d ordered for the boat obviously didn’t include dinner of any kind. There were four eggs, two rashers and eight slices of bread from the small loaf left.
Coffee made, though instant, the kind Charlie hated, he went on deck to a river view close to sunset. He knew he’d have to stay put or leave the boat as it was. Charlie was essentially a comfort man. He didn’t fancy travelling at night and changing scene. The day was gone, why move on? The others wouldn’t have made London yet, he knew that. He flicked the cigarette butt into the Marina waters and mind made up decided to eat better. Some take away, a beer, one at least, a pack of cigarettes and he’d see if he could get a signal on the little TV.
Getting his coat and rucksack, with his weapon in it, identities and all useful tools of his trade included, he climbed off the boat, walked the boards, punched the numbers into the locked gate and headed into the city on foot.
The harbour watch man saw Charlie leave; he noted Charlie had his rucksack on him and figured him headed for a hotel. The Americans always did that. He knew the American hadn’t been off the boat all day and thought he’d be off for a night out.
As Cobb got on to the Nelson Street he found a convenience store, noting, further down the same road, a Chinese Restaurant doing take away. Ten minutes walk from the Marina, Charlie stocked up on useful and tasty supplies.