Published 'Eldritch Tales' 1994
THE CHIMNEY-CORNER within which I guessed the drunk locals lolled was much more than the expression usually embraced. Such normal corners were full of smoke and senseless pub talk; at least those that people invented by Dickens may have frequented. But this one was tantamount to a separate room: a snug for midgets, walled-up within the elbow of the chimney-breast.
I was accustomed to visiting that hostelry quite regularly, stepping out through the clammy London smog like a fine gentleman, only too pleased to reach the bar counter and rub shoulders with the low life forms that were propped up thereabouts. I did wonder at the mystery of the snug built into the corner - I imagined the raging log fire in the adjacent hearth must've made it hotter than a pig-oven in there. The steamy goggle-eyed glass in the small hatch of a door gave no hint as to the likes of the hard regulars ensconced within.
One day, with the smog slowly settling upon the river, but leaving the streets relatively clearer for once, I decided that this day would be one for discoveries. If a new-born babe could master such thoughts, I could easily imagine its nativity being such a day. There! The public house was called the Palmer's Way - its sign swung slowly in the renascent breeze, blurred but, for once, discernible. Once inside the saloon, I was astonished to find it full of complete strangers: no hide nor hair of locals. Perhaps the usual topers were all squashed swigging in the chimney-corner, I thought; except, upon looking, there was no fireplace in view: indeed no chimney, not even a sooty stain on the floorboards. The nearest to an alcove was on the other side of the saloon, the dark shapes heaving within it I guessed being loving couples on the snog.
Leaving the Palmer's Way in my cups, I discovered that the city was no clearer to my eyes - even though a newborn sun was sparkling off the river waters. I sang a song about snogging and swigging in the snug, but that soon died to a whimper on my lips when I saw Charles Dickens himself swaggering by.
