Chapter 4

“Help me understand,” Benjamin started, leaning forward, “you don’t have the foggiest idea who you really are?”

“Well…no.” Walsh shrugged, offering an embarrassed smile.

“That’s hard to believe…” Benjamin murmured, shaking his head.

“Be that as it may, it’s the sad truth.”

A booming voice interrupted their chat: “What’s wrong? Don’t like our beer, sailor?”

Benjamin looked up to confront the owner of that annoying voice: a big, matronly woman towered over their table, hands on her broad hips. She was wearing an apron, the same hideous shade of orange as her hairnet.

“This is your second time here today, and you still haven’t drunk a sip of beer!” she grumbled.

Benjamin rolled his eyes, trying to think of an appropriate response.

John beat him to the punch: “The beer is excellent, as always, Mamy, and Captain Scott here will undoubtedly appreciate it,” he said, smiling, his hand lightly touching Benjamin’s. “As soon as we finish talking.”