The House by the Sea [antikvár]

Chapter 1 Old friends It was lunchtime. I'd been in the Jolly Sailor pub in west London for about half an hour, when I saw a man sitting by himself in a corner of the room. Although I didn't know his name I was sure I knew him from somewhere. He had grey hair and he was looking out of the window at the River Thames. I don't usually go to the pub at lunchtime, but it was the birthday of one of the other journalists at work. There were four of us. I asked them if they knew the man sitting in the corner. They looked over, but no-one knew him. I don't know why, but I just kept looking at him, trying to remember. Finally, when we were all about to go back to work, the man turned round and looked straight at me. He knew me, I could see, because he smiled at me. Who was he? Then I realised it was someone I had been at university with five years ago. I couldn't remember his name immediately. He looked so old. He started to get up from his chair and I walked over to him. As I got closer I remembered his name. 'Carl,' I said, 'good to see you. What are you doing here?' I held out my hand. 'John, what a surprise! It's been such a long time.' He shook my hand and then put both hands on my arms. 'It's good to see you. You know, you're the first person I've seen