The bulkheads of the ferry are what passes for mahogany, though probably stained pine, and the surfaces are mostly formica. The brass-furnished doors to the toilets start six pre-metric inches above the deck, for disabled access isn’t an agenda item at the steam packet company’s board meetings.
Inside the toilets, which most of the crew cling to calling ‘the heads’, Daniel faces the wood-framed mirror and shaves his chin of its adolescent fluff. The ship lurches; the razor takes 1/32nd of skin away with it.
When Daniel re-joins the family to start the descent to the vehicle deck and the waiting coach, he is clean-shaven. He chin is spotted with blood-stained flecks of Izal toilet paper, but he is clean shaven. One has standards.
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