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.Civil servants were probably the same all over the world, but the departmental mind was dissonant with the idyllic atmosphere of Dorchester.Harkman closed the Culture and Arts file, and leaned back in his chair, staring irritably at the opposite wall.He was blocked in every way.The work he was paid to do couldn’t be started properly, Julia was busy during the days, and even wave-riding was excluded from him.High tide came just too late now, at a time when he was supposed to be at his desk.The exhilaration of his ride of the day before was still in him, but his next day off wasn’t for another week, and it would be only towards the end of the week following that the wave would arrive late enough in the afternoon for him to take the time off.It was at moments like this, when his external drives were temporarily thwarted, that Harkman felt his inner compulsion the strongest.It was what he had talked to Julia about, that morning at the Castle: the unaccountable urge to be in Wessex, to live and work in Dorchester.But it was not only Dorchester and Wessex, because he was here and the urge had not been satisfied.Maiden Castle was the focus.He was obsessed and dominated by it.He could not walk the streets of the town without looking frequently to the south-west, he could not conceive of Dorchester without the Castle beside it, he could not feel at ease unless he knew in which direction it lay from where he was.Just as the States tourists prostrated themselves five times daily towards Mecca, so Harkman paid frequent instinctive homage to the low, rounded hill-fort overlooking the bay.Dwelling again on these matters renewed his frustration at the bureaucratic delay.As the days passed, Harkman realized that his own work would have to be set aside until he had investigated whatever records there were about Maiden Castle and its community.On an impulse, Harkman hurried out of his office, determined to go directly to the Castle, as if this alone would dispel the compulsion, but before he was halfway along the corridor that led to the front office he had changed his mind.He had already been to the Castle, and it had not satisfied the urge.He walked on, with less resolution than before.He passed through the front office and saw the usual line of States tourists, waiting patiently to apply for English visas.As soon as he entered Marine Boulevard, Harkman looked towards the south-west, like the needle of a compass swinging towards the north.He could see the Castle across the bay: the day was sunny and humid, but in the sky beyond the Castle dark clouds were lowering.A weird light seemed to surround the hilltop, a glowing golden green, sunlight on storm; Harkman could almost detect the thermal of rising heat, like the hypnotic power the Castle had over him, an invisible but detectable radiation, mystical and elemental.A high tide in the morning made it impossible for him to ride the Blandford wave, but it meant that the harbour was open all during the rest of the day, and when Harkman reached the stall he found it crowded with visitors.He managed to catch Julia’s attention.‘Can you get away?’ he said.‘Not until later.We’re too busy.’As she spoke, an argument broke out between two of the customers over which of them had picked up a fragile crystal vase first.The two men squabbled in a fast North American dialect, rich in Arabic words, incomprehensible to the English.‘Five o’clock?’ Harkman said.‘All right.If this has quietened down.’She turned away from him, and took the vase gently from the man who was clutching it.Harkman watched as she deftly intervened in the argument, clearly favouring one of the two, yet appeasing the other with a combination of flattery and the production of a slightly more expensive piece of merchandise.She spoke in English, and this itself had a calming effect.Harkman waited until both sales had been made, and then he walked away through the crowd of strolling tourists and went to the far end of the quay, overlooking the entrance to the harbour.He sat down on the paving-stones, feeling the sun’s warmth through the fabric of his suit, a reminder of the long timeless summer, and his incongruous preoccupations in this tourist centre.Many private cruisers were taking advantage of the tide, and the harbour remained busy until well after five
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