The tired man heard the old fashioned alarum clock in the biscuit tin start it's heart-rending 'clang, clang, clang' as it heralded the beginning of yet another backbreaking day at the supermarket filling shopping bags for people that looked upon him as something they'd rather not have on the sole of their shoe.
Soul destroying, a seemingly lifetime away from the glory days of his post university graduate training scheme, a ticket to the big time, respect and a position of social standing.
The fateful day that ended up here, chapped hands, constantly berated for not ' double-bagging' and the ignominy of having to ask to use the toilet, flashed like lightening through his whiskey addled conscience.
It all seemed so easy, just a little lie, just a misplaced piece of paper and a briefcase of crisp notes in a trainstation locker were for the taking. How proud he would have been to show the wife his 'bonus', a hero to the children......
How could he have known that the snotty-nosed kid who's dinner money he took as an 11yr old had spotted him that first day in the insurance company's website restaurant.
It seems people have long memories and burning desire to seek retribution. He fell for it hook line and sinker. The police were even waiting on his train home as he daydreamed about whether he'd get the 50 or 55ft schooner.
After the arrest, disgrace, divorce and prison term, the only sailing he was doing was close to the wind of Jim Beam's bourbon Bounty.
Mr Christian shouting out that he was late and a disgrace to the uniform.......
Oh how he prayed for a force 10 from Navarone.
But no, 'clang clang clang' and another crushing day dawned......
He would have to look to another lifetime to sail the seven seas....... - maybe the Lutine bell would signify that he had had the last laugh.
In the background, the ubiquitous. 'clang, clang clang'.