"Barker, Clive - Sacrament (b)" - читать интересную книгу автора (Barker Clive)

'I didn't mean that.'

'That's right though, isn't it?' she said gently. 'I never get to hear what life was like for little Willy Rabjohns.
That's because you don't want to tell me.' She was warming to her thesis now. 'You know . . . this is how you
used to be with Patrick.'

'Unfair.'

'You used to drive him crazy. He'd call me up sometimes and vent these streams of abuse-'

'He is a melodramatic queen,' Will said, fondly.

'He said you were cryptic. You are. He said you were secretive. You're that too.'

'Isn't that the same thing?'

'Don't get intellectual. It pisses me off.'

'Have you spoken to him recently?'

'Now you're changing the subject.'

'I am not. You were talking about Patrick and now I'm talking about Patrick.'

'I was talking about you.'

'I'm bored with me. Have you talked to Patrick recently.'

'Sure.'

'And how is he?'

'Up and down. He tried to sell the apartment but he couldn't get the price he wanted so he's staying put. He says
it depresses him, living in the middle of the Castro. So many widowers, he says. But I think it's better he's there.
Especially if he gets sicker. He's got a strong support group of friends.'

'Is whatsisname still around? The kid with the dyed eyelashes?'

'You know his name, Will,' Adrianna said, turning and narrowing her eyes.

'Carlos,' Will said.

'Rafael.'

'Close enough.'

'Yes, he's still around. And he doesn't dye his eyelashes. He's got beautiful eyes. In fact he's a wonderful kid. I
surely wasn't as giving or as loving as he is at nineteen. And I'm damn sure you weren't.'

'I don't remember nineteen,' Will said. 'Or twenty, come to that. I have a very vague recollection of twenty-one-'