"David Garnett - Off The Track" - читать интересную книгу автора (Garnett David)

He unscrewed the fuel cap, unhooked the hose from one of the pumps and
slid the nozzle into the filler. Setting the trigger onto automatic, he
walked to the rear of the car.
"England, huh?" he said. "I spent an hour in Scotland once. The plane was
refuelling." He opened the back of the Volkswagen. "But I spent much
longer in Germany." He pulled out the dipstick, wiped it with a cloth,
slid it back, pulled it out again, nodded.
"They make these in Mexico now," said Michael.
"I know."
"That's where we hired this."
"I know." He closed up the engine. "They're beginning to build cars in
American again, I hear."
He turned to face Michael, looking him directly in the eye for the first
time.
Michael felt he had to say something. "Were you on holiday in Germany?" he
asked.
"In the army. I was conscripted in 'fifty-eight. Korea was over, and the
only war they had was the cold one. Ten years later, and I'd probably be
dead."
This time Michael could think of nothing to say.
The man shrugged. "It's all over now, I guess. We should never have been
there, should never have done what we did. But what happened to us should
never have happened, either."
The fuel nozzle switched off, and the man pulled it part way out. He
gently squeezed the trigger, rounding off the figures on the pump dial,
then replaced the nozzle in its slot.
"How much?" Michael asked.
"Twelve hundred bucks."
Michael counted out twelve vouchers and handed them over. He ought to pay
more, as a tip, but he felt guilty about doing so. If he added another
voucher, it would be as if he were trying to make up for what had happened
н- as though it were his personal responsibility. He wondered if he should
give the man a hundred dollars for washing the windscreen, and he opened
the other part of his wallet.
The man realised what Michael was doing, and he shook his head. "That's
okay," he said, and he turned to look at Angela. The dog was licking the
back of her hand.
"Angela," said Michael, "we'd better leave."
"We've got to go now, Duke," she told the dog, and she stood up. "Is there
anywhere we can get a cup of tea?" she asked the man. "A proper cup. Hot,
with milk and sugar."
"A cup of tea?" He smiled. "No, ma'am, I doubt it. But I've just made some
coffee, and you're welcome to a cup."
"We'd better leave," Michael reminded her.
"That's very kind of you," she said. "We'd love a cup of coffee."
"Come on through into the house." The man turned and walked away.
"Angela," said Michael, waving her towards the car.
"Michael," said Angela, and she gestured towards the service station. She
began following the man.
Michael drummed his fingers on the roof of the car for a few seconds,