"Laura Hird - The Happening" - читать интересную книгу автора (Hird Laura)

"No offence or anything, but I didn't think much of your mate."
"What mate?" Was Marion lying to me? Was she here?
"Bob, wasn't it?"
"Bob, my boss?"
"Boss?" he chuckles in seeming disbelief.
"What about him? What was wrong with him?"
He looks at me as if I'm mad.
"Strangely enough, the recovery position for someone having an epileptic fit isn't throwing them out in the snow. Thanks for letting me back in, I felt terrible. Someone stole my medication when I was sleeping."
I return the joint to him, even more confused now.
"Where? Here? Someone pinched your medicine when you were here?"
"No, outside the shop, where you met me."
"What do you mean?"
"Argos, my room-with-a-view, you know? Phenobarbitones too. They'll end up having a fit themselves. Divine retribution, I suppose."
"Sorry, I still don't understand."
"That's where I sleep. It's compact but it's home, you know."
My jaw does a Gordon Brown. There's a homeless person sitting opposite me, a fucking down-and-out, drinking my Gold Blend. I picked up a dosser outside Argos in front of my fucking boss? This is ludicrous. "When did Bob leave?"
He's obviously amused that I can't remember.
"You threw him out after he tried to throw me out. You were great, my hero." He crosses his heart with his hands.
That's maybe not so bad. Bob was so pissed he was probably completely obnoxious. How could I forget someone having an epileptic fit on my carpet, though? Please make Bob have left before anything happened between me and the Artful Dodger. I don't even know his name and can't conceivably ask now. Downing my coffee I take the mug over to the sink, lightheaded from the drugs. He offers me another puff and I decline.
"No, no thanks. I'm going to have to get my act together. I'm going to my mother's. How about yourself?"
He shrugs, finishes his coffee and goes to get dressed. When he returns, I can't stand it any more, I have to know.
"So where did we meet you? I don't mean to be rude but my memory's gone."
Blushing again, he pulls on his filthy combat jacket.
"I asked you for money. Your pal invited me for a meal with the pair of you. He said if he gave me money I'd spend it on drugs. I've not had a proper meal in weeks, so thanks. It was my Christmas dinner, I suppose."
What a patronising bastard Bob is. What must they have thought in the restaurant? Two extremely drunk business-people and a tramp. To my relief, he walks towards the door. I'd feel such a heel having to ask him to leave if he's just going to be sitting in a shop doorway for the day. God, I've shagged a homeless person.
He kisses me as I unlock the door. Soap disguises the sex smell from earlier.
"Thanks for everything, pet. I don't suppose you'll want to see me again, but I want you to know you're a kind person."
Could it be that innocent? Have I actually done something extremely charitable? Bought a homeless man a meal, saved him from having a fit in the snow, let him stay at my house on Christmas Eve and given him what was probably his first fuck in years.
"I'll know where to find you if I do," I say, making a mental note never to walk up the South Bridge after dark again. As I wish him Merry Christmas and begin closing the door, he looks extremely perplexed. Don't let him ask if he can stay, please.
"One thing. I have to say it, I'm sorry."
Dread renders me incapable of responding.
"It's just... I would have preferred if it had just been you and me, you know, not the three of us. I only joined in because you asked me to. I don't usually go with guys. You won't think any less of me will you?"

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Laura Hird - The Happening
m1nion scan #8
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m1nion scan #2: Jeff Wayne's Musical Version Of The War Of The Worlds
m1nion scan #3: Everything But The Girl (Article from Arena Magazine)
m1nion scan #4: J Gregory Keyes - The Python King's Treasure
m1nion scan #5: Jack Russell - Channel 666
m1nion scan #6: Bill Randolph - The Sacrifice
m1nion scan #7: P Andrew Miller - After The Rainbow