"Littleford, Clare - Death Duty" - читать интересную книгу автора (Littleford Clare)

I knew he wanted me to continue smiling, to show him that I was my
usual self, but I felt slightly sick from the effort. I wanted him to
be quiet, to leave me alone, but I realized he had no intentions of
doing that. I didn't trust myself to speak.

He said, "C'mon, smile. At least you've got a week off work out of
it."

"Huh," I said. I put my hand up to my head and touched the sore patch
around the stitches on my scalp. "I'd rather be at work."

"You would," he said, shaking his head slightly as though I'd said
something he disapproved of. I wasn't sure if he was still joking or
not. Then he said, "You've got to tell me about it at some point."

I wanted to demand why, but my head hurt too much; the sound of his
voice hurt. I said, "Not now. Maybe I just want to forget about
it?"

"But you cant," he said. "You've got to tell the police."

I just shrugged.

"But this bloke could do the same to someone else. Or worse."

I stood up. "I'm going to have a bath."

He didn't say anything for a moment, but when I had reached the door,
he said, "Well, don't drown yourself."

I just flashed him a grin and went into the hall. As I climbed the
stairs I heard the TV come on, and snatches of programmes as he flicked
through the channels. I wasn't sure what he expected me to say, why he
thought I should be able to tell him exactly what had happened. I
realized that I didn't want him here at all.

I went into the bathroom, closed the door and started to run the bath.
It felt strange to finally be alone. I stood there, fingers on the
buttons of my blouse, and after a moment I went back and bolted the
bathroom door. I took my clothes off slowly. There was a small amount
of blood on the collar of my blouse, dried onto the fibres. I looked
down at myself, at the grazes on my legs and the bruise on my hip that
I hadn't felt until now, and finally I looked at my face in the mirror.
My hair was dishevelled, but I had expected that; it was matted with
blood at the back. There was a brown streak of blood on my forehead
that Alex hadn't mentioned, and my eyes were reddened and the rest of
my skin was very pale. I watched myself in the mirror, this woman who
looked as if she'd been through an ordeal, and I felt that I should
cry, I should show some sort of emotion, but I couldn't, I couldn't
bring myself to react that way.