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

didn't say anything. I turned away from him I didn't want to confirm
that I knew what he was thinking. And why should I have all of the
answers right away? Alex might think he knew it all, Alex might think
he was a cool-headed professional who could handle anything, but that
didn't mean I had to be the same as him. I couldn't avoid his gaze for
ever. I didn't want to. I wanted to explain, but I didn't know what
there was to explain. I wanted to make Alex see, get him to understand
how determined the attacker had been, get him to understand the
expression on the boy's man's -face. Even as I thought about that
determination, his concentration, I had the strangest feeling that I
could have prevented it, if I had only come up with the right words at
the time. I could remember him coming up beside me I could remember
that I didn't see him come, I was just suddenly aware of his presence
at my elbow as I walked along the street. And then I could picture his
face, and his anorak with the rip in the sleeve, showing the white
stuffing under the black outer material, and his blue tracksuit
bottoms, dirty around the knees. I saw his dark eyes, and his dark
hair brushed forwards over the top of his forehead, the traces of acne
around his mouth, his slightly crooked front teeth. The anorak was too
big for him and the sleeves hung down over his hands, I could remember
that. He had tried to speak to me, but I had kept walking, towards the
shop doorway. What had he been trying to say? But I couldn't answer,
I didn't know.

Three

Alex ex drove me home. I sat in the passenger seat, resting the side
of my head against the window. The glass was cool to my skin, and I
felt the throb of the engine vibrating as he moved through the gears.

I looked out. Night was falling; the street lights cast an orange glow
that glinted off chrome and glass. Most of the traffic was heading in
the opposite direction, out of Nottingham, and I imagined us turning
and following, leaving the city behind. I didn't want to be surrounded
by all the red brick, by the tall terraced houses sagging against their
age, and all the warehouses and factories, and the boarded and
shuttered shops. I could see youths hanging around on street corners,
smoking and drinking, laughing to each other, and any one of them could
have attacked me. I wanted to be a long way away, somewhere where
Nottingham was a distant memory, somewhere green and wild with a great
expanse of sky.

But I didn't say anything, and Alex kept driving. Soon, we were
turning into my road, and parking outside my house, and I was tired, so
very tired. I let Alex take my arm and walk me up the front path. I
leaned against the wall while he searched for his key. My keys were in
my handbag in my desk drawer at work, and I nearly joked that it was
lucky I hadn't taken his set back when he moved out, but I said nothing
instead.