"Ian R. Macleod - Grownups" - читать интересную книгу автора (Macleod Ian R)

moan. Dad and the doc carried him to the spare bedroom. Mum followed them up
the stairs, then pulled the door tightly shut. Bobby waited downstairs in the kitchen
and watched the shadows creep across the scrubbed table. Occasionally, there were
footsteps upstairs, the rumble of voices, the hiss of a tap.

He had to fix his own tea from leftovers in the fridge. Later, somehow all the
house lights got turned on. Everything was hard and bright like a fierce lantern,
shapes burned through to the filaments beneath. BobbyтАЩs head was swimming. He
was someone else, thinking, this is my house, my brother, knowing at the same time
that it couldnтАЩt be true. Upstairs, he could hear someoneтАЩs voice screaming, saying
My God No.

Mum came down after ten. She was wearing some kind of plastic apron that
was wet where sheтАЩd wiped it clean.
 тАЬBobby, youтАЩve got to go to bed.тАЭ She reached to grab his arm and pull him
from the sofa.

Bobby held back for a moment. тАЬWhatтАЩs happening to Tony, Mum? Is he
okay?тАЭ

тАЬOf course heтАЩs okay. ItтАЩs nothing to get excited about. It happens to us all, it
...тАЭ Anger came into her face. тАЬWill you just get upstairs to bed, Bobby? You
shouldnтАЩt be up this late anyway. Not tonight, not any night.тАЭ

Mum followed Bobby up the stairs. She waited to open the door of the spare
room until heтАЩd gone into the bathroom. Bobby found there was no hot water, no
towels; he had to dry his hand on squares of toilet paper, and the flush was slow to
clear, as though something was blocking it.

He sprinted across the dangerous space of the landing and into bed. He tried
to sleep.

****

In the morning there was the smell of toast. Bobby came down the stairs slowly,
testing each step.

тАЬSo, youтАЩre up,тАЭ Mum said, lifting the kettle from the burner as it began to
boil.

It was eight thirty by the clock over the fridge; a little late, but everything was
as brisk and sleepy as any other morning. Dad stared at the sports pages, eating his
cornflakes. Bobby sat down opposite him at the table, lifted the big cereal packet
that promised a scale model if you collected enough cou-pons. That used to drive
Tony wild, how the offer always changed before you had enough. Bobby shook
some flakes into a bowl.

тАЬHowтАЩs Tony?тАЭ he asked, tipping out milk.

тАЬTonyтАЩs fine,тАЭ Dad said. Then he swallowed and looked up from the