"Philip Pullman - Dark Materials 02 - The Subtle Knife" - читать интересную книгу автора (Pullman Philip)

"We haven't got any family. Only us. And the neighbors are too busy."

"What about the social services? I don't mean to put you off, dear, butтАФ"

"No! No. She just needs a bit of help. I can't do it myself for a little while, but I won't be long. I'm going
to ... I've got things to do. But I'll be back soon, and I'll take her home again, I promise. You won't have
to do it for long."

The mother was looking at her son with such trust, and he turned and smiled at her with such love and
reassurance, that Mrs. Cooper couldn't say no.

"Well," she said, turning to Mrs. Parry, "I'm sure it won't matter for a day or so. You can have my
daughter's room, dear. She's in Australia. She won't be needing it again."

"Thank you," said Will, and stood up as if he were in a hurry to leave.

"But where are you going to be?" said Mrs. Cooper.

"I'm going to be staying with a friend," he said. "I'll phone up as often as I can. I've got your number. It'll
be all right"

His mother was looking at him, bewildered. He bent over and kissed her clumsily.

"Don't worry," he said. "Mrs. Cooper will look after you better than me, honest. And I'll phone up and
talk to you tomorrow."

They hugged tightly, and then Will kissed her again and gently unfastened her arms from his neck before
going to the front door. Mrs. Cooper could see he was upset, because his eyes were glistening, but he
turned, remembering his manners, and held out his hand.

"Good-bye," he said, "and thank you very much."

"William," she said, "I wish you'd tell me what the matter isтАФ"

"It's a bit complicated," he said, "but she won't be any trouble, honestly."

That wasn't what she meant, and both of them knew it; but somehow Will was in charge of this business,
whatever it was. The old lady thought she'd never seen a child so implacable.

He turned away, already thinking about the empty house.

The close where Will and his mother lived was a loop of road in a modern estate with a dozen identical
houses, of which theirs was by far the shabbiest. The front garden was just a patch of weedy grass; his
mother had planted some shrubs earlier in the year, but they'd shriveled and died for lack of watering. As
Will came around the corner, his cat, Moxie, rose up from her favorite spot under the still-living
hydrangea and stretched before greeting him with a soft meow and butting her head against his leg.

He picked her up and whispered, "Have they come back, Moxie? Have you seen them?"
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