"Quintin, Jardine - Fallen Gods" - читать интересную книгу автора (Quintin Jardine)

here." He took the card and the man's Mont Blanc ballpoint and
scrawled a signature.

"Thank you so much," the man exclaimed. "You've made my summer." He
turned to leave, then paused. "May I just say that I desperately hope
you play at least one more season. Will you?"

Ron reached up and patted him on the shoulder. "We'll see," he said.
"In a couple of months I'll know for sure."

"That was really nice of you," she said, as the fan made his way back
to his table.

"Comes with the territory; football's about guys like him, about little
men with physical limitations to the point of handicap, even more than
it's about the fat guys with dreams who dress up in the colours and
make jackasses of themselves every Sunday in the season. I'm always
available to someone like him. Besides," he added, with a grin, 'if I
ever do practise law.. . not that I'll need to ... he'll remember it,
and so will everyone in this restaurant who saw us."

"I don't believe you're that cynical," she said. "I know you, Mr.
Neidholm. You did it because you're nice, and for no other reason. Not
everyone's as devious as our Babs." She hesitated. "You were going to
say something about her when that man appeared. What was it?"

"Nothing. Or something that's probably best left unsaid."

"Too late now, big boy. Go on."

He sighed. "If you insist. I was going to say that she made a point
of showing me a photograph of you and a guy she said you had a thing
with, when you and your husband had marriage problems a while back."

"Cow!" she hissed. "I told her to get rid of that."

"So that was true?"

"Yes, it's true. Bob and I did break up at one point; I came back over
here to the States and I did have a relationship with someone. But
it's history, and so, very definitely, is he. God," she gasped. "Babs
really does hate Bob, doesn't she? Even now, she won't let go."

"Forget her," he said, firmly. "She was always like that, even years
ago. You're right; for a minister's wife, she's something of a bitch."
He picked up the empty bottle of San Pellegrino that lay on the table
and glanced idly at the label.

"Did they ever pin down what happened to him?" he asked.