"Robert Rankin - Brentford 04 - The Sprouts Of Wrath" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rankin Robert)

was a cold and slippery little customer. 'No,' said John. 'We'll do them off in Baling, at the King's Head or the Fly's
Home.'
'As you please.'
Omally finished his coffee and refilled his cup from the snazzy-looking percolator. 'How are the accounts shaping
up?' he asked, in a tone of casual enquiry.
Jim raised an eyebrow of his own. He was well aware that the Irishman had logged within his curly head the

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dismal sum of their current assets. 'If this business was legitimate,' he sighed, 'we would be in for a tax rebate.'
Omally shook his head. 'Sometimes I think that we slave away so hard in our attempts to avoid honest toil
that we shall work ourselves into an early grave through the effort.'
'You are not suggesting we . . .' Pooley spoke the dreaded words in a whisper, 'get a jobT
Omally winked. 'Not a bit of it. We are free men, are we not? And is freedom not the most valuable possession a
man can own?'
'Well. . .' said Jim. A sudden image of Jennifer Naylor's Porsche unaccountably filled his mind. 'Well
'Of course it is,' Omally went on. 'We live life to the full and do you know why we do it?' Pooley thought that he
did, but suspected he would not get the opportunity to say so. 'We do it for the crack,' said Omally, confirming Jim's
suspicion.
'Ah!' said that man, 'the crack, that lad.'
That lad indeed and,' said John, who was evidently in loquacious spirits, 'I will tell you something more.'
'I have no doubt of it.'
'At ten o'clock, Jim, you will walk into Bob the bookies.'
'I always do.'
'But today will be different.'
'It always is.'
'Because today you will place a bet which on the face of it will appear so ludicrous that he of the golden gonads will
rock to and fro upon his chair doubled up with laughter.'
'He always does,' said Jim.
'You will ask him what odds he will give you,' John continued, 'and between the tears of mirth he will say
something like ten thousand to one, possibly even more if he is feeling particularly rash,'
Jim scratched at his head. Ten thousand to one?' he queried.
'At the very least, you will bet ten pounds, and pay the tax.'

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Ten pounds?' Pooley clutched at his heart. 'All at once? Ten pounds?'
Omally nodded, 'I myself will wade in with a oncer.'
'A oncer?'
'Certainly, to show that I have the courage of my convictions. Ex unque leonem, as the French will have it.'
Here he pulled from his pocket the said groat note, which by its appearance was evidently a thing of great senti-
mental value, and presented it to Pooley.
'Gosh!' said Jim. 'All this and money too.'
'No idle braggart, I.'
'Perish the thought. But do tell me, John, exactly what shall I be betting on?'
'You will be betting on a sure thing.'
'Ah,' said Jim, without conviction, 'one of those lads.'
'One of those very lads. Straight from the horse's mouth this very morning. A little bird whispered it into my ear
and I do likewise into yours.'
'You seem to hold considerable sway with the animal kingdom.'
'It is a sure thing.'
'At ten thousand to one?'