"Ian Watson - Slow Birds" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watson Ian)

Three days later a slow bird was sighted out Edgeway way. Jim
Mitchum, the Edgewood thatcher, actually sought Jason out at the
sawmill to bring him the news. He'd been coming over to do a job,
anyway.
No doubt his visit was an act of kindness, but it filled Jason with guilt
quite as much as it boosted his morale. For now he was compelled to go
and see for himself, when obviously there was nothing whatever to
discover. Downing tools, he hurried home to collect his skates and sail,
and sped over the glass to Edgewood.
The bird was still there; but it was a different bird. There was no carved
heart with the love-tangled initials 'ZB' and 'EF.
And four days after that, mention came from Buckby of a bird spotted a
few miles west of the village on the main road to Harborough. This time
Jason borrowed a horse and rode. But the mention had come late; the bird
had flown on a day earlier. Still, he felt obliged to search the area of the
sighting for a fallen body or some other sign.
And the week after that a bird vanished only a mile from Atherton
itself; this one vanished even as Jason arrived on the scene . . .
Then one night Jason went down to the Wheatsheaf. It was several
weeks, in fact, since he had last been in the alehouse; now he meant to get
drunk, at the long bar under the horse brasses.
Sam Partridge, Ned Darrow and Frank Yardley were there boozing; and
an hour or so later Ned Darrow was offering beery advice.
"Look, Jay, where's the use in you dashing off every time someone spots
a ruddy bird? Keep that up and you'll make a ruddy fool of yourself. And
what if a bird pops up in Tuckerton? Bound to happen sooner or later.
Going to rush off there too, are you, with your tongue hanging out?"
"All this time you're taking off work," said Frank Yardley. "You'll end up
losing the job. Get on living is my advice."
"Don't know about that," said Sam Partridge unexpectedly. "Does seem
to me as man ought to get his own back. Supposing Tarnover did do the
dirty on the BabbidgesтАФ"
"What's there to suppose about it?" Jason broke in angrily.
"Easy on, Jay. I was going to say as Babbidges are Atherton people. So
he did the dirty on us all, right?"
"Thanks to some people being a bit slow in their help."
Sam flushed. "Now don't you start attacking everyone right and left. No
one's perfect. Just remember who your real friends are, that's all."
"Oh, I'll remember, never fear."
Frank inclined an empty glass from side to side. "Right. Whose round is
it?"
 One thing led to another, and Jason had a thick head the next morning.



In the evening Ned banged on the Babbidge door.
"Bird on the glass, Sam says to tell you," he announced. "How about
going for a spin to see it?"