"Ian Watson - The Thousand Cuts" - читать интересную книгу автора (Watson Ian)

The manager, cashier and waiter did so, quickly.
The momentary silence that followed was broken by the approaching wail of a police siren.

"I take it," said Hugh loudly, "that we are all hostages in yet another bungled terrorist escapade?"

"Be quiet!"

Out of the corner of his mouth, Don murmured, "Hush. You're most likely to get murdered in the first
few minutes. Then rapport starts building up. Just тАФ meditate. Do nothing."

"Zen and the art of being a hostage, eh?" Hugh whispered. He sat still as a Buddhist monk.

A police loudspeaker spoke, close by тАФ

"Don't come any nearer!" cried the upstairs man. "We have hostages in here! We'll kill them!"

Lumber jacket number two ran to the kitchen door and kicked it open тАФ




┬╖┬╖┬╖┬╖┬╖



Hugh's tongue moved inside her mouth. His finger traced the curve of her hip.

He pulled away instantly. He was naked. So was Alison. They were on the bed in his Chelsea flat.
Outside was bright with June sunlight.

Alison gazed at Hugh, wide-eyed.

"But," she managed to say.

"But we're in the Petrushka, Alison тАФ I mean, correct me if I'm crazy, but I wasn't aware that I'm
subject to bouts of amnesia! I mean тАФ how the hell did we get here? I mean, you can tell me, can't
you?"

"Hugh. I тАФ I can't tell you anything. We're in the restaurant. Those IRA men are тАФ at least тАФ I suppose
that's what they were. But we aren't. We're here."

Hugh sat up. Dumbly he stared at a newspaper lying on the yellow shag-piled carpet.

The headlines were: PETRUSHKA SIEGE ENDS PEACEFULLY.

He read the story, hardly understanding it. But he understood the accompanying photograph of himself
with his arm wrapped round Alison's shoulders, both of them grinning and waving.

"Just look at the date! June, the ninth. This is next week's newspaper."