Even the Dogs. Jon McGregorЧитать онлайн книгу.
the bruise-dark clouds of the blackened
He saw Sammy, down on the corner of Barford Street and Exchange Street. Saw him from the top of the road but he knew it was him, weren’t no one else it could be. That great long beard and the screwed-up eyes and the way he shuffled around like his feet were chained together or something. Called out as soon as he saw him. Sammy, Sammy mate, Sammy, near enough running down towards him in his usual spot on the corner with the benches and bins and flowerpots and that sculpture of fuck knows what. Sammy mate. Sammy. His voice ragged and breathless with the pace he’d kept up since climbing out of the window at the flat. Sammy pissing into a bin, waving fuck off over his shoulder. Sammy, mate, I’m looking for Laura, have you seen her, do you know where she is? Sammy turning and putting his knob away, wiping his hands on his filthy trousers. Staggering with the effort of focusing on Danny, his mouth opening and closing like he’d already forgotten the question. Danny kept moving, kept walking, couldn’t stop, looked away up Barford Street and back the way he’d come, headed off up Exchange Street and away towards the Abbey Day Centre. Not seen no cunt for days, Sammy called out, and Danny turned back to listen, walking backwards for a moment to see if there was anything more. Not seen no cunt for days, Sammy said again, almost to himself, sitting down heavily and reaching around on the floor for his bottle while a pigeon circled in from a rooftop, settled on the edge of the bin, and pecked at a sodden kebab. You can fuck off an all, Sammy said when he heard it, spitting in its general direction, the phlegm trickling through his beard as the pigeon flew up over the marketplace, the station, the multi-storey carpark and the office block and the long dwarfed spire of the
It was the wife was the problem. Tony’s wife. She had a long memory was the problem. Tony had been all right before. He’d let Danny stop round there sometimes. He’d sorted him out. They went back a long way and they had a what, they had a way of dealing with things. Like an understanding. But then he’d met that woman. Nicola. Nicolah-di-dah. Danny had turned up one time, hadn’t been there for months on account of some previous misunderstanding which would have been forgotten by then if it was down to Tony, but now it was different because she was there, Nicola, his new wife, and it was obvious she thought she knew all about him. Grabbed hold of her kids and took them upstairs, didn’t even say hello or nothing, left him standing there in the lounge thinking what the fuck have I done this time. Tony said Sorry but she’s just kind of nervous and that, with the kids and everything, you know how it is. Nervous was right. The way she swept them off upstairs like that she must have thought he was like what, infectious or something. Like he could pass on all the troubles he had as easy as sneezing. Aint that simple, Nicolah. Aint that simple at all. Takes years of
Had to find someone and tell them. Jesus, what was it, what had happened. Leave town for a week and you come back and he’s dead and everyone else vanished like a fuck like a puff of what like a giro cheque. Passed a phonebox on Exchange Street and thought about calling the police from there and telling them about Robert. Found some fag-ends on the floor outside and put them in his tin. Got as far as opening the door before he changed his mind because what was he going to say, what was
Where did you go when you left the scene?
Ran down the hill, went under the underpass, went into town.
Why did you run?
I didn’t run but I was like scared and that.
Scared of what?
Don’t know, I was just scared.
Where did you go?
Was looking for someone.
Where did you
Through the market, down past the Lion and the newsagent’s and the bookie’s. Straight over the main road and across the roundabout and round the side of the old boarded-up warehouse to the hostel where he’d seen Laura that last time. Buzzed at the door but no one answered. Looked up at the windows but couldn’t see no one there. Pints of milk keeping cold on the windowsills, trainers and boots hanging out to air, but the curtains all shut and no sign of anyone awake. Looked in through the office window and saw that what’s her name Ruth on the other side of the bars, clicking away on the computer with her face all lit up by the screen. Banged on the window but when she looked up she only pointed back at the door. Fucksake. Buzzed at the door again and some other bloke’s voice came out the speaker going Sorry, mate, we’re not open yet, usually you’d have to come back at five but we’re full tonight, is there anything we can help you with? I’m looking for someone, Danny said, I’m looking for a friend, she’s staying here, I need to come in and talk to her. Bloke goes What’s her name and when Danny said Laura he didn’t say nothing for a minute then he said She’s not here. She was here a few days ago, Danny said, where’s she gone. Bloke said I can’t tell you that I can’t help you, mate. Danny said It’s fucking cold out here will you let me in so we can have a proper conversation or what, like she must be here, she was going to stay another couple of weeks at least. I need to talk to her. Bloke said I can’t help you, mate, sorry, and if that’s your dog we don’t let dogs in either, and then he didn’t say nothing else even though Danny kept buzzing and buzzing and shouting into the speaking grille. Banging on the office window didn’t help neither, the glass was all toughened and anyway the bars were there and Ruth didn’t even look she just kept clicking away on that fucking computer and what the fuck was she looking at that was so interesting anyway and why wouldn’t they tell him where the fuck Laura had
Through the alleyway past the memorial gardens, looking for fag-ends among the rosebushes and cider bottles, round the back of the council offices, checking the parking meters all down past the tyre fitter’s and the sofa warehouse and then up the ramp to the wet centre. Which was shut over Christmas and had a sign on the door saying where else the regulars could go for help if they needed it. Only most of them didn’t want to go nowhere else and were just sitting it out in the doorway until it opened again. Knew one of them, Bristol John, and asked him if he’d seen Laura or any of the others and he thought about telling him what had happened to Robert. But it was too late in the day to get any sense so he turned and kept going, past the council offices, the housing office, the shops on Exchange Street and the tiny almost hidden doorway of the Abbey Day Centre. Didn’t look like no one was there except Maureen and Dave and that bloke who’s always in the corner and never says a word except Cheers when they give him a cup of tea. Maureen looked pleased to see him. She always looked pleased to see anyone. Looked like someone’s auntie or granny with her cardigans and her white hair and her glasses on a chain around her neck but she never took grief from no one. I’ll have none of that from you she said, if anyone tried anything on, and that was usually enough to do the trick. Made Danny a cup of tea without asking, and started on talking about Christmas and New Year and where had everyone got to, her words coming out in one mouthful the way they always did like she was scared that stopping for breath would give someone the chance to turn away. Which they often did. She was all right but she had a lot to say. Danny didn’t sit down. He couldn’t. He looked in the games room, the laundry room, the toilets, the computer room, and he paced back through the lounge each time to make sure, like maybe this was all some game, some trick they were playing, and they were going to jump out and go ta-dah and all that. But there weren’t no one there and no one jumped out and no one said nothing. Maureen said There’s been no one in all day, love, there’s been no one here since Christmas Day. She said We had a bit of trouble here on Christmas Day mind you, we had a couple of girls overdosing in the toilets, the ambulance men came and sorted them out but still it doesn’t look good does it? They should have known we don’t have any of that sort of thing here. It gave us all quite a fright, really. So perhaps everyone’s just keeping out of the way after that, do you think, Dave? We had the police in asking questions and everything, I mean. Or maybe they’ve all just gone off to that new winter shelter, maybe they’ll be back when that packs in. Maybe the tea’s better there, she said, looking down at the tea she’d put on the table for Danny, wondering why he hadn’t drunk it yet. Danny taking off his glasses to fiddle with the tape on the broken arm, smearing them clean again and Maureen going Have you not had those seen to yet, love? You want to get them fixed up, they’re half falling off your face. Bloke in the corner just watching them both, his eyes half closed,