Читать книгу John Carr - James Deegan, James Deegan - Страница 30

17.

JOHN CARR WAS not a patient man at the best of times, and now – just as those special forces troops from Marbella arrived over Málaga, sixty kilometres to the north-east – he finally cracked.

‘Hey, George,’ he said, leaning over on an elbow. ‘D’you fancy a pint? I’ve had enough of this.’

George Carr turned to look at his father, eyebrows raised, mocking grin on his face.

The expression said, very clearly, How can you have had enough of this?

‘Nah,’ he said. ‘I’m good, thanks.’

‘What about me?’ said Alice, pushing those mirror shades off her eyes and squinting up at her father.

‘I’d love to take you, sweetheart,’ said Carr, with his best attempt at sincerity. ‘But you’re under age. We can’t break the law, can we? Your mum’d kill me.’ He turned back to George. ‘I said, Do you fancy a pint?’ he said, with meaning. ‘The correct answer is, Yes, I do.’ He stood up. ‘Come on, I havenae brought my wallet.’

George chuckled. ‘There’s a fucking surprise,’ he said.

He stood, brushing sand off his back and elbows, and off his Union Jack swimming shorts.

‘Watch your language in front of your sister,’ said Carr. He looked at George’s shorts and shook his head in disdain. ‘No class whatsoever,’ he said. Then, innocently, ‘And have you put a bit of weight on, by the way? 3 Para must have softened up since my day.’

‘Fuck off,’ said George, good-naturedly.

A slightly taller, slightly skinnier version of his old man, he was in the kind of shape you’d expect of a twenty-four-year-old Para Reg full-screw who was scheduled to undergo Selection later that year.

This holiday being his last blow-out before he got down to training proper, ahead of his journey to Hereford, Pen-y-Fan, and the jungle.

He looked down, and nudged his girlfriend with his toe.

‘We’re off up into town for a bit, Chloe,’ he said. ‘The old bastard’s shit drills have left him dehydrated. You coming?’

She groaned. It had been a heavy night the night before.

‘No,’ she said, sitting up. ‘I think I’ll go for a swim instead.’

‘Suit yourself,’ said George. Then he looked at his dad. ‘Come on, then,’ he said. ‘I’m in the chair. Again.’

‘Too right,’ said Carr, with a grin, poking his son in the ribs. ‘Tips on passing Selection don’t come cheap, fatty.’

‘Fuck me,’ said George, shaking his head. ‘Don’t you ever give it a rest?’

‘No way,’ said Carr. ‘Being this irritating takes a lot of practice.’

He laughed and looked at his boy, and felt an enormous surge of pride – a feeling that he knew was mutual.

The two men turned and started trudging up the beach.