Читать книгу Of Things Gone Astray - Janina Matthewson - Страница 24

AFTER A WHILE ROBERT DECIDED to call his assistant. Assistants were supposed to always know what was going on, so Derek would know. It was Derek’s job to know. He pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contact list. He was halfway through the Fs before he realised he’d gone too far. He scrolled back up. Derek’s name wasn’t there. This was obviously ridiculous, it had been there yesterday; he’d hardly have deleted it. You don’t delete your assistant’s number, otherwise how can you call him when you’ve sent him out somewhere and tell him to bring you back an almond croissant? You can’t. He looked again. There was no Derek. Derek was gone. Feverishly, he scrolled through the names on his phone, looking for his boss, his intern, the receptionist, but none of them were there. His colleagues were gone. Work was gone. Everything was gone.

Robert walked back down the street in a daze. He wandered past buildings that had not disappeared, through crowds of people who would manage to arrive at their destinations. He didn’t stop until he reached the river. He sat on a bench and stared in front of him.

Slowly the foot traffic that passed him changed from harried business people into slowly meandering tourists. A young couple approached him and asked for directions.

‘I told you,’ the girl said, elbowing the boy in the ribs. ‘You should always listen to me.’

‘OK, OK,’ the boy said. ‘I mean, I’m sure you’re right about that, maybe, but I’m probably not going to.’

Robert stared after them as they walked away. He got out his phone and stared at it, suddenly frightened. Derek had vanished from it, what if Mara had too? What if he’d go home to find his house had vanished as well, and Mara and Bonny with it? Robert once again scrolled through the contacts list on his phone. Mara. There she was. Mara. His torchbearer.

He called her but it went to voicemail. Of course it did, he thought, he ought to have known better; she hated being interrupted, she would have left her phone upstairs where it wouldn’t distract her.

Robert sat and stared at the Thames. He got up and walked along it and sat on another bench. He crossed over and walked back up the other side. He browsed the gift shops of the theatres and art galleries. He sat at a rickety table outside and drank a burnt coffee. He walked over to the river again and stared down into its muddy dullness. He wandered away.

It wasn’t until a few hours later that he came across a tube station and decided to go home.