Читать книгу Vulgar Things - Lee Rourke - Страница 14

I can’t remember my journey home. I figure I must have used the usual route. I just remember opening the door to my flat and the smell of something stale irritating my nostrils. I think I must have fallen asleep on the sofa, after making myself some food, as I have a vague recollection of being in my kitchen for a short time, standing over a hob, eating something from the pan before it was even cooked properly. Then blackness.

I’m interrupted by a persistent ringing, which becomes louder and louder in the blackness until I realise it’s my phone. Before I know it my eyes are open and I’m fumbling for it. I stare at it as it rings. I answer just in time. It’s my brother.

‘Where’ve you been?’

‘Something bad happened …’

‘I’ve been phoning all day …’

‘I’ve been asleep …’

‘All day?’

‘…’

‘Listen, I need to talk to you …’

‘I’m all ears …’

‘It’s Uncle Rey …’

‘What’s he done now?’

‘He’s dead … Suicide … Hanged himself.’

‘…’

‘It happened the other week, but no one knew. He’s been in that caravan all week … dead … I was …’

‘No one knew?’

‘No, no one … I was supposed to be travelling to the island today to clear things up. They asked me to come down, to clear his stuff, but I have to go to France to meet our new clients. I can’t get out of it …’

‘And …’

‘You need to go to the island … to clear Rey’s caravan, to go through his belongings and pack them all away … sort it all out before it’s removed.’

‘Jesus … Uncle Rey …’

‘It has to be done …’

‘Jesus, Cal … I don’t need this right now …’

‘Jon, please, it needs to be done … since Dad died there’re only us two, we have to take care of shit like this now.’

‘Fuck, Cal … Okay … I’ll go … I’ll go … I’ll do it.’

‘You need to go there first thing … You need to go to the Lobster Smack pub near the sea wall at the jetty and ask for the landlord, Mr Buchanan, he’s the owner of the caravan site, too … he has the keys …’

‘Right, right … Fuck, Cal, you owe me …’

‘I know … Like I say, I can’t get out of the France trip.’

‘Bye.’

‘Bye.’

I roll off the sofa and fall into a dirty heap on the floor. My ribcage is seized in a paroxysm of pain. The previous night comes flooding back. I groan and think about what I should eat for breakfast.