Читать книгу The Last Family in England - Matt Haig - Страница 26

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trouble

It was only when Adam told Hal, later on, that Grandma Margaret was going to live with us, that its significance started to become clear.

‘Dad, you’re joking.’

Adam sighed. ‘I’m afraid it looks like it’s the only option.’

‘But she’s still got the bungalow.’

‘It’s too expensive for her on her own. And anyway, your mum thinks she’d be better off here.’

Hal placed his peanut butter and Marmite sandwich back down onto his plate and swallowed what remained in his mouth. ‘But it will be a total nightmare.’

Adam went over to where I was standing, between the kitchen and the hallway, and tugged me forward, by the collar. He shut the door, to stop the words filtering upstairs. ‘Now, come on. Think about your mother. She wants her here.’

‘But I’ve got my A-levels. I’ve got to revise.’

‘Please, Hal. Don’t make this any more difficult than it already is.’ Adam was now staring out of the kitchen window, watching Lapsang as she sauntered the length of the fence’s top edge.

‘I don’t know why we’re all meant to be so bothered anyway. Grandpa wasn’t able to speak for years, not properly. He just sat there, wheezing away in the corner.’

‘Hal, you don’t mean that.’

‘If that had been Prince, we’d have put him down.’ I looked up at the sound of my name, feigning stupidity.

‘Hal, come on. Think about your mum, think –’ Adam broke off, hearing the mumbled voices of Charlotte and Kate upstairs. He looked at me and said: ‘I suppose I should feed him.’

‘No, Dad. It’s all right. I’ll do it.’

But I wasn’t hungry.

I just stared at my bowlful of meat and biscuits, trying to work out how to act. Who needed my support most? Was it Kate and Charlotte, tormented by what had happened? Or was it Adam and Hal, tormented by what was about to?

I had to be careful. It was a Sunday. Sundays were always danger-days, even at the best of times. The Family spent too long together, and spoke too much. But this Sunday was worse, the atmosphere heavier.

Tomorrow would be OK. I would be able to speak to Henry, my mentor and fellow Labrador. He would tell me what to do, he always had, ever since I had arrived at the Hunter household. Ever since I had been saved.

But right then I couldn’t focus. I sensed something was wrong but couldn’t quite put my paw on it. Grandma Margaret was coming to stay. That was bad, yes. Granted. But dangerous? Surely not. And yet there was definitely something amid the sad-smells, thickening the air.

The room around me was charged with a negative energy. The washing machine, the freezer, the vegetable rack, even my basket – each seemed like secret weapons in some invisible war. And that was when it became clear for the first time. Trouble was coming, and I was the only one who could stop it.

The Last Family in England

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