Читать книгу The Book of Rapture - Nikki Gemmell - Страница 16

The three of them spin, talking through the bewilderment.

‘Look. The bed’s wider than it’s long …’

‘… which only happens when you’re rich.’

‘The coat hangers in the cupboard are really stubborn …’

‘… they won’t come off.’

‘The shower head’s as big as a dinner plate …’

‘You know, I don’t think Mum and Dad have anything to do with this. It’s all too … careful.’

‘They’re not here. Anywhere. They’re not. I know it.’

At Mouse’s bitter conclusion, absolute quiet. Because they’re utterly alone. And the realisation is like stepping from the warmth of a fire-toasty house into the formal cold of a deep winter night. Tidge paces the room. Brushes the walls. Recoils. Too cold, too soundproofed. Mouse slides down the door, his hands cupped in horror at his mouth. Your worrier, always thinking too much. His anxiety’s demanding like a toddler fresh from sleep.

‘The window!’ Tidge exclaims suddenly. They scramble.

A street. An old office building across the road. The eyes of its empty windows as blank as the freshly dead. Everything abandoned, everything quiet. Traffic lights changing but no traffic anywhere, not a car, not a bike. Endlessly and obediently the traffic lights changing but no people anywhere. No life.

‘It feels like the proper world has stopped,’ Tidge says quietly, in wonder, pressing into thick glass that doesn’t bend.

‘Like we’re the last ones left,’ his twin brother whispers.

Soli shivers like a pony. As do you.

For the world has lost its youth, and the times begin to wax old.