Читать книгу She’s Not There - Tamsin Grey - Страница 27

The sun was setting now, and Saviour’s face was glowing in the pink, spooky light. He was carrying a small wooden crate, and his fingers were still purple. Normally they were glad to see him, eager to let him in – but they both stood in the doorway, gazing out at him.

‘Hello, Saviour,’ said Raff, finally. Saviour nodded and cleared his throat, but instead of saying something, he offered Jonah the crate. His eyes were strangely pale: caramel instead of the usual brown.

‘Thank you,’ said Jonah, looking down. Plums, not blackcurrants; fat yellow ones, their skins breaking open, showing the squishy flesh. He turned and put the crate down, next to the petrol can.

‘Are you going to let me in?’ Saviour’s voice was very croaky and his breath smelt like Lucy’s nail varnish remover.

‘Lucy’s not here,’ he said quickly. ‘She’s gone to yoga. She’s only just left.’

Saviour looked down Southway Street, as if he might catch a glimpse of her going round the corner.

‘Are you having roast chicken?’ asked Raff.

Saviour shook his head. ‘Not tonight.’ The words were slurred, as well as croaky. He must have been drinking.

‘Is Dora going to die?’

‘Shut up, Raff,’ said Jonah. Saviour’s weird eyes fixed on him. His pupils were two tiny black dots, and it crossed Jonah’s mind that an alien had taken over his body.

‘You can come in if you want,’ said Raff. Jonah nudged him, but Raff elbowed him back and jumped down from the doorstep. ‘You can play Slingsmen with us, until she comes back!’

‘Good plan.’ Saviour took a breath and seemed to become himself again. He stepped forward, putting a hand on Raff’s shoulder, but then stopped. His eyes had closed and his mouth hung open, his bulldog cheeks sagging low. It was like he had fallen asleep. He must be really drunk, which was strange, because he was meant to have given up alcohol forever. Then his phone started ringing, from the pocket on his shirt, and Jonah and Raff both jumped, but Saviour’s eyes stayed shut. Jonah and Raff looked at each other as it kept on ringing.

‘You should answer it,’ said Raff, shrugging the hand off his shoulder and giving him a little push. Saviour’s eyes opened, and he nodded and felt for his phone. Once he had it in his hand, he stared at the flashing screen.

‘Answer it, then!’ said Raff.

Saviour nodded again and held the phone to his ear.

‘Dad?’ Emerald’s voice was small and tinny, but clear.

‘Yes, love.’

Emerald’s voice began to wail, and Saviour flinched, suddenly wide awake. He cleared his throat. ‘OK, love. Don’t worry. I’m on my way.’ She kept wailing, but he cut her off. Slipping the phone back into his pocket, his alien eyes came to rest on Jonah again.

‘Saviour.’ It was Alison. She had probably been watching them from her front window. Saviour’s face stretched into a peculiar grin, but then he covered his mouth with his hand, as if he’d realised about his breath.

‘Alison. How are you?’ he said, through his fingers.

‘Fine.’ She said it emphatically, folding her arms tightly. She looked at the boys. ‘How’s your mum? Isn’t it time you were in bed?’

Jonah nodded.

‘Good. Saviour, I was wondering if I could have a word?’

‘It’s actually not the greatest time, Ali—’ He pulled out his keys and looked over at his van, which was parked outside the Green Shop.

‘It won’t take a minute.’ Alison took Saviour’s arm. ‘Goodnight, boys!’

Back in the sitting room, they watched Alison and Saviour reaching the van, Alison talking and talking as Saviour put the key in the driver door. He looked over at them, and Alison looked too, so they ducked down and lay on the floor.

‘Can she tell that he’s drunk, do you think?’ Jonah whispered.

‘Is that what’s up with him!’ Raff got to his knees, and risked another peek. ‘She’s too busy cussing Mayo,’ he said, lying back down. They listened to Saviour’s van drive away, and Alison’s shoes clipping back to her house. Then there was just the tinkly Slingsmen tune again. Jonah gazed at Roland’s aquarium, remembering the bright, flitting fish. Four parrotfish, three angelfish and eight swordtails. The fish food had run out, so they’d fed them cornflakes, and they’d all died.

Raff sat up. ‘Who’s going to read us a story?’ His voice was very small.

‘I’ll read a story,’ said Jonah. ‘What story would you like, Raffy boy?’