Nomance T Price (latest novels to read .txt) đ
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A tall, slim man, notyouthfully dressed, although he looked younger than the fairies shehad met outside, handed her a glass of wine and asked, âArenât youLynneâs sister?â
âNo, Iâm Gwynneâssister.â
âGwynne?â The manexclaimed, delighted to hear the name. âI havenât seen the oldreprobate in two years.â He gave Carla a fond smile. âI never knewhe had a baby sister.â Carla stared at him and did not reply. Hissmile faltered a little, then, as in a dream, she heard him say,âAnyway, two years, eh? A long time. But of course, itâs so easy tolose touch with these jet-setting foreign correspondents. Andstepping on that land mine hasnât slowed him down one bit, has it?By the way, where is he now?â
Carla responded in aslow, even voice, âWho? Gwynne?â
âHmm, Gwynne.â
âAs far as I know heâsstill working at the EasyHomes DIY Superstore. But heâsliving with that Charmaine, so I wouldnât know for sure.â
âThe EasyHomesSuperstone?â The man said, his smile faltering once again. âIshe covering consumer issues now, or something?â
âNo, heâs an assistantin the Timber and Gardening Department. Unless his newbandâs been signed up for a recording contract. I expect heâd haveto leave if he started making albums.â
Carla couldnât helpnoticing how this simple statement stunned the guy. It was then shebegan to wonder how the hell this bloke in Ladbroke Grove happenedto know Gwynne. Her brotherâs social horizons seemed to haveexpanded even beyond Hammersmith. Perhaps he was a pop star now,after all.
That settled it, shewas never going to turn the radio on again.
âStrange, I brought abox of screws and some shelving only last week,â the man said atlast.
Carla stared at him.âThatâs interesting.â
He winced. âWell, whatI meant is, I went to the EasyHomes DIY place recently and,er, I didnât see him there.â
âYou wouldnât though,would you? Like I say, he works in Timber and Gardening, notShelving and Screws.â
âAh, that explains itthen. Timber and Gardening.â He was looking unhappy now.âTrouble is, we donât have a garden as such.â
Carla was unable toconceal her disgust. âThe oldest excuse in the book.â
âBut we do go to theodd concert occasionally,â he added, by way of an apology. âYou sayGwynneâs in a band? So then, thereâs a chance we may bump into eachother after all. That would be nice.â He cleared his throat. âIbelieve he used to be in a band before.â
âHe was in a bandbefore, yes.â
âIs this a new one, ora revival of the original?â
âNo. This lot work inthe warehouse too.â
âDo they? Crikey. A newband then . . . what kind of music do they play? âEighties classicsI expect.â
âNo. I think itâscalled Psycho House.â
The man gaped at Carla.He kept on doing that, didnât he? Just what was the matter withthis drip? She might be disorientated by drugs, but that wouldnâtstop her getting aggravated by a drip.
She snapped at him,âItâs just a racket though! No one will ever buy it, even thoughtheyâre called The Dead Dianas. I told him, a great name onits own isnât enough.â
âNo, I daresay itisnât.â The fellow murmured, just as if (of all things!) he wassorry that Gwynne would continue to be a miserable failure. Thatwas bad enough, but what he did now was try and talk up the swine!âYou know though, Carla, thinking about it, playing in a PsychoHouse band at his age, and with only one leg . . . well, itâs anexample to us all. Gwynne was always young at heart, triple bypassor no.â
âOnly one leg?â Carlawas affronted. âHeâs got more than that!â
The man wassympathetic. âNo, he hasnât, dear. It was in all the papers.â
âI donât read thepapers,â Carla assured him, like her life depended on it. However,she was already wondering how long it would be before Gwynne was onthe telly too. Might there be no escape?
âWell, I did hear hewas in denial. Which, in a way, is quite an achievement in itself,âthe man reflected. âStill, lets forget I mentioned it. In any case,heâs in a Psycho House band now, so it sounds like it hasnâtstopped him living life to the full. And did you say heâs settleddown with someone? Thatâs just brilliant. At long last, eh?Charmaine you say? You know, Iâve never thought of that as a boyâsname.â
Carla finally lostpatience with these imbecilities. âAre you on drugs too?â
It was a simple enoughquestion and yet the guy didnât seem to have an answer. Thatâs howfar gone he was. Carla gave him a dirty look and knocked her wineback in one. She needed it.
When she looked again,the weird, jumpy geezer was gone.
She turned a fullcircle, but there was no sight of him. Troubled, she examined hersurroundings again and began to wonder whether she had come to theright address. It was a strange place for anyone to live in. Barewooden boards and odd furnishings, many in buffed steel, made it insome ways reminiscent of Gerald Lyttonâs fancy clinic.
The thought of theclinic gave Carla a queasy sensation. She shut her eyes for amoment and waited for her stomach to settle down. When she openedthem again, she found a small, frail woman with huge glisteningeyes standing in front of her.
Carla looked the greasypixie up and down, but without comprehension.
It spoke, âHi, IâmTamsin. Feeling alright, dear?â
Carla handed Tamsin theempty wine glass. âJust so tired, really. I canât seem to sleepnights. Iâd like to complain, but Iâm scared heâll get angry and,you know, do stuff.â
Tamsin gave her aâknowing woman of the worldâ look. Carla knew this look well. Itwas affected by many of her customers in Kew. âItâs your neighboursis it?â Tamsin commiserated. âThey can be such noisy bastards,canât they?â
Carla frowned. âI havefabulous neighbours. Golden, they are. Theyâve both got Alzheimerâsand I never hear a peep out of them. No, itâs the doctor we have toworry about. He has to be stopped and stopped soon, before he ruinsmore lives.â
âThe doctor? MyGod, what did he do?â
âArtificiallyinseminated me.â
At that, Tamsinâsâknowing woman of the worldâ hit a brick wall.
Smiling with grimsatisfaction, Carla went on, âI wouldnât worry so much if it was mybaby
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