Dead Men's s Boots читать онлайн
- Жанр: Легкое чтение, Фэнтези, Городское фэнтези
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Unless you want me to bring the mattress through for you.’
She shook her head, looking at me with an expression that was only a couple of hard knocks away from beaten flat. ‘I’m fine with the duvet,’ she said. ‘I’ll fold it like a sandwich and sleep in the middle.’
Seeming to reach a decision, she let the sheets fall to the floor and came back over to me. ‘Thanks for staying with me tonight,’ she said. ‘And for arranging everything. I don’t know what I’d have done without you.’
She kissed me on the cheek, and there was no tension or awkwardness in it.
‘It’s part of the basic service,’ I assured her, deadpan. ‘The de luxe includes lawn care.’
‘I haven’t got a lawn.’
‘Then the basic should suit you just fine.’
I helped her take the bedding through, then went back down the steps to collect the rest of the kit I’d brought with me.
I lingered out there, because there was something about the east wind heavy with unborn frost that felt clean and even refreshing.
‘We never seem to see you any more, Fix,’ she chided me. ‘Where are you working these days? In some terrible wilderness on the edge of civilisation?’
‘Southgate,’ I said. ‘I think the nearest civilisation is Wood Green Shopping City.
‘Good grief, you’re only twenty minutes’ drive from here! You’ve got to come over for dinner. Jules would love to see you.’
‘Well, I will.’
‘Tomorrow.’
Cornered. ‘Okay, tomorrow,’ I said.
‘Actually, could you make it Thursday? I’ve got the prayer circle tomorrow night.’
‘Thursday it is, then. Thanks, Sue. See you then.’
I hung up, pondering on the mysteries of the human spirit.