Lost Between Houses by David Gilmour Read Free Book Online Page B

themdown off the window. Sometimes I had to finish them off with my shoe, all buzzing around on the floor and pissed off. It made a sound like stepping on a small light bulb.
    Then I went out into the driveway and threw stones into the ravine; across the valley a dog barked from the Barrigers’ farm. A car drove along the small road on the horizon. It was very lonely out there, and I came back inside and went upstairs. I looked into Harper’s room, but he wasn’t very talkative. He was lying there on his bed with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. From a small maroon radio on his left, the ball game jerked along and halted.
    “What do you suppose happens to all those golf balls down in the ravine? I mean do you think they just
disintegrate?”
I said.
    “I’ve got to listen to this,” he said. “I’ll talk to you later.”
    I went on down the hall to my room, got onto my bed and opened my book. I was reading a James Bond novel, I can’t remember which one, but I flipped ahead to make sure there were enough pages left for the racy stuff.
    It must have been after one in the morning when the phone rang. I raced along the hallway in my socks, down the wooden stairs. I took it in the kitchen.
    “Hello,” I said.
    “I hope I didn’t wake you up.”
    “Scarlet?”
    “Jesus, you do have a good memory. What are you doing?”
    “I was just at a dance.”
    “Oh yeah?” she said.
    “Yeah.”
    “Meet anybody interesting?”
    “Yeah. Well, not really. You know, the usual stuff. What are you doing?”
    “My parents are away.”
    “Oh yeah? They on holiday?”
    “No, they’re in Los Angeles. My dad’s got a couple of movies opening.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah. He’s got to look after the movie stars. Make sure they don’t get too drunk. That kind of stuff.”
    “Oh yeah? Who’s he have to look after?”
    “Well, I think he’s going to have dinner with Steve McQueen. Do you know him?”
    “Have Gun, Will Travel?”
    “No, that’s what’s-his-name.”
    “Right.”
    “Anyway, they’re going to have dinner.”
    “Just the two of them?”
    “No, there’ll be other people there. I met Alfred Hitchcock once. When I was a kid.”
    “Really?”
    “Yeah.”
    “What’s he like?”
    “Not very interested in kids.”
    She yawned. Then after a pause, “You’re not one of those guys, are you? Keeps a lay book?”
    “What’s a lay book?”
    “It’s where you write down all the girls you’ve laid. You know, two stars for a feel, four stars for a home run.”
    “Hardly.”
    “I go to a French school,” she said. “In Quebec. I almost got kicked out last year. But they let me back in on account of my father.”
    “What for?”
    “This stuff got wrecked and I got blamed for it.” You could hear she wasn’t interested in going on about that.
    “So you’re not mad at me for calling?” she asked.
    “No, not at all. How’d you know my parents weren’t here?”
    “I didn’t.”
    “Well, what if they’d’ve answered the phone?”
    “I would’ve hung up.”
    “Oh.”
    “I’m not
stupid
you know.”
    Silence. “So your parents are away?”
    “Yep. I’m just here with my brother.”
    “Just the two of you?”
    “Yeah.”
    “You should come down here.”
    “I should. That’d be fun.”
    “No, I mean it.”
    “Like when?”
    “Like now. Right now.”
    “What do you mean?”
    “Come down here right now. We could stay up all night.”
    “I don’t mean to sound like a bonehead here, but how exactly would I get down there? Just for technical information.”
    “I don’t know. Hitchhike.”
    “At this time of night?”
    “Sure, there’s bound to be people up. Truck drivers and stuff.”
    “Are you putting me on?”
    “No.”
    “Jesus, I don’t know, Scarlet. What if I get kidnapped?”
    “You’re so conservative. It’d be fun.”
    “I don’t think that’s my style.”
    “No, maybe not.”
    “Well give me the address. Just in case. But I’m not