Martin Sloane by Michael Redhill Read Free Book Online Page B

heard him, Molly. He said
whenever
. You heard him, right? I leaned down to him. Remember, you just said
whenever
.
    I heard him, said Molly, draining her drink. I’ll be back in a second. She got up and went back into the house. We watched her go in through the sliding door. She’d seemed a little put off.
    Are you even
drinking?
Martin asked me.
    I sat down on his lap. A little.
    She doesn’t need to see this nonsense. You’re making her uncomfortable.
    She can take it, I said. She’s Molly. Water off a goose.
    A duck.
    A duck, you’re right.
    Well, quit it. She came a long way to see you and you’re behaving very spoiled.
    Can I really come?
    Sure, Jo. I don’t want to fight about it anymore.
    No! Don’t give in! Tell me I can come because you
want
me to come.
    I do. I want you to come.
    Yayyy!
    But if you come, no complaining about how dull it is.
    If I’m bad, maybe you’ll have to spank me.
    Shush, he said. Molly was coming back out and she was in a smallish yellow bikini. We both stared for a moment, gobsmacked, before making a show of getting out of our chair and gathering things up, as if we’d fallen behind in an agenda only she recalled.
    Let’s find somewhere to go swimming, she said. Okay? It’s too hot.
    Sure, sure, I said. I’d forgotten how beautiful she was, gorgeous sleek black hair, and her long, generous body. I picked the beer cans out of the grass as she stood between us, towel folded over her arm.
    So that’s your workspace, huh? she said to Martin. Will you show me later?
    Actually, I said, Martin doesn’t let anyone in there. Not even me.
    Okay.
    She gets to come in once in a while just to keep the peace, Martin said, but it’s really a mess. He leaned in toward her and laid his hand on a bare shoulder. It’s nothing personal, he said.
    Molly smiled at him. No offence taken.
    He stood there, touching her, a circuit or two blown. When you’re finished fondling my oldest friend, I said, why don’t we go for a swim.
    They both laughed and Molly stepped away from him. A swim, he said. Good idea. And you’re coming to the opening tonight, aren’t you?
    That’s why I’m here! Molly said.
By invitation only!
    Then you’ll see a few of the new things then.
    Excellent. He began walking into the house.
    I watched him vanish through the door. I’m
sorry
, I said when he was out of earshot. We’re being obnoxious.
    Nonsense, said Molly. It’s great to see you guys.
    Well, we’ve got a lot of catching up to do, I said.
    Martin reappeared with my bathing suit and a couple more towels.
    You know what I was just thinking, Molly said to him. I was thinking about this one thing you made Jo. I’d love to see it again. I don’t remember exactly what it was … a hornet’s nest, or a honeycomb, she said. And there was one little hole, that if you looked in it, you could see in the middle a tiny doll wearing a crown. I always wondered how you did that, how it got it in there.
    I don’t remember that, I said.
    Well, I cut the nest open, said Martin. Along a line of cells so the cut would be invisible. And I hollowed it out a little and built a platform inside out of balsa, pinned the little queen there, and then I closed it up. And that was it. Pushed little pinholes through certain cells so the doll would be lit right, and hollowed one out to look down.
    The hornet’s nest? He nodded at me. The hornet’s nest. I
know
that piece, Martin.
    Okay.
    I stared at him a moment. I’m not going to get it.
    I didn’t suggest you do.
    I can’t fucking believe this, I said, and I ran into the house and went into my closet. I never threw anything out that he gave me; the artworks I kept safe, or put on display, but the mounds of detritus that he also gave me — little love tokens, things I thought maybe one day he’d ask after — remained in storage. In a minute, I’d found the nest and ran back out with it, and turned it in my hands, looking for a peephole.
    You’re lying, I said.
    That’s