Necrophenia by Robert Rankin Read Free Book Online Page A

patrolled today’s bus cared nothing for my tragic plight and demanded I fork out my penny-halfpenny without further ado.
    Which left me no option but to shout ‘stop that dog’ and leap from the bus at the next traffic lights.
    And travel the rest of the way on foot.
    So I had worked up a really healthy appetite by the time I got to the Wimpy Bar.
    I could spend time describing the interior of the Wimpy Bar, but what would be the point? You either know what it looks like, or you don’t. So to speak.
    Neil was already there. And so was Rob and they were sharing a chocolate-nut sundae, with extra nuts.
    I seated myself in my favourite seat, yawned a bit and stretched and gave my young belly a bit of a rub. ‘Give us a spoonful of that,’ I said.
    ‘No,’ both Neil and Rob agreed.
    And I had to order my own.
    ‘Why do we always have the dessert first?’ I asked as I tucked into it. ‘Surely one should have the main course first.’
    ‘I’m sure one should,’ said Rob. And he chuckled.
    ‘Are you chuckling at me?’ I asked him, pointing with my spoon.
    ‘Yes,’ said Rob. ‘I am. Do you want to make something of it?’
    ‘Do you want a fight?’ I asked him. ‘And if so, why?’
    ‘Why?’ said Rob. ‘Why? You know why.’
    ‘I don’t,’ I said. And I noticed Neil moving the chocolate-nut sundae that he had been sharing with Rob somewhat closer to himself.
    ‘What is this all about?’ I asked of Rob. ‘What have I done to you?’
    ‘You signed me up to something with a maniac,’ said Rob. ‘While I was out cold. And what was that about? What happened to me last night?’
    ‘You came over a little queer,’ I said, hoping to lighten the situation with a cheeky little double entendre.
    ‘Outside,’ said Rob, rising from his chair.
    ‘No,’ I said. ‘No. My dessert will melt. Or Neil will eat it.’
    ‘Are you having a go at me now?’ asked Neil, rising also.
    ‘No,’ I said. ‘No. I’m not having a go at anyone. And I’m not fighting anyone. We’re friends. Aren’t we?’
    ‘Something weird happened last night,’ said Rob, who was showing no signs of sitting down again. ‘It was before ten, then suddenly it was midnight.’
    ‘I noticed that,’ I said.
    ‘Shut up!’ said Rob.
    ‘But I-’
    ‘There was something weird,’ said Neil. ‘My watch stopped at midnight and my watch never stops. It’s an Ingersoll and I wind it religiously.’
    ‘What, in church?’ I asked.
    ‘I will hit you,’ Neil said in ready reply.
    ‘Oh, come on, lads,’ I said and I raised calming open hands to them. ‘We’re friends – we shouldn’t be behaving like this. And we’ll get thrown out of here. And that won’t be cool.’
    Rob made serious fists. And he shook them at me. And then he sat down.
    ‘That’s better,’ I said. And I sat down. ‘And you, Neil,’ I said. And Neil sat down and I felt better.
    Though they both now glared at me.
    ‘I don’t understand this,’ I said. ‘Why are you so angry? And why are you so angry at me? We all signed Mr Ishmael’s contract.’
    ‘You moved my hand,’ growled Rob.
    ‘We all moved it,’ I said. ‘Not just me.’
    Rob made a more than furious face. ‘And you didn’t know anything about this madman. He turns up unannounced, a total stranger, and you sign us all away, to what?’
    ‘To fame and fortune,’ I said. ‘It was the chance of a lifetime. We would have been stupid to have passed it up.’
    ‘And do you have a copy of this contract onto which you forged my signature?’
    ‘Not as such,’ I said. Carefully.
    ‘Not at all,’ said Neil.
    ‘And do you have this Mr Ishmael’s address?’
    ‘I think he said he’d contact us,’ I said. ‘That was what he said, wasn’t it, Neil?’
    Neil shrugged, and ate as he shrugged.
    ‘It will all be okay,’ I said to Rob. ‘We will all be famous. We will all be millionaires.’
    ‘We’ll never see him again,’ said Rob. ‘You have signed away our very souls. I just know