On Chasing Brad Through Purgatory by Stephen Benatar Read Free Book Online

“And is that what goes down in my report?” I asked. “Awkward cuss?” Brad had sometimes called me ornery.
    â€œOh you’d be surprised at what goes down in your report! But don’t tell me that finally you may be almost ready to come in?”
    â€œYet only for a minute or two; I’m afraid I can’t stay.”
    He laughed.
    â€œA minute or two may prove to be something of an understatement,” he said. “But only a small one.”
    â€œWhy do I get the feeling that if anyone actually spent the night here you’d class him as a resident?”
    â€œIn fact I’d say—what?—thirty minutes ought to do it comfortably.”
    â€œDo what?”
    â€œSee to things before you have to start back.”
    â€œ Back? ”
    â€œBack to where you’ve just come from.”
    â€œBut I thought you said …” Already? The resurgence of distrust? “Said that if I turned away now …”
    â€œBeing ordered back is scarcely the same as turning away of your own accord. And besides. It’s purely on a temporary basis; very temporary. But the thing is—you’re wearing an article of stolen clothing.”
    For the first instant I didn’t even understand his reference.
    â€œ This? ”
    As my thumb and finger plucked at the worthless gabardine my tone betrayed equal amounts of distaste and incredulity.
    â€œSurely it isn’t going to ruin anybody’s life: the lack of this ? Or even mildly inconvenience it?”
    â€œYou don’t know that. And the fact remains—it’s stolen property.”
    â€œThen the gown I’m wearing underneath must also count as stolen property. Only think how that’ll delay my return—I mean my return here —when I get arrested and charged with streaking!” In all honesty I found the prospect slightly titillating.
    â€œThe gown is standard hospital issue,” observed Richard. “No problem about that.”
    â€œI’m not too sure I follow your distinction.”
    â€œAnd in any case you’re now going to be given some new clothes. Let’s find Hermione.”
    Hermione turned out to be the housekeeper: a young and pretty woman who took me to a storeroom on the second floor. “The clothing here is all quite basic,” she said, “though certainly well enough made. If I were you I’d go at present for something as simple as jeans and T-shirt and trainers.”
    Underpants and socks were also supplied and then she left me on my own to change. When I ran back downstairs she was sitting in the manager’s office drinking coffee with him. She had poured a cup for me as well. Richard surveyed me in my new garb. “Bit tight across the chest?” he suggested.
    â€œI like a T-shirt tight across the chest.” I realized that I was being brazen and hoped I hadn’t blushed—but to thine own self be true ; that’s what Brad had many times advised me. “Why else d’you suppose I work out twice a week? Used to work out twice a week?”
    â€œNothing to stop you carrying on with it,” Richard observed mildly. “If that’s what you have a mind to do.”
    â€œYet you’re wanting to say—exhibitionistic. Naff. Aren’t you?”
    â€œNot a bit of it,” he grinned.
    â€œI get the feeling that you yourself probably work out.”
    â€œBut I don’t pick T-shirts a size too small.”
    â€œIs it sinful to be naff?”
    â€œNot altogether cool maybe. But not really any major sin either.”
    Hermione looked at him and laughed. “Oh come off it Rickie! It’s not a sin at all and well you know it.” To me she said: “You go with whatever makes you feel right. If you ask me I think you look just fine.”
    â€œOh vanity vanity,” said the manager. And gave his head a mournful shake. Reminding me of Brad.
    But she seemed pretty much as bolshie as