Sex and Death by Sarah Hall Read Free Book Online

that there’s nothing left.’
    â€˜And you enjoy that?’
    â€˜Well, they enjoy that. They’re driven to it. I’m just a bystander to their quest. And I enjoy that . It’s old-school, but I like to watch.’
    â€˜So you are basically fun times to date.’
    â€˜I pull my weight, romantically. I’m not stingy. I supply locations. I supply funding. Transportation. I’m kind of an executive producer. I can greenlight stuff.’
    â€˜Nobody cums unless you say so, right?’
    â€˜That’s not real power,’ she said, as if such a thing was actually under her control. She frowned. ‘That’s bookkeeping. Not my thing at all. Anyway, I think the romantic phase of my life is probably over now. My options won’t be the same. Freedom.’
    â€˜Jail time?’ asked George.
    â€˜It’s not exactly jail for someone like me. But it’s fine if you imagined it that way. That would be nice.’
    George hated to do it. They were having such a good time, and she must get this a lot, but he was her last living blood relative and didn’t he merit some consideration over all the hangers-on who no doubt lived pretty well by buzzing around in her orbit?
    â€˜All right, so, I mean, you’re rich, right? Like insanely so?’
    Pattern nodded carefully.
    â€˜You could, like, buy anything?’
    â€˜My money is tied up in money,’ Pattern said. ‘It’s hard to explain. You get to a point where a big sadness and fatigue takes over.’
    â€˜Not me,’ said George. ‘I don’t. Anyway, I mean, it wouldn’t even make a dent for you to, you know, solve my life financially. Just fucking solve it. Right?’
    Pattern smiled at him, a little too gently, he thought. It seemed like a bad news smile.
    â€˜You know the studies, right?’
    Dear god Jesus. ‘What studies?’
    â€˜About what happens when people are given a lot of money. People like you, with the brain and appetites of an eleven-year-old.’ ‘Tell me.’ He’d let the rest of the comment go.
    â€˜It’s not good.’
    â€˜Well I don’t fucking want it to be good . I want it to be fun.’
    â€˜I don’t think it’s very fun, either, I’m afraid.’
    â€˜Don’t be afraid, Pattern. Leave that to me. I will be very afraid, I will be afraid for two, and never have to worry about money again. Depraved, sordid, painful. I’ll go for those. Let me worry about how it will feel.’
    Pattern laughed into her drink.
    â€˜Sweet, sweet Georgie,’ she said.
    It was getting late, and the whispering interruptions had increased, Pattern’s harried staff scurrying around them, no doubt plotting the extraction. An older gentleman in a tuxedo came out to their couch and held up a piece of paper for Pattern, at eye level, which, to George, sitting right next to her, looked perfectly blank.
    Pattern studied it, squinting, and sighed. She shifted in her seat.
    â€˜Armageddon,’ said George. ‘Time to wash my drones with my drone towel!’
    Pattern didn’t smile.
    â€˜I hate to say it, little George, but I think I’m going to have to break this up.’
    He didn’t like this world, standing up, having to leave. Everything had seemed fine back on the couch.
    â€˜Here,’ Pattern said, giving him a card. ‘Send your bills to William.’
    â€˜Ha ha.’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Your joke. That you obviously don’t even know you just made.’
    She was checking her phone, not listening.
    On the street they hugged for a little while and tried to say goodbye. A blue light glowed from the back seat of Pattern’s car. George had no idea who she was, what she really did, or when he would ever see her again.
    â€˜Do you think I can be in your life?’ George asked. ‘I’m not sure why but it feels scary to ask you that.’
    He tried to