The Lesser Bohemians by Eimear McBride Read Free Book Online Page A

then gets up and leaves and I, for only trouble it seems, get up and go as well.
    On the stairs down he says The designer’s a mate so I have to say a quick hello backstage but I won’t be long. Won’t he be offended you left? No, I made the effort, besides he said it was bad.
    Bang out. Sky gone to winter but still fanfares of sun. I’ll just have a look at the books while you’re gone. Don’t wander off, he says. I shrug. No, I’ll be five minutes that’s all     I mean it, don’t go home. But I turn on my heel. Into the book stalls and the so many books. What is he after? What am I up to? I think it’s called adventuring. So shuffle on in with the shufflers then lose myself in spines.
    And tick on the moment he reappears where I pretend not to see. His friend as tall as, not as thin, dark-skinned, older, earnestly discussing, the pair of them. His fingers negotiating something imaginary but stops with a loud Yeah, anyway. Then he looks up for me into the end of the sun. Pick me . There she is, over there so    til next weekend. There’s a form of an arms round and his friend laugh calls to me Watch yourself with this one, sheep in wolf’s clothing my dear! Terrible English! he shouts, walking backwards from him After all these years, you should be ashamed! then turning around warns Ignore him! with the concrete halving under his feet.
    Anything good? he asks. Lots, I say. So what do you want to do? What? You’re the one who wanted to leave, what do you want to do? He hmms at the river, casts about Okay    everwalked across the Hungerford bridge to Embankment? Not yet. Then I’ll show you my favourite view of London, he says as we go into the weeding dark. Where’s your friend from? Algeria, and France. Do you know him from work? That, and he was with my oldest friend. Not any more? No     he died. What happened? Cancer, he lights up Pancreas. Like my father. Really? When was that? He died when I was eight. Horrible thing to see, he says and I nod because it is.
    Up to the walkway under hulkish sky. Breeze licked and nerves cracking fissures inside as he points out Big Ben. Parliament there – look through the grating. At halfway he says Here’s London spread out for you. In the murk cold Thames still curling away. Lights just beginning across the city. All the stone world of it. Its stone face. Showing its towers and flanks and shapes, purplish in this light, and grey. And I stand, strick, by its great space, watching the boats til St Paul’s there, he says the Oxo Tower. Barbican. Pointing out places I cannot see, then can, because he stands behind Look along my arm. No there. No. There. Do you see? When I still don’t, he bends to see it how I see and I see all of it then. This is the most beautiful view I’ve ever seen, I say. Really? Better than Naples with those boats stretched out across the bay? Ah fuck. He remembers my lies. Sorry, those were all lies, I say I’ve never been there, or anywhere else. His elbow on the rail Well you’re a surprise, what did you make all that up for? I don’t know     to be interesting I suppose. How very calculating, he laughs And I thought you believed in love? I do but     love isn’t what that was. True, he says But what if I’d been a lonely soul looking for it? Are you? No, I’m not, and you’re not much of a liar – I guessed. This I concede, I’ve never been. Oh well, that means you’re probably quite good at the acting. I quick look up to see if he’s joking.He’s only watching though and in a moment says So, you just used me for your sexual gratification then? Well, I say It didn’t turn out to be that gratifying so perhaps I got what I deserved. Didn’t you get what you wanted? Didn’t you? I say. Sort of    it started out well enough but. You were hurting me, I whisper.