"Tim Lebbon - The Origin Of Truth" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lebbon Tim)

him feel good. He glanced at her every now and then, wanting to do more but
knowing that there was nothing he could do. She knew as well as he that they
were not escaping, but merely prolonging the inevitable.

He thought about death, and tried to divert his mind elsewhere. "You okay,
honey?"

Gemma whispered that yes, she was okay, but she did not look up.

"So where are we going?" Lucy-Anne said to her hands.

Doug did not answer for a while. A recent signpost had pointed north to
Birmingham and Coventry, but their direction so far had been dictated by
chance as much as design. "North," he said, because away from France was the
best idea.

Lucy-Anne looked up. "Scotland," she whispered.

"Well, we could try, but it depends on fuel and—"

"No, we must go to Scotland! Uncle Peter lives near Inverness, we can go
there, he'll have us, he'll look after us." She was looking at him now, and
her face had come alight. He hated the false hope he saw there.

"Who's Uncle Peter?" Gemma said from the back seat.

Doug snorted. "Precisely."

"Doug, he's not a bad sort."

"You haven't seen him in over ten years. Hell, I think the last time was our
bloody wedding!"

"He's a bit eccentric, that's all."

"Does that mean he does odd things?" Gemma asked. "Only, I don't mind that. I
quite like people who do odd things."

"We'll go to see him, then," Lucy-Anne said. "Won't we, Dad?"

Doug nodded slowly, already beaten. They would go to see him, sure they would,
but what then? That's what was truly bothering him: What then? He had no
answer, and seeking it would make him give in, curl into a ball and die.

"Edgar Allan Poe's dying words were, 'Lord help my soul,' " Gemma muttered
under her breath.

"What?" Doug asked.

"Huh?"