"L. Lee Lowe - Mortal Ghost" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lowe L Lee)

Jesse stumbled over to the kerb, sat down between two parked cars, and folded his arms across his knees,
pillowing his head and closing his eyes. Sweat was still running down his face and chest and armpits, soaking
his T-shirt. He could feel Nubi's breath on his neck, then the silly dog's tongue. Only a minute or two, Jesse
told himself. He didn't care if anyone gawked, at this point didn't even much care if a driver backed into him.
Sarah had duped him. There must be a lesson in this somewhere -- a lesson he thought he'd learned years ago.
For the first time since Liam he'd let someone invite him home, and he'd been hungry enough -- naive enough
-- to go. What had she expected? A noble savage? Gratitude? Now she had run off and left him stranded
without his gear, without money, without even a piece of loo paper to wipe his arse. He ought to be angry or
disgruntled or something. All he felt was tired.

'Hey mate, y'OK?'

The speaker was dangling his car keys in his hand. Jesse must have drifted off for a moment, because he
hadn't noticed the man's approach. Jesse shaded his eyes, nodded, and cleared his throat. He rose and dusted
off his jeans -- no, Sarah's jumble, he reminded himself -- then regarded the man coolly.

'Fine. Just worn out from our jog.' He indicated Nubi with his head.

'Yeah, too hot for a run.' The man looked him up and down. 'Need a lift somewhere?'

Warning bells jangled in Jesse's head.

'Thanks, but we're OK.'

'Are you sure? You look like you could use a cold beer, maybe a fag.'

'I said we're fine.'

'Look, no offence. Just trying to help.' But he took a step closer.
Chapter 3 23

Nubi growled.

The man retreated behind the protection of his car, throwing back over his shoulder, 'Call off your dog, for
god's sake. It was a friendly offer. I don't want any trouble.' He jumped into his car and started the engine.
Gears clashed as he pulled out of the parking space and drove away.

Jesse scratched Nubi behind his ear.

'You might just earn your keep,' he said. 'Any suggestions what we should do now?'

A cigarette was OK, but Jesse didn't touch anything, not anything else.

'Does your dog bite?' a voice behind Jesse asked.

Jesse spun round, then grinned. A girl of about four or five was watching him from her doorstep, with what
looked like a dead badger -- but probably wasn't -- clutched limply in her hand. Behind her the bright blue
door stood half open to reveal a black-and-white checked floor and pale yellow wallpaper.