"Robert Rankin - Waiting for Godalming" - читать интересную книгу автора (Robert Rankin)

"With the corner up,2 it is."
"Temporarily mine, then."
"That's a bit more like it."
Icarus smiled upon Friend Bob, and Friend Bob smiled back at
him, doing that business with the teeth. Although they had
known each other since their schooldays at the Abbey Grange
and were as close as best friends could be, it had to be said that
Friend Bob did not wholly approve of Icarus Smith. He knew well
enough that Icarus did not consider himself to be a thief. But he
also knew that Icarus was alone in this particular consideration
and that it was only a matter of time before the law's long arm
reached out and took him in its horny hand. Friend Bob hoped
that by subtle means he might one day persuade Icarus as to the
error of his ways.
Icarus Smith, in his turn, hoped that one day he might convert
Friend Bob to the holy crusade of relocation. And, after all, if you
wish to relocate a steam engine, it takes two. One to drive the
blighter and the other to shovel the coal. And Friend Bob, felt
Icarus, was a natural shoveller.
"What are you doing here?" asked Icarus Smith.
"Working," said Friend Bob. "I am the new washroom attendant."
"Well, you are a natural shoveller."
"It's an honest living."
"And the pay?"
"There's room for some improvement there." Friend Bob fingered
his left earlobe.
"You could always work with me."
"I think not." Friend Bob smiled. "So how are things with you?"
he asked. "How's the family? How's your brother?"
"Still barking mad. He thinks he's a detective."
"You'd better watch out that he doesn't arrest you, then."
Icarus drummed his fingers on the briefcase. "Tell me, Friend
Bob," said he. "If you could be anything you wanted to be in this
world, what would that thing be?"
"You know perfectly well what it would be. I would become a
successful artist. Famous throughout the land."
Icarus nodded. "But you don't feel that your total lack of artistic
skill might prove a handicap in this?"
"A considerable handicap," agreed Friend Bob. "But a man must
dream his dreams."
"Indeed." There was a moment of intimate silence, each man
alone with his thoughts and his dreams.
"So," said Friend Bob, when he had done with silence. "What do
you have in your briefcase?"
"Let's have a look, shall we?" Icarus lifted the lid of the case.
"Urgh," went Friend Bob, peering in. "Leather underpants, you
pervert."
"You are, as ever, the wag. Have you eaten your lunch yet?
There are some sandwiches in here."
"I have no wish to munch upon sandwiches that have been