"Robert Rankin - Brentford 01 - The Antipope" - читать интересную книгу автора (Rankin Robert)

'Away into the night boy,' the other replied.
'We'll call it ten bob then.'
'We'll call it a good try and forget about it.'
Jim Pooley grudgingly patted his pockets, to the amazement of all present including himself he withdrew a pound
note. Neville pulled Jim Pooley another pint and taking the pound note with both hands he carried it reverently to
the till where he laid it as a corpse to rest. Jim Pooley counted and recounted his change. The terrible knowledge that
Jim had the price of two more pints within his very pockets made Omally more companionable than ever.
'So how's tricks, then, Jim?' asked the Irishman, although his eyes were unable to tear themselves away from
Pooley's waistcoat pocket.
'I have been experiencing a slight cash flow problem,' said Pooley. 'In fact, I am on my way now to pay several
important and pressing debts which if payment was deferred by even minutes might spell doom to certain
widely known political figures.'
'Ah, you were always a man of strong social conscience, Jim.'
Pooley nodded sagely. 'You yourself are a man of extraordinary perception at times, John.'

14
 'I know how to call a spade,' said John Omally.
'That you do.'
Whilst this fascinating conversation was in progress Neville, who had now become convinced that the ill-
favoured tramp had never left the Flying Swan but was hiding somewhere within awaiting closing time to rifle the
till, was bobbing to and fro about the bar squinting into dark and obscure corners and straining his eyes about the
upper portions of the room. He suddenly became aware that he was being observed.
Til just go and check the pumps,' he muttered, and vanished down the cellar steps.
Pooley and Omally drank a moment in silence. 'He has been having visions,' said Jim.
'Has he?' said John. 'An uncle of mine used to have visions. Said that a gigantic pig called Black Tony used to
creep up on him and jog his arm when he was filling in his betting slips - blamed that pig for many a poor day's sport,
did my uncle.'
'It's tramps with Neville,' Jim confided. /
'What, nudging his arm and that?'
'No, just appearing like.'
'Oh.'
The two prepared to drink again in silence but found their glasses empty. With perplexity they faced each
other.
'It's time I was away about my business,' said Jim, rising to his feet.
'Will you not be staying to have one more before you go?' John asked. Neville, rising like a titan from the
cellar depths, caught this remark; being a publican, he was inured against most forms of sudden shock.
'Same again lads?' he asked.
'Two of similar,' said John.
Jim eyed him with open suspicion.
'Ten and six,' said Neville pulling two more pints.

15
'Jim,' said John.
'John?' said Jim.
'I don't quite know how to put this, Jim.'
Jim raised his right hand as in benediction; Neville thought for one ghastly moment that he was going to cross
himself. 'John,' said Jim, 'John, I know what you are going to say, you are going to say that you wish to buy me a drink,
that in fact it would be an honour for you to buy me a drink and that such would give you a pleasure that like good
friendship is a jewel without price. You are going to say all this to me, John, because you have said it all before, then
when you have made these eloquent and endearing remarks you will begin to bewail your lot, to curse the fates that