"Alastair Reynolds - Signal to Noise" - читать интересную книгу автора (Reynolds Alastair)

As the tram whisked its way through traffic, he thought back to the
evening before. The meeting with Andrea, and the subsequent day, had
gone as well as he could have expected. Things had been strained at first,
but by the time they’d been to Starbucks, he had detected an easing in her
manner, and that had made him feel more at ease as well. They’d made
small talk, skirting around the main thing neither of them wanted to discuss.
Andrea had taken most of the day off; she didn’t have to be at I he law
offices until late afternoon, just to check that no problems had arisen in her
absence.
 They’d talked about what to do with the rest of their day together.

“Maybe we could drive up into the Beacons,” Mick had said. “It’ll be
nice up in the hills with a bit of a breeze. We always used to enjoy those
days out.”

“Been a while though,” Andrea had said. “I’m not sure my legs are up
lo it anymore.”

“You always used to hustle up those hills.”

“Emphasis on the ‘used to,’ unfortunately. Now I get out of breath lust
walking up St. Mary’s Street with a bag full of shopping.”

Mick looked at her skeptically, but he couldn’t deny that Andrea had a
point. Neither of them was the keen, outdoors type they had been when
they met fifteen years earlier through the university’s hill-walking club. Back
then they’d spent long weekends exploring the hills of the Brecon Beacons
and the Black Mountains, or driving to Snowdonia or the Lake District.
They’d had some hair-raising moments together, when the weather turned
against them or when they suddenly realized they were on completely the
wrong ridge. But what Mick remembered, more than anything, was not
being cold and wet, but the feeling of relief when they arrived at some cozy
warm pub at the end of the day, both of them ravenous and thirsty and high
on what they’d achieved. Good memories, all of them. Why hadn’t they kept
it up, instead of letting their jobs rule their weekends?

“Look, maybe we might drive up to the Beacons in a day or two,”
Andrea said. “But I think it’s a bit ambitious for today, don’t you?”

“You’re probably right,” Mick said.

After some debate, they’d agreed to visit the castle and then take a
boat ride around the bay to see the huge and impressive sea defenses up
close. Both were things they’d always meant to do together but had kept
putting off for another weekend. The castle was heaving with tourists, even
on this midweek day. Because a lot of them were nervelinked, though, they
afforded Mick a welcome measure of inconspicuousness. No one gave him
a second glance as he bumbled along with the other shade-wearing
bodysnatchers, even though he must have looked considerably more