[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
C.N.D.-ers sometimes, you do.' He nodded down at Slater, hands on hips.
Slater kept staring at the sky. Then he said, 'I do hope you're not now going
to tell me once again what a fine bunch of lads you met in the Army.'
Page 81
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
'Shit.' Ed turned away, shaking his head, and started walking off towards the
Serpentine and the boat houses. 'Well, if you don' want to fuckin' defend
yourself...'
Slater lay there for a moment, then jerked upright, spilling a little of his
champagne.
Ed was about ten yards way. Slater shouted after him, 'Well, when it does
fall, and you do fry, I
just hope you remember what a fucking wonderful idea you thought it was!' Ed
didn't react. People in nearby deckchairs and other groups of people also
sunning themselves did, though, looking over.
'Sh,' Sara said lazily. 'You won't do any good shouting at him like that.'
'He's an idiot,' Slater said, collapsing back on the grass.
'He's entitled to his views,' Graham said.
'Oh, don't be stupid, Graham,' Slater snapped. 'He reads the Sun on the bus
every morning going to work.'
'So?' Graham said.
'Well, my dear boy,' Slater said, talking through rictused lips, 'if he spends
half an hour each day shovelling shit into his brain, you can't expect his
ideas to do anything else but stink, can you?'
'He's still entitled to his views,' Graham said, feeling awkward under Sara's
gaze, her
file:///F|/rah/Iain%20Banks/Banks%20-%20Walking%20on%20Glass%20v1.0.txt (62 of
101) [2/4/03 10:22:52 PM]
file:///F|/rah/Iain%20Banks/Banks%20-%20Walking%20on%20Glass%20v1.0.txt cool
regard. He played with a few blades of grass, twisting them in his fingers.
Slater sighed.
'If he had any of his own, I might allow you that, Graham, but the question
is: are the proprietors of Fleet Street entitled to Edward's views? No?' He
came more upright, leaning on one elbow and looking at Graham. Graham made a
face and shrugged.
'You expect too much of people,' Sara told Slater. He looked at her through
hooded eyes, one eyebrow raised.
'Do I indeed?'
'They're not all like you. They really don't think the way you do.'
'They just don't think, period,' Slater snorted. Sara smiled and Graham was
glad she was talking; it let him look at her, drink her in, without either of
them feeling embarrassed.
'That's just it,' Sara smiled. They do, of course they do. But they believe
in different things, they have different priorities, and a lot of them
wouldn't want some perfect socialist state even if you could bring it about.'
Slater snorted with derision at this.
'Great, so they're now getting ready to vote themselves five more years of
cuts, poverty and exciting new methods of incinerating millions of our fellow
human beings. Certainly a long way from your ideal socialist state; what is
this, the de Sade school of political sociology?'
'So they get what they deserve,' Sara said. 'Why do you pretend to care so
much more about them than they do themselves?'
'Oh, fuck,' Slater said, 'I give in.' He collapsed back on the grass. Sara
looked at
Graham, smiled and raised her eyebrows conspiratorially. Graham laughed
quietly.
She hurt his eyes. She sat in the shadow of the tree, but the whiteness of
her skin, the bright shoes and stockings and dress and the hat all reflected
sunlight from the brilliant sky, and he could hardly look at her for the glow
which struck his eyes.
He drank his champagne. It was still cool; Slater had brought the bottle
inside a cool-
bag, and it lay by the tree trunk, in shadow like Sara. Slater had been
Page 82
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
genuinely offended when
Graham, told to bring glasses, turned up with only plastic cups. He thought
Graham would
_understand_.
Graham had been a bit worried about Slater meeting Sara; the last time either
of them had seen her had been earlier that same week, and he thought Slater
might have mentioned it. They had gone together up to Half Moon Crescent, on
a day when Sara had suddenly cancelled their afternoon walk along the canal.
She'd been abrupt, even distressed over the phone, and he had been worried.
He had decided to walk up that way anyway, just to be there, in case there was
anything obviously wrong. Slater had been concerned, too, both at Graham's
obvious agitation, and at Sara's state as
Graham described it. Graham didn't mind his friend coming along: he was glad
of the company.
They started out walking, but then on Theobald's Road Slater insisted on
getting a bus.
Graham pointed out that a 179 only went as far as Kings Cross, which wasn't
very far and not even in exactly the right direction. Slater said it was in
roughly the right direction, and anyway his new shoes were tight and he didn't
want to walk all that way. At King's Cross he got them a taxi.
Graham said he couldn't really afford... Slater told him not to worry; he'd
pay. It wasn't far.
In the taxi. Slater suddenly remembered something; he had a present for
Graham. He dug into his jacket pocket. 'Here,' he said, and handed Graham
something hard wrapped in tissue paper.
Graham unwrapped it as the cab went up Pentonville Road. It was a small
glazed china figurine of a woman, naked, with large breasts and her knees
bent, feet under her buttocks, legs spread out.
Her tiny face was set in an expression of ecstasy, her shoulders were thrown
back as though she was forcing her conical breasts higher, and her hands were
down at her hips, open and delicate, each finger carefully moulded. Her
genitals, in the quick glance Graham gave them, seemed rather exaggerated.
'Is this supposed to be some sort of joke?' he said to Slater.
Slater took the figurine back with a grin and produced a pencil from his
inside pocket, 'No,' he said, 'it's a pencil sharpener; look,' and he inserted
the pencil between the model's legs.
Graham looked away, shaking his head. 'It is just a little bit tasteless.'
'I have more taste than anchovies in garlic butter, you young pup,' Slater
said. 'I was just trying to cheer you up.'
'Oh,' Graham said, as the taxi turned left. 'Thanks.'
'Huh,' said Slater, sitting forward in his seat to make sure the taxi driver
went the right way as they approached Half Moon Crescent. 'I spent several
days making that for you.'
'I said thanks,' Graham said, then, 'Oh, tell him to stop here; don't want to
get too close.' He checked the street to make sure Sara wasn't around; they
were still in Penton Street,
file:///F|/rah/Iain%20Banks/Banks%20-%20Walking%20on%20Glass%20v1.0.txt (63 of
101) [2/4/03 10:22:52 PM]
file:///F|/rah/Iain%20Banks/Banks%20-%20Walking%20on%20Glass%20v1.0.txt but
you never knew.
The taxi stopped. 'Let's have a drink,' Slater said.
'I'll tell you one thing,' said Graham, as Slater led him across the street
into a pub called the White Conduit.
'What?'
'You forgot about how to get the shavings out.' Graham held the china figure
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]