this time) and Theo felt a wave of relief wash through him. Over the last year he hadn’t enjoyed his life very much, but apparently he wasn’t quite ready to die just yet. Life, he decided, is a bit like an optimist reading a Martin Amis novel; he keeps going, no matter what, just in case it gets good towards the end. “Art, give the gentleman a paper bag, just in case.”
Lunchbox fished in his pocket, uncrumpled a bag and laid it on Theo’s chest like a floral tribute. “Thanks,” Theo said, “but I can’t use my hands, you see, so—”
“Good point,” the old man said. “Art, I think we can do without the cuffs.”
It took Lunchbox quite some time to find the key. It turned up eventually, buried under three film-wrapped bricks of ham and tomato, two more of BLT, four rather squashed Swiss rolls, a book-sized wedge of cheese and three Snickers bars. Then he looked down at Theo’s hands and frowned.
“His right hand’s invisible,” the old man said. “Take off the left one and perhaps you’d be good enough to do the other one yourself, Mr Bernstein. He’s a good boy, but not what you might call practical.”
The removal of the handcuffs opened a new range of options, all of which Theo reluctantly dismissed. Lunchbox might be skinny and dimmer than a hotel corridor light bulb, but he’d proved strong enough to bash Theo stupid just by lifting him a little too enthusiastically. The old man had slowed down a bit, but kicking the van doors open and jumping out still didn’t appeal terribly much. It looked, therefore, like he was on his way to see Janine. At least he’d arrive without cramp or pins and needles up to the elbows.
“What does my sister want to see me for?”
“No idea, sorry,” the old man said. “All we was told was, fetch him over here immediately. I expect she just wants to talk to you a bit.”
Theo nodded slowly. “Tell me, Mr – sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”
“That’s all right, Mr Bernstein. Don’t worry about it.”
Oh well. “Tell me,” he repeated, “if Janine were to order you to, well, kill me, let’s say, and dump my body out at sea, for example, you wouldn’t do that, would you? I mean, I can see you’re basically good, decent people, with standards. You’d never dream of doing anything like that, I can tell.”
A short and rather awkward silence; then the old man said, “The way I look at it, Mr Bernstein, there’s no use worrying about stuff. I mean, for all you or I know, the planet could get hit by an asteroid and then that’s all of us gone, just like that. If you start thinking about things, you’d never be able to sleep at night. Would you like something to eat, Mr Bernstein? Art, give the gentleman a sandwich.”
The look of terror that covered the young man’s face would have melted the heart of a tax inspector. “Better not,” Theo said quickly. “Like I said, motion sickness. Not a good idea.”
“Ah. Right, well, if you change your mind, just say.”
Theo shuffled around a bit until he was able to prop himself up against the van doors. His head hurt every time the old man braked suddenly or swerved, but eventually he dropped into a vague half and half doze, which was considerably more restful than watching Lunchbox eat. In his semi-conscious state he was dimly aware of a cellphone warbling, and the old man saying something about being just a little bit behind schedule but otherwise all according to plan, and ETA at the designated transfer point in twenty minutes, and a bunch of other stuff that Theo couldn’t be bothered to follow. He was just about to drift into a proper dream, probably the one where he was back at his old school and he’d just been elected pope by a full conclave of the Roman Catholic Church, and nobody would believe him because he was only eleven, when –
Somebody was prodding his shoulder.
“Wake up, Your Holiness.” Prod, prod. “Here, Nev, gimme the plant mister, the silly old bugger’s out like a light.”
He opened his eyes. A cardinal, in a red cassock and mozetta, was bending over him holding a plastic water-squirter bottle. He had an earring in his left ear.
“You’re Australian,” Theo said.
The cardinal sighed. “That’s right, Your Holiness. Now, sit up and put your teeth in, and then it’ll be time for your call