The Swap - By Antony Moore Page 0,109

would be waiting outside the shop, looking a little bit forlorn possibly, a bit lost and small in the big roaring quiet of the closing city. But he would warm her with a hug. Not too much kissing, his breath must smell like Oliver Reed – after he died – but a nice long sexy hug. And then he'd take her inside and sit her on the sofa and tell her everything and she would be so impressed and then he'd open the drawer and show her the comic and she would be so thrilled that there was a future for them both, that she'd roll back on the sofa and he'd climb aboard and . . . shit. He stopped for a moment and took a few deep breaths and then tried walking again, yes that was better. Perhaps keep the thinking to a minimum. So he sang another chorus or two and peered ahead of him to see if he could see her.

When he arrived outside Inaction Comix two things struck him. First she wasn't there and that meant he hadn't kept her waiting, which he'd kind of hoped he would so as to give her a little punishment for leaving him behind in Cornwall. And second the shutters were up and the lights still on, which meant that Josh was here. Bugger. He stepped back from the window, not wishing to be seen. Perhaps he'd just wait outside for her, she wouldn't be long. But that would mean that she kept him waiting, even though he was meant to be punishing her. Was that fair? What if Josh had let her in? Maybe she was inside. What would Josh be doing to entertain her? Hurriedly Harvey fumbled for his keys and with unprecedented speed found the right one, opened the shop door and stepped inside.

'Um.' He looked round with interest. 'Ah.' Jarvin and the Coopers were just emerging from his office so nine faces simultaneously turned to look at him. 'Right.' He shut the door carefully behind him and came rather slowly into his shop. 'So, er . . . how's it going?' he asked.

Chapter Thirty-eight

There was a long silence, long enough for Harvey to wonder if this was pregnant. He felt fairly sure that it was. Pregnant with twins and ready to drop was how he had characterised it before Jarvin spoke.

'Mr Briscow,' is what he said. Harvey wasn't sure this really added anything much to the silence, not containing any real information that wasn't obvious to everyone present. Except perhaps the four uniformed policemen who stood watching silently from around the room. Perhaps Jarvin said it to sort of introduce him to them. He wondered what their names were. But something else was niggling at him, something he couldn't place.

'We have been trying to find you, Mr Briscow,' Jarvin added and Harvey was aware of Allen going off into the office, presumably to call off a search party. Had they really been hunting for him? Was there an APB out? He felt rather thrilled and also very slightly amused, as well as shitting his pants, of course.

'Er, well, here I am.' Again this didn't really seem to bring much to the occasion but Harvey felt it right to speak. 'I went to Cornwall, but now I'm back.'

'You had a blood test booked, Mr Briscow.' Jarvin spoke gently, sounding like a Harley Street specialist.

'Yeah, sorry. Bad one that. I just kind of got mixed up and stuff.' Harvey was taking in the room more now, rather than just the faces. It was almost bare. He'd never realised how small it was before. Really it might be better if they turned the comic stands the other way and then had aisles running across . . . He caught Josh's eye and Josh looked instantly hangdog. Harvey wondered what he'd done. He looked round hastily to check for new purchases but there were piles of comics and boxes everywhere and it was hard to tell if he'd bought anything. He gave Josh a long frown but still felt that niggling feeling: something was amiss. Apart from all the obvious things, of course.

'We have been searching your shop, Mr Briscow, as you can see,' Jarvin continued. 'Of course, we would rather have done so with your permission and in your presence but unfortunately we could not contact you.'

'No. Never liked mobiles – fascist,' Harvey muttered. But his attention was elsewhere. He'd worked out what had been niggling him: what