The Wasp Factory Page 0,62

can see that, can’t you?’

‘All right. All right,’ I said. ‘But you’re not in a call-box, are you?’

‘Well, of course I’m not in a call-box,’ he said with a bit of an edge in his voice again; then I heard him control his tone. ‘Yeah, that’s right. I’m in somebody’s house. Well, a cottage actually.’

‘What?’ I said. ‘Who? Whose?’

‘I don’t know,’ he replied, and I could almost hear him shrug. ‘I suppose I could find out if you’re really that interested. Are you really that interested?’

‘What? No. Yes. I mean, no. What does it matter? But where - I mean how - I mean who do you—?’

‘Look, Frank,’ Eric said tiredly, ‘it’s just somebody’s little holiday cottage or weekend retreat or something, right? I don’t know whose it is; but, as you so perceptively put it, it doesn’t matter, all right?’

‘You mean you’ve broken in to somebody’s home?’ I said.

‘Yeah; so what? I didn’t even have to break in, in fact. I found the key to the back door in the guttering. What’s wrong? It’s a very nice little place.’

‘Aren’t you frightened of getting caught?’

‘Not much. I’m sitting here in the front room looking down the drive and I can see way down the road. No problem. I’ve got food and there’s a bath and there’s a phone and there’s a freezer - Christ, you could fit an Alsatian in there - and a bed and everything. Luxury.’

‘An Alsatian!’ I screeched.

‘Well, yes, if I had one. I don’t, but if I did I could have kept that in there. As it is—’

‘Don’t,’ I interrupted, closing my eyes yet again and holding up my hand as though he was there in the house with me. ‘Don’t tell me.’

‘OK. Well, I just thought I’d ring you and tell you I’m all right, and see how you are.’

‘I’m fine. Are you sure you’re OK, too?’

‘Yeah; never felt better. Feeling great. I think it’s my diet; all—’

‘Listen!’ I broke in desperately, feeling my eyes widen as I thought of what I wanted to ask him. ‘You didn’t feel anything this morning, did you? About dawn? Anything? I mean, anything at all? Nothing inside you - ah - you didn’t feel anything? Did you feel anything?’

‘What are you gibbering about?’ Eric said, slightly angrily.

‘Did you feel anything this morning, very early?’

‘What on earth do you mean - “feel anything”?’

‘I mean did you experience anything; anything at all about dawn this morning?’

‘Well,’ Eric said in measured tones, and slowly, ‘Funny you should say that . . .’

‘Yes? Yes?’ I said excitedly, pressing the receiver so close to my mouth that my teeth clattered off the mouthpiece.

‘Not a damn thing. This morning was one of the few I can honestly say I experienced not a thing,’ Eric informed me urbanely. ‘I was asleep.’

‘But you said you didn’t sleep!’ I said furiously.

‘Christ, Frank, nobody’s perfect.’ I could hear him start to laugh.

‘But—’ I started. I closed my mouth and gritted my teeth. Once more, I closed my eyes.

He said: ‘Anyway, Frank, old sport; to be quite honest, this is getting boring. I might call you again but, either way, I’ll see you soon. Ta ta.’

Before I could say anything, the line went dead, and I was left fuming and belligerent, holding the telephone and glaring at it like it was to blame. I considered hitting something with it, but decided that would be too much like a bad joke, so I slammed it down on the cradle instead. It chimed once in response and I gave it another glare, then turned my back on it and stamped downstairs, threw myself into an easy chair and punched the buttons on the remote control for the television repeatedly through channel after channel time after time for about ten minutes. At the end of that period I realised that I had got just as much out of watching three programmes simultaneously (the news, yet another awful American crime series and a programme on archaeology) as I ever got from watching the damn things separately. I hurled the control unit away in disgust and stormed outside in the fading light to go and throw a few stones at the waves.

9

What Happened to Eric

I slept fairly late, for me. My father had arrived back at the house just as I returned from the beach, and I had gone to bed at once, so I had a good long sleep. In the morning I called Jamie, got his mother, and found out he had