in his English accent.
‘She said he looked old but still nice.’ The boy pushed his notebook into the front pocket of his low-slung apron. ‘Two coffees coming up.’
When the waiter had left them, Richard asked, ‘How bad are the other papers?’
‘Pretty bad. Front page of all the tabloids, the Telegraph and the Guardian.’
‘What’s the mood?’
Kevin opened the Mirror and scanned the story inside.
‘They’re saying your disappearance is the biggest mystery since Agatha Christie ran off. They’re concerned about you. They think you might have had a breakdown, or run off with a lover, or gone stark staring mad.’ He put the paper down and picked up another. ‘The Sun has a reward for information leading to your discovery.’
Richard perked up. ‘Really? How much?’
‘Two tickets to your new film and dinner at Gordon Ramsay’s place with the Sun’s film critic.’
The waiter arrived with their coffees. As Richard stirred his, Kevin asked, ‘Look, mate, if you want to go back, just say the word. But for what it’s worth, I think you need this time just to get real again. I’ll stay with you as long as you need me and do whatever you want.’
Richard looked up from his coffee. ‘Really?’
‘Yeah. I like a little adventure in my life. Something to tell the grandchildren. And anyway, you can’t go anywhere until your hair has grown back again.’
Richard was grateful for the friendship of this kind and honest man and began to relax again. So far no one had noticed him, so maybe he could just disappear for a little while longer. ‘I owe you, Kevin,’ he said.
‘You sure bloody do. Fish and chips, clothes shop and this coffee.’
Kevin reached over and swatted Richard with the rolled-up Mirror. ‘I’m joking, you silly sod. What are friends for?’
Richard smiled. ‘You’ve saved my sanity.’
‘Oh, don’t go bleeding soft on me. There are mackerel to catch and pints to be drunk, and they aren’t going to do it by themselves.’
Kevin left some money on the table with a hefty tip to avoid any chat with the waiter and got Richard outside.
‘Have you ever had a pasty?’ he asked.
‘My friends Penny and Simon tried to feed me one once, but I managed to dodge it.’
‘You don’t know what you’ve missed.’
They walked down the narrow cobbled street that led to the harbour, following the smell of onions, warm pastry and butter as they got closer to the Trevay Pasty Shop.
The front window was piled high with pasties of every size and flavour. Vegetarian, curry, lamb and mint, cheese and onion. Kevin pulled Richard in.
‘Two large traditional steak pasties, please,’ he said to the lady behind the counter.
‘Anything else, my love?’ she asked as she expertly slipped them into two paper bags and twisted the ends.
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.
