Read The Grin of the Dark for Free Online

you don't know as much about the movies as
you think.'
    However irrational my reaction may be, the presence of the waiter
makes Bebe's comment almost physically unbearable. I blank out for
a moment as if my brain has crashed. At least when I regain my
awareness, nobody seems to have noticed. Natalie's expression
includes sympathy and a plea that I shouldn't lose my temper. I
unload a skewer with my fork and lay the pointed shaft along the
edge of the plate. I won't be responding to Bebe's challenge here or
now, but I'll remember it. I'm all the more determined to put myself
and Tubby Thackeray back where we should be on the map.

FIVE - LOST
    Mardi Gras Massacre is a 1981 film set in New Orleans, though
reportedly you mightn't know until the final reel fills up with
carnival footage. Earlier a maniac removes the hearts from three
naked women, or rather from the same rubber body double thrice.
The film was banned in Britain the year it was made, otherwise even
fewer people would have heard of it. Perhaps the management at
Choice Cuts should explain the names of dishes to the staff.
    While I'm consulting the Internet Movie Database I revisit Tubby
Thackeray's page. All the titles are dead and black, with no links to
further information, and he doesn't have a message board. I move to
abebooks, an assemblage of booksellers, and enter Surréalistes Malgré Eux in the search box. Three shops have the book. The
cheapest copy, described as annotated in pencil, is at Le Maître des
Livres in Quebec. I send the details of my credit card and pay for
express delivery. Now I just need to be as lucky with Those Golden Years of Fun .
    A site called Silents Entire reveals that besides famous names, the
compilation includes less-remembered stars – Charley Chase, Tubby
Thackeray, Max Linder, Hector Mann, Max Davidson. The trouble
is that Amazon shows it's deleted, and nobody is offering it secondhand
on the site. There's always eBay, where a seller called
Moviemad has listed a copy. The auction ends in three days, and two
people are bidding. The top bid is £2.50, but I can buy the item now
for a penny under fifteen pounds. I click on the option, only to be told
I have to register and choose a screen name and password. The name
can be Restorer, the password Esteem. As soon as an email confirms
this I put in the winning bid, and my sigh of relief mists the screen. I
reach out to wipe it with my handkerchief, and it turns blank as slate.
    My room and the view of squat twin houses weighed down by a
grey sky disappear in sympathy. I've gone as good as blind with
panic. Then I can see, though it restores nothing to the screen. I send
the mouse skating all over my desk and hit enough keys to spell at
least one nonsensical word, but the screen remains featureless. I
thumb the power button and hold it until I hear the computer shut
down, then I release it and switch on. The initial test appears and
vanishes, followed by the usual flurry of system details. They've never
meant much to me, but the word that terminates each line does. Lost,
it says they are. Lost. Lost.
    I let out a sound too furious to contain syllables and bruise my
elbows on the desk while I blot out the sight of the relentless word so
that I can think. I've copied all my work onto discs, and I have a
printout of my thesis. The crash is surely no worse than inconvenient.
I'm trying to find the phone number of the computer shop among the
bills and invoices in my desk drawer when the door rattles with a
knock and then with several. 'Simon?' my neighbour Joe calls. 'Was
that you?'
    'Nobody else here that I know of.'
    'I'll come in then, shall I?'
    I don't want to be distracted, but apparently I have no choice. I
kick myself away from the desk and snatch the drawer off my lap,
leaving two dusty Ls on my trousers. I slam the drawer into its niche
on my way to yanking the doorknob out of Joe's hand as he starts to
open the door. 'What do you want, Joe?'
    He takes a step backwards,