Read The Grin of the Dark for Free Online Page B

perhaps because he hears the jingling of the
contents of my pocket – only coins. As Joe's head pokes up behind
him, cellophane crackles under my foot. 'You haven't picked your
rubbish up,' I point out.
    'Which is that?' says Warren.
    I lift my foot to show him, but the wrapping adheres to the sole of
my shoe. I'm reduced to hopping about to display the evidence, a
routine that starts the dog barking so loud that the confined gloomy
space feels shrunken. Warren watches me scrape the cellophane off
my shoe with the other, and then he says 'Couldn't you have dealt
with it, Simon?'
    I'm robbed of any words it would be advisable for me to utter even
before Joe says 'You could have while I was letting Mr Halloran in.'
    'Right, I'll see to it now. Here it goes. Off to the bin with you. Get
in. Get in.' By the time I've shaken the sticky contents of Joe's mouth
off my fingertip I'm sounding as wild as I feel. 'Anything else anyone
needs me to do?'
    'You could let me look at your computer.' Joe has followed me
into my room. 'I can fix this,' he says with barely a glance at the
onscreen messages. 'It's simps.'
    'You still under guarantee, Simon?'
    'No, but –'
    'Quiet, girl. Simon doesn't want to sound hostile. What were you
planning to charge, Joe?'
    'Chums don't charge.'
    'Sounds like a good deal.'
    If the computer fails after Joe has tinkered with it, won't Warren
have to take responsibility? He and Bebe replaced Mark's, and they
can do the same for me. 'Fair enough, if you say so,' I tell him.
    Joe dumps his bag of humbugs next to the computer and plants his
baggy buttocks on my chair. 'Can I have your system discs?'
    I'm hauling open the lower drawer of the desk when I remember
where my pipe is. I try to reveal just enough of the drawer to fumble
out the plastic wallet full of discs. Joe grimaces as he examines
them. 'No wonder you've lost it,' he says. 'I'll give you the latest
versions.'
    Once Joe has fetched them from his room, Warren shuts the dog
on the landing and perches on the edge of my bed. 'So have we found
out anything today?' He's gazing straight at me and presumably
addressing me.
    'Tell Bebe Mardi Gras Massacre ,' I say.
    'Lie down, girl. Lie.' Once the onslaught at the door trails off with
a piteous whine he says 'Why should my wife want to hear that?'
    'It's where her dish came from yesterday. Where the name did, I
mean. I realise it's a rotten pun. Enough to put you off your lunch.'
    The sound of clawing at the door has given way to the scurry of
the keyboard. I can't grasp any of the formulas Joe is entering on the
computer. 'How about your research?' Warren persists.
    'I've tracked down some footage I don't think has ever been
written about. It's on its way.'
    'I guess you can't work any faster than that. So long as you won't
be too slow for your publisher.'
    'You never told me you were going to be published,' Joe complains
and springs a disc out of the computer. 'How do you find the time to
study as well?'
    'Because I'm not a student any longer.'
    'Lie. Lie.'
    I didn't think the dog was making enough of a commotion to
deserve Warren's latest shout. More conversationally he says 'We
figure Simon will be moving on soon.'
    The breath snags in my throat on the way to speech. 'You're
asking me to, you mean.'
    'I have to agree with my wife, it isn't fair to the rest of our tenants.
We don't need them thinking anyone is getting special treatment
when he could afford to live someplace else.'
    'I won't tell so long as we're chums,' says Joe.
    'When are you looking to get rid of me?'
    I thought Warren might at least deny this aim, but he says 'We can
give you till the end of the year.'
    'It'll be a kind of birthday present, then.'
    'Is it your birthday?' Joe cries as he feeds the computer yet another
disc. 'Many happy returns. Fixing this is my gift and I didn't even know.'
    Does he really not recognise sarcasm? Warren's smile is claiming
that he didn't either. 'No, it's not my birthday,' I tell them. 'New
Year,