Bring it Back Home Read Online Free PDF
Author: Niall Griffiths
a mission like him? Were they just visiting the city, to shop or sight-see? Or were they due to catch flights from the nearby airport? They were all a mystery to him.
On the way back to his room Cakes saw a sign saying 'CRECHE', with an arrow pointing down a corridor. He followed that arrow and found himself in a small room containing a silent riot of beanbags and spongeballs, soft sticklebricks and other children-entertaining things, but no children. He noticed a stack of board games in one corner and went and shuffled through them, choosing the Connect 4. Back in his room he set the game up on the floor, between the bed and the window. He made another pot of tea. Turned the telly on and sat down to wait.
Three soft knocks on the door. Cakes opened it with what he hoped was a welcoming smile. The ad hadn't lied; 'busty' was an accurate description. She was big all over.
'This is the right room, lover, yes? You called me earlier?'
'Oh yes,' Cakes said. 'That I did. Come in. Want some tea?'
He stepped aside and she tottered in on extremely high heels. Put her handbag on the bed, took her scarf off and put that next to the handbag. Cakes could feel the night air coming off her, see the goosebumps raised on the bare skin of her arms and legs, uncovered as they were by the tiny denim skirt she hardly wore.
They looked at each other. She was a large woman with a heavily made-up face. Lots of black hair â probably extensions, thought Cakes â piled up on the top of her head. Lots of jewellery. Big dark eyes in circles of vivid green eye shadow, and pink lipstick applied seemingly an inch thick. Cakes wanted to ask her to remove some of the make-up but he would've felt rude doing so, so he just asked her again if she wanted some tea.
'It's already made,' he said. 'It's in the pot.'
'Okay then.'
He poured two cups and she sat on the bed and removed her shoes, sighing with relief. She massaged her toes and her soles, the dinges in her skin where the shoe-straps had cut in. She noticed the Connect 4 screen on the floor.
'What's this?'
'What?'
'This, here.'
She pointed to the game with a bare big toe, the nail painted crimson. Cakes handed her the tea.
'Well, I thought we could have a game or two,' he said. 'Just pass the time, y'know?'
âAh, I see.' She blew on and sipped her tea. 'You're, erm, lonely, right? Travelling or something and you just want some company, is that it?'
'That's about it, yes.' He sat down crosslegged on the floor facing her, the Connect 4 between them. 'Is that okay? D'you mind?'
She slid off the bed so that she too was sitting on the floor, facing Cakes. 'Not at all, lover. It's your money. And this is one of my favourite games.'
âGood.'
And so they played. She won the first game, and the second, which were played in silent concentration. As Cakes was re-setting the board for a third game she asked him where he was going, what he was doing in Bristol.
Cakes shrugged. 'I'm on my way to Wales.'
'Holiday, is it?'
'No. I'm looking for someone.'
'Oh. I won't ask what for, then.'
'Best not.'
'Will he, erm, be happy to see you, this person?'
'You're asking a lot of questions.'
'I'm sorry. Just curious.'
Cakes smiled. 'Well, it's a good question â which I won't answer. But I bet he'll be surprised to see me. I don't doubt he'll be surprised. He thinks I don't know where he is. But, y'see, I do.'
Cakes laughed then, a small, soft chuckle to himself, almost under his breath. 'Oh yes. I know.'
The woman looked at him. She listened to him chuckling to himself and watched him set the game up, watched his fingers, the vigour of his movements. She was looking for aggression. Was he a danger to her, this odd man who only wanted to play Connect 4 and drink tea? Was she in a bad situation, here, with him? No, she didn't think she was. She'd been in this business for several years and she'd learnt how to tell within two minutes of meeting someone whether they were a threat to
On the way back to his room Cakes saw a sign saying 'CRECHE', with an arrow pointing down a corridor. He followed that arrow and found himself in a small room containing a silent riot of beanbags and spongeballs, soft sticklebricks and other children-entertaining things, but no children. He noticed a stack of board games in one corner and went and shuffled through them, choosing the Connect 4. Back in his room he set the game up on the floor, between the bed and the window. He made another pot of tea. Turned the telly on and sat down to wait.
Three soft knocks on the door. Cakes opened it with what he hoped was a welcoming smile. The ad hadn't lied; 'busty' was an accurate description. She was big all over.
'This is the right room, lover, yes? You called me earlier?'
'Oh yes,' Cakes said. 'That I did. Come in. Want some tea?'
He stepped aside and she tottered in on extremely high heels. Put her handbag on the bed, took her scarf off and put that next to the handbag. Cakes could feel the night air coming off her, see the goosebumps raised on the bare skin of her arms and legs, uncovered as they were by the tiny denim skirt she hardly wore.
They looked at each other. She was a large woman with a heavily made-up face. Lots of black hair â probably extensions, thought Cakes â piled up on the top of her head. Lots of jewellery. Big dark eyes in circles of vivid green eye shadow, and pink lipstick applied seemingly an inch thick. Cakes wanted to ask her to remove some of the make-up but he would've felt rude doing so, so he just asked her again if she wanted some tea.
'It's already made,' he said. 'It's in the pot.'
'Okay then.'
He poured two cups and she sat on the bed and removed her shoes, sighing with relief. She massaged her toes and her soles, the dinges in her skin where the shoe-straps had cut in. She noticed the Connect 4 screen on the floor.
'What's this?'
'What?'
'This, here.'
She pointed to the game with a bare big toe, the nail painted crimson. Cakes handed her the tea.
'Well, I thought we could have a game or two,' he said. 'Just pass the time, y'know?'
âAh, I see.' She blew on and sipped her tea. 'You're, erm, lonely, right? Travelling or something and you just want some company, is that it?'
'That's about it, yes.' He sat down crosslegged on the floor facing her, the Connect 4 between them. 'Is that okay? D'you mind?'
She slid off the bed so that she too was sitting on the floor, facing Cakes. 'Not at all, lover. It's your money. And this is one of my favourite games.'
âGood.'
And so they played. She won the first game, and the second, which were played in silent concentration. As Cakes was re-setting the board for a third game she asked him where he was going, what he was doing in Bristol.
Cakes shrugged. 'I'm on my way to Wales.'
'Holiday, is it?'
'No. I'm looking for someone.'
'Oh. I won't ask what for, then.'
'Best not.'
'Will he, erm, be happy to see you, this person?'
'You're asking a lot of questions.'
'I'm sorry. Just curious.'
Cakes smiled. 'Well, it's a good question â which I won't answer. But I bet he'll be surprised to see me. I don't doubt he'll be surprised. He thinks I don't know where he is. But, y'see, I do.'
Cakes laughed then, a small, soft chuckle to himself, almost under his breath. 'Oh yes. I know.'
The woman looked at him. She listened to him chuckling to himself and watched him set the game up, watched his fingers, the vigour of his movements. She was looking for aggression. Was he a danger to her, this odd man who only wanted to play Connect 4 and drink tea? Was she in a bad situation, here, with him? No, she didn't think she was. She'd been in this business for several years and she'd learnt how to tell within two minutes of meeting someone whether they were a threat to
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