Fatal Error Read Online Free PDF Page B

the sea below.
    ‘Gorgeous,’ whispered Ingrid next to me.
    ‘Yes it is,’ I agreed.
    ‘Not it. Him.’
    I realized that she was referring to a gardener carrying some tools back towards the house. He was young, Arab-looking, probably North African, and the muscles of his bare smooth chest were perfectly defined by the late-afternoon sunlight. He caught Guy’s eye, and smiled at him.
    ‘You’re in there, Guy,’ Ingrid said as the gardener disappeared round the corner of the house.
    ‘What are you talking about?’ said Guy. ‘He was smiling at all of us.’

    ‘I wish that were true, Guy, but it wasn’t. He was all eyes for you.’
    Guy scowled. He had the kind of looks that attracted admiring glances from men as well as women and I knew he hated it. There was nothing he could do about it, though. ‘What are you grinning at?’ he growled at me.
    ‘Nothing,’ I said, exchanging a glance with Ingrid. ‘Let’s get a drink.’
    The Pimm’s slipped down very easily. Despite our pretended sophistication none of us was used to spirits, and the drink soon had its effect. I didn’t say much, but watched the others, a pleasant buzzing caressing the edges of my brain. It was clear that Guy didn’t know his father well, but equally clear that they were both doing their best to be nice to each other. Tony soon had the girls giggling, especially Mel, who seemed quite taken with him.
    Just then Guy’s brother Owen shambled into view. For a fifteen-year-old he was big. His muscles were unnaturally well developed, and his large head appeared to belong to someone much older. But he seemed uncomfortable with his overgrown body. His walk was hesitant and stooped, as if he was trying to reduce his size. Of course it didn’t work. His mousy brown hair lay in greasy coils on his scalp, and he had pretty bad acne. He was wearing an Apple Computer T-shirt and black rugby shorts. Everyone ignored him.
    ‘Hi, Owen,’ I said out of politeness.
    ‘Hi.’
    ‘Been here long?’
    ‘Couple of days.’
    ‘This is a fantastic place, isn’t it?’
    ‘It’s OK,’ he said, and wandered off. End of conversation with Owen.
    Tony appeared, bearing a pitcher full of Pimm’s. ‘Want some more?’

    ‘Yes please, sir.’
    ‘David. I warned you about that. One more time, and it’s over the cliff.’
    ‘Sorry. Tony.’
    He refilled my glass. ‘Good stuff, isn’t it?’
    ‘It goes down very easily.’
    ‘Yes. It’s the one English thing I find that translates well to France. Even Dominique likes it.’ He looked over to where Owen was pouring himself a Coke. ‘You’re in Guy and Owen’s house at school, aren’t you?’
    ‘Yes. Guy and I share a room.’
    ‘How’s Owen getting on?’
    ‘Hard to say, really. I think he’s OK. He doesn’t have many friends, apart from some computer types. But he seems happy enough. He spends most of his time in the computer room. He reads a lot. He keeps himself to himself. But no one messes with him, Guy makes sure of that.’
    ‘Yes. Guy has always looked after him,’ Tony said. ‘Owen took the divorce quite badly. I don’t think his mother has much interest in him, apart from making sure he stays away from me. And I’m on record as the world’s lousiest father. Guy’s really been all he’s had. What about that rugby incident? Did you hear about that?’
    ‘Yes, I did.’
    ‘Did he do it?’
    I tensed. This was difficult ground. ‘I don’t know, sir. I mean, Tony.’
    ‘Sorry. That’s an unfair question. But what do people say? Do they think he did it?’
    Owen was a good rugby player, a prop-forward for the Junior Colts. But there had been trouble on the pitch earlier that year. A boy from another school had lost part of his ear in a ruck. There were teeth marks. Owen had been suspected, and for a few days his future at the school had been in doubt,but they were not sure enough of their ground to expel him. He had been dropped from the team, though.
    ‘Nobody