Hungry Moon Read Online Free PDF

us the reason, Craig thought. There would be time enough to pursue it. Just now he was regaining his sense of the town, the way no terrace was quite in line with its neighbours, the stretches of the High Street that had no pavements, only grass verges from which the bellies of barrel-shaped drains protruded. Streets led down from the town square through the terraces toward the dry valley, and the sight of the crooked skeins of lamps descending into a gathering mist made him feel nostalgic and peaceful. He mustn't feel too settled, he reminded himself as they crossed the square to the Moonwell Hotel.
    The hotel was four stories tall, the smallest rooms up under the steep roof. The restaurant had space enough to cope if all the rooms were occupied, but since they never were, Craig hadn't booked a table. Perhaps he should have, for every table in the high panelled room with its polished dance floor was taken.
    'Well I never,' Benedict said, strong words for him. Presumably the people, mostly middle-aged, were a coach party, since they all seemed to know each other. The Wildes and the Eddingses found seats at adjacent tables, but they had hardly sat down when the couples at the tables rose. A minute later the restaurant had emptied, leaving the four of them with echoes, crumpled napkins, used cups and plates.
    'It's a good thing we'll be having wine,' Craig said to the waiter who came to clear the table of their predecessors' leavings, 'or you'd have sold none this evening.' By the time a matronly waitress brought their meals, he and Vera had drunk most of the wine and were calling for another bottle, despite a surprised look from Benedict that stopped just short of reproof. As Craig cut into his chicken Kiev, he thought again of Hazel in her first evening dress. 'Remember the first time we dined at Sheffield Town Hall? You had chicken Kiev then. You couldn't work out how they put the garlic butter in. You said it was like a ship in a bottle.'
    'Did I really?' Hazel said with a smile.
    'Hazel remembers quite a lot about her childhood,' Benedict said.
    'I'm glad,' Vera said, and blinked at him, though his pale voice had been neutral. 'Or shouldn't I be?'
    'Well now,' Benedict said, and Hazel interrupted, 'It's only that I happened to mention to Benedict how you and Daddy used to dress at home.'
    'How we didn't, you mean,' Craig said, picking cork off his tongue.
    'I know you were trying to be modern, ahead of your time really, but - you don't mind if I say this now, do you? I never liked it when you went around like that. I'm glad it's going out of fashion. Mind you, just the other day Benedict had to knock on someone's door and ask them to put some clothes on their little boy while he was playing out in his garden.'
    'They didn't sound very Christian to me,' Benedict added.
    Vera put down the glass that she'd stopped short of her lips. 'So what else didn't you like about your childhood, Hazel? Let's hear the rest of it.'
    'Mummy, I didn't mean to hurt you. I wouldn't have said anything if I'd known you would take it that way.'
    'No, please,' Vera said, and withdrew her hand as Hazel reached for it. 'I'd rather know.'
    'Just little things. I know you didn't keep me away from religious activities at school, but I always felt as if Daddy wanted to. And I wish you'd let me go to Sunday school but I thought if I asked you might feel I was trying to say you weren't enough for me. I wouldn't have been, I hope you know.'
    'You wouldn't have said it, just thought it, you mean.'
    'Oh, Mummy,' Hazel cried, lowering her voice as the sound echoed through the empty restaurant and brought a waiter's face to the kitchen doors, 'say you aren't offended. I was always afraid we'd end up talking like this.'
    'You're a surprise to me, that's all,' Vera said, blinking back tears, and Benedict cleared his throat. 'I'd better be getting back to work,' he told Craig through a last mouthful of his main course.
    'I'll come with you. Perhaps you could pick