Matala Read Online Free PDF Page B

pickings but exercise admirable restraint and honor on top of it. I must’ve raised you right.” She laughed at his scowling and then covered the girl, stood up, and put her hand on his trousers.
    â€œI’m sorry it’s been so long,” she said. “This hasn’t been the place for it. But I’ve been remiss. I haven’t been myself—”
    â€œJustine—” he said, though he barely had the breath for it.
    â€œShall we find a private spot somewhere?”
    He breathed again and nodded.

    W HEN THE GIRL STUMBLED INTO the great room, which in the new morning had transformed itself from a rocking club into a plain bland cafeteria, Justine was sitting with Will. Justine leaped up and went over to take the girl’s arm and help her sit.
    â€œPoor little pussy,” she said.
    After the girl took a few sips of the coffee Will had fetched her, Justine said, “Well, that was some pisser you put on, girlfriend. Bet your head’s banging.”
    â€œIt isn’t,” she said. “I didn’t drink that much.”
    â€œRight,” Justine said.
    â€œI really didn’t,” she insisted. “Not for something like that to happen.” She drank some more of the thick coffee and then said, “What did happen?”
    â€œYou got blitzed,” Will told her.
    â€œYou just went over,” said Justine, “like you were bloody knackered. I put you to bed.”
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œSo you feel all right now?”
    â€œI’m okay. I just…Oh, no. Oh, merde! ”
    â€œWhat is it?”
    â€œMy bus. We’re leaving. What time is it?”
    â€œA bit after eight.”
    â€œOh, my God, you’re kidding. You’re kidding, right?”
    â€œNo, dear. When did you say it leaves?”
    â€œLeft,” she said. “Already. The bus was at seven. We had a seven-forty train.”
    â€œWell,” said Justine, “don’t get all wobbly. You should call the hotel. I’d guess someone stayed behind. They may even have called in the police. Where did you tell them you were going?”
    â€œI didn’t. I snuck out.”
    â€œThat’s brilliant. But I’m sure they’re all waiting for you, worried sick.”
    â€œI don’t think so. Mrs. Abignale is always saying, you know, ‘If you can’t be on time, you get left behind.’”
    â€œThey always say that, don’t they? But they never do. Not really.”
    â€œYou don’t know her.”
    â€œYou have the number? The hotel?”
    She lifted her purse and had begun to root through it when she made another nasty discovery.
    â€œOh!” she said again. “My money’s gone.”
    â€œIt can’t be,” Justine said.
    â€œIt is. Someone stole it. I had a lot of cash.”
    â€œLowlifes,” said Will. “You can’t believe the trash that hangs out in these kinds of places.”
    Justine said, “What’re you going to do, dear?”
    â€œI don’t have any idea. I’m so screwed. I’m in so much trouble.”
    â€œWhat trouble? It’s your bloody trip. It’s not like you’re a schoolgirl or something.”
    The girl looked at her then, and Justine could see it dawn on her that this was so. She was as free as any other adult.
    â€œOf course,” Justine continued, “the thing to do really is call. Let them know so they can collect you. Unless…”
    She let it hang there between them until the girl said, “What?”
    â€œI don’t know. It’s—I’m sure they’ll want to just pick you up or something.”
    â€œUnless what?”
    â€œWell, we could ride you up.”
    â€œYou have a car?”
    â€œNo. Afraid not. I meant by train. We’re checking out today anyway. Heading north. Getting on with things.”
    â€œYou’re going to Florence?”
    â€œWell, we could do. We’re sort