Remix (2010) Read Online Free PDF Page A

Iams.
    “Is it okay if I make myself some toast and use your laptop?”
    “Yes. Go up. The door’s open.”
    Ten minutes later I crept upstairs to check he hadn’t absconded over the side of the building with my valuables. I got so my head was high enough to peer into the flat. Ric was at the kitchen counter, hunched over the laptop, keys clacking furiously, playing a computer game, Dog curled at his feet. Harmless enough. I retreated.

    James rang, as he said he would. He’s a man of his word. He asked tentative questions about ‘my visitor’ last night.
    “Joe. I knew him at Central St Martin’s.” I felt bad, lying to James, but I had to tell him something. It was the first time ever that I’d not been truthful with him. He said nothing for five seconds, which is quite a long time.
    “I thought I’d met all your college friends. You said his name was Ric.”
    “It’s Joe Rick. We called him Rick. When we weren’t calling him Joe…” I’m a crap liar. “He needed somewhere to stay. He’s going tomorrow.”
    “What does he do?”
    “Paint. He’s on the dole.” This at any rate had the ring of truth. All the students I knew in the Fine Art Department either went into something else on leaving college, or were unemployed. I changed the subject. “How’s Posy?”
    “Fine. She’s…fine.” He sounded abstracted. “Look, I’ve got to go, I’ll talk to you later.”

    Ric was still at my laptop when I went upstairs to make myself a cup of coffee at eleven. Not playing a game; frowning over something he clicked off at my approach. He glanced up.
    “I was thinking, maybe you could take me to Phil’s tomorrow.”
    “Couldn’t you get the train?” I was miffed about his refusal to tell me anything. I felt he was taking advantage. And his breakfast things were still beside him on the counter. Huh. He might have put them in the dishwasher, instead of expecting me to tidy up after him. I spooned coffee into a mug. I didn’t ask if he wanted any.
    “Okay. Can you lend me fifty quid?”
    “It can’t be that much for a cheap day single. Under a tenner, I’d say.”
    “I’d have to get taxis both ends. Easier to go door to door. And it would be nice to have your company, too.” He got up and took his plate and cup to the dishwasher, and stacked them neatly inside.
    I gave him a suspicious look. He was being charming again.
    “Does he know you’re coming?”
    “No.”
    “How do you know he’ll be there?”
    “The housekeeper told me he’d be back tomorrow.”
    “Why don’t you ring him?” A sleek new mobile lay beside the laptop.
    “I haven’t got his number. He went ex-directory.”
    This seemed distinctly odd to me. “But you’re quite sure he’ll have you to stay?”
    “Fairly sure.” A shadow passed over Ric’s face. “He owes me. Go on, Caz, I’ll talk to you this time. I promise. Tell you the story of my life. From fame and fortune to the gutter.” He grinned at me. “I’ll let you be my sidekick.”
    Like I said, I’m a fool. I agreed.

    So, that Saturday morning my van crept and juddered along the Marylebone Road towards the Westway, the sun behind us. The van doesn’t like going slowly. Sometimes it gets overwrought and has to rest for a while. The traffic’s been terrible along there ever since the Con Charge came in, though I’d thought it would be okay at the weekend. That was a mistake. Every now and then, I noticed the occupants of neighbouring cars giving sidelong glances at Ric sitting beside me. He had the window down and his bare forearm resting along the edge, Dog on his lap.
    “Maybe you should get in the back. Everyone’s looking at you.”
    He got out a pair of dark glasses and put them on, as though that made him invisible. A powder-blue VW convertible drew level and its driver gazed at him. He looked away. I forbore to comment. The truck on my right hooted, and when I glanced up the man in the passenger seat said, “Heya!” and whooped. I