Rottenhouse Read Online Free PDF Page A

the window and said:
    ‘ Not really, no. Close
the door would you.’
    Lucy closed the door.
The house was silent, whatever Mr Rowling was up to downstairs
wasn’t making any noise. Simon could hear the wind rustling through
the trees and the water cascading down the stream. The rain had
stopped and it wouldn’t be long before the sun started to set and
for night to fall across the valley. He turned away from the
window, removed his light weight jacket, and threw it onto the bed.
He had to be careful here, that old String needed to stay loose and he
knew that if he went too far it would snap, snap like a crocodile’s
mouth.
    ‘ What is it, Simon?
Come on, tell me. I know it’s weird, the whole Lucy, Barbara thing,
but if you think about it; it is perfectly reasonable.’
    ‘ Yeah I get that. But
come on; give me a break, would ya, I mean you threw that bad boy
on me when we were in spitting distance of this place. And then
there was that bloody petrol station with that guy.’
    ‘ What about the petrol
station?’
    ‘ Oh nothing much, just
that I was ripped off by some fat guy dressed in someone else’s
clothes – I am sure of it Lucy, sure of it, they were someone
else’s overalls and there was this stuff coming out of the garage,
it wasn’t oil, well it could have been oil but mixed with
something, I don’t know, I don’t know it was just odd, and he was
odd, this whole fucking place is odd.’
    Lucy sat on the small chair next to her
vanity unit, she looked puzzled but there was something about that
expression that Simon recognised – oh yeah, he recognised it
good.
    ‘ I can see what you
are thinking, Lucy. That I must be imagining the whole thing; that
my mind is playing tricks on me and I am seeing weird stuff coz I
want to see weird stuff.’ Simon took a step forward, leaning over
the bed and pointed a finger at her and then down below them,
toward the kitchen, ‘Well what about what happened down there,
Lucy, all that shit about the club and you not being Lucy and how
he speaks to me and speaks to you, explain that Sherlock friggin
Holmes.’
    ‘ What doya mean,
Simon?’
    ‘ What do I mean? For Christ sake,
Lucy, you were different down there, you were…you were,’ and then
it hit him. Hit him like a truck carrying a trailer full of bricks.
‘You were Barbara.’
    ‘ Stop it,
Simon.’
    ‘ Stop calling me THAT!
For fucks sake, stop calling me THAT!’
    Lucy flinched; her eyes became wide and
startled. ‘Stop calling you what, Simon.’
    ‘ Simon. Stop calling
me Simon. You never call me that. It’s either Si or Sausage or
honey or anyfuckingthing, just not that. Not since we first
met.’
    ‘ I don’t know what you
are talking about.’
    ‘ No, of course not.
Like downstairs when I called you Lucy and you freaked out and
sided with yer dad and made me think I was mental, that I had just
made it all up. You made me think for a minute that you were Barbara and I had
somehow slipped into some alternative universe. How can you answer
that then, hey?’
    She shook her head and blinked in that
God damned condescending way he oh so hated. This was turning into
a crappy start to their holiday and he realised that they were
fighting and they never fought, never argued or raised their voices
to one another.
    ‘ Look, it’s been a
long day, Sausage, (that had been a struggle for her, like
downstairs when he could see the egg timer ticking away behind her
eyes it was the same now) we are both tired and need a nap or
something. Don’t forget that I haven’t been back here in a long
time. This is just as strange for me as it is for you, ya know what
I mean. Just give it time, please.’
    Yeah right, whatever, sweet heart. You
haven’t had your dad talking utter nonsense or been invited to a
night out with a bunch of strangers.
    Maybe he was being too hard on her? It
had been a long time since she left this place. Lucy and her dad
hadn’t talked for long time until two months ago when