The Last Four Things Read Online Free PDF Page B

must’ve been a bit of a dunce.’
    â€˜And why’s that?’
    â€˜What’s the point of tempting someone with something they don’t want?’
    The unexpectedness of Bosco’s diversion meant that they had little water and no food for two days. But Kleist had shot a fox and they were waiting with sore stomachs for it to cook.
    â€˜Do you think it’s ready?’
    â€˜Better wait,’ said Kleist. ‘You don’t want to be eating undercooked fox.’
    IdrisPukke didn’t want to be eating fox, undercooked or otherwise. When it was ready Kleist cut it (carving a fox into three equal parts was no mean feat), complete equality of shares being ensured by the law of the acolytes that whoever divided what they were about to eat had to take the smallest portion, an insight into human nature that had it been extended to a great many grander matters would have transformed the history of the world. IdrisPukke was still looking down at the fair third of the crisply done animal on his plate while the other two were on the point of finishing, though a good half-hour of bone and marrow sucking would follow.
    â€˜What’s it like?’ said IdrisPukke.
    â€˜Good,’ said Vague Henri.
    â€˜I mean what’s it taste like?’
    Vague Henri looked up, thoughtfully, trying to be exact in his comparison. ‘A bit like dog.’
    Eating it, it was food after all, IdrisPukke was reminded of pork cooked in axle-grease, if axle-grease tasted anything like it smelt. When, with a full and queasy stomach, he fell asleep, he dreamt all night, as it seemed to him, of teapots pulsating in the night sky. When he woke up with thesky beginning to barely lighten, it was to the sound of Vague Henri cursing in a foul temper.
    â€˜What’s the matter?’
    Vague Henri picked up a rock and hurled it at the ground in a great fury.
    â€˜It’s that shit-bag Kleist. He’s run away, the treacherous bastard.’
    â€˜You’re sure he hasn’t just gone to relieve himself or to be on his own?’
    â€˜Do I look like an idiot?’ replied Vague Henri. ‘He’s taken all his stuff.’ He continued pouring execrations on Kleist’s head for a good five minutes until picking up the same rock and throwing it down with a last burst of temper, he sat down and boiled in silence.
    After leaving him in silence for a few minutes, IdrisPukke asked him why he was so angry. Vague Henri looked back at him, indignant as well as bewildered.
    â€˜He left us in the lurch.’
    â€˜How so?’
    â€˜It’s …’ He was unable to put an exact finger on why. ‘… obvious.’
    â€˜Well, perhaps. But why shouldn’t he leave us in the lurch?’
    â€˜Because he was supposed to be my friend – and friends don’t leave their friends in the lurch.’
    â€˜But Cale isn’t his friend. I heard him say so any number of times. I don’t remember Cale having a good word for him either.’
    â€˜Cale saved his life.’
    â€˜He saved Cale’s life at Silbury Hill – and more than once.’
    Vague Henri gasped in irritation.
    â€˜What about me? He was supposed to be my friend.’
    â€˜Did you ask him if he wanted to come with us?’
    â€˜He didn’t say anything when we started.’
    â€˜Well, he’s said something now.’
    â€˜Why couldn’t he say it to my face?’
    â€˜I suppose he was ashamed.’
    â€˜There you are then.’
    â€˜There you are nothing. Granted that judged by the highest standards of saintliness he should have explained his reasoning to you personally and in full. You claim to be his friend – has Kleist ever implied any aspirations to saintliness?’
    Vague Henri looked away as if he might find someone ready to support his case. He said nothing for some time and then laughed – a sound partly humorous, partly