Winterton Blue Read Online Free PDF Page A

either of them would react. But he hadn’t given much thought to Carl’s father. He’d found out from a neighbour that his own mother had moved a year or so ago—perhaps Manny would’ve upped sticks as well, or he might not even
want
to help Lewis find her: Manny might not even want to see him. Lewis was starting to think it was a waste of time.
    At his second knock, the nets at the window shivered, low down, and up underneath them poked the head of a ginger cat. It glided along the sill, pressing its body flat on the glass, until Manny’s face appeared above it. To Lewis, he looked very old; older than the twenty years’ aging he’d expected. But Manny recognized Lewis straight off.
    Come round the back, son, he said, with a wave of his arm; as if it were yesterday.
    The kitchen door was open, with Manny’s boots side by side on the mat. Lewis stepped round them, saw Manny framed in the hallway, his bowed legs and socked feet, wearing a faded lumberjack shirt, and the look on his face made Lewis’s muscles spasm. Instead of running away, he said,
    You should keep this door shut, Manny. They’ll rob you blind.
    Aa-hah, said Manny, with a laugh that sounded like a sob, Take me eye,
    And come back for me eyebrow, finished Lewis, grinning at the familiar punchline.
    Nothing worth nicking, chief, said Manny, stepping up to embrace him. He breathed the words into Lewis’s neck, patting his back. Lewis could feel how shrunk he’d become. The greeting was over in a second. Manny covered the moment by turning to switch the kettle on, fiddling about in the cupboard above his head, bringing out an extra cup tojoin the single one already on the counter. He didn’t see how much this embrace had cost Lewis, who was biting down hard on his lip, tasting a long-ago smell: Brut 33.
    Instant do you? Manny asked.
    Lewis managed a smile.
    I’m used to better.
    Manny wiped both cups with a tea-towel and chinked them down in the silence. A short, cautious breath; maybe there was a joke to follow, or a change of subject.
    Oh, I know, said Manny, It’s all cappo-latto-cinquequento served in a thimble.
    With
froth
on top, said Lewis.
    They’re everywhere now, said Manny, Them cafés. Can’t move for them down the precinct. Can’t even buy a cup of tea.
    Lewis leaned against the cooker. He couldn’t be sure of the territory; he’d wait to be asked before he sat down.
    See you’ve got a cat, he said, Thought Sylvie didn’t like them.
    Yup, that’s Ned, said Manny, I’ve shut him in front, like. Come and say hello.
    He put the cups on a tray and nodded Lewis through to the living-room. Along the hall, a metal hand-rail had been fitted. Another was fixed to the wall opposite the stairs.
    How
is
Sylvie? asked Lewis, running his hand along the rail, not liking the feel of it.
    Manny’s voice was low behind him,
    She went, oh, two years ago, now. Mind, he said, as Lewis turned his head to take in this news, He’ll be round your leg like a pole dancer.
    Lewis fathomed the sudden change of subject, and played his part in it.
    D’you get them in the precinct, as well? he asked.
    Two for one on Friday nights, said Manny, as he squeezed through the door.
    Inside the room, everything was much as Lewis remembered it. A pair of easy chairs facing each other, with a low table between them; a high, built-in bookshelf full of ornaments and photographs in cardboard frames; and a tiled fireplace the colour of caramel. Only the television was different: a massive oblong in brushed metal, taking up the whole corner of the room. A sheet of blue smoke hung in the air. Manny invited Lewis to take the opposite chair, which he did, noticing the flecks of cat hair clinging to the cushion. As soon as he sat down, Ned jumped up, clawing a circle into his thighs. Lewis picked the cat from his lap and put it down on the floor. Next to the chair, propped against the