Crying in the Dark by Shane Dunphy

Author:Shane Dunphy
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780141935515
Publisher: Penguin Books Ltd
Published: 2013-03-04T05:00:00+00:00

9

At eight o’clock the following morning I left the gym, freshly showered and resplendent with the cheap after-shave they kept in the dressing rooms. I opened the boot of the Austin and chucked my gear bag inside, then sat in and pulled out of the parking lot into the steadily growing stream of traffic. After picking up a copy of the Irish Independent and the latest Empire, I went to a little café not too far from the office, and ordered scrambled eggs, wholegrain toast and a pot of black coffee. It was already a hot day outside, and the morning seemed pregnant with possibility. Despite the events of the previous day, I was in a good mood.

Pouring my third cup, I spotted him, seated three tables ahead of me and trying to hide behind a rumpled Irish Sun. I had to look a couple of times to be certain, but he was doing a bad job of being inconspicuous. I thought about going over, but then decided against it and turned back to the Leader page of my newspaper. As soon as I did so, he peered out from behind the tabloid at me again, then surreptitiously ducked undercover. He might as well have cut a hole in it to peep through; he would only have been moderately more obvious.

He was the young man who had watched me leave Mina’s workshop the day I had discussed sex, the universe and everything with Ellen. That afternoon he was wearing a garish, knitted jumper. This particular morning he sported a psychedelic, tie-dyed T-shirt, which was so bright it made my fillings hurt. Why he’d followed me into the café, I had no idea. He seemed to want to observe me, and I guessed that there was something he wanted to ask. He’d get to it in his own time.

Half an hour later I pushed my chair back and strolled past him to the counter. I gave him a nod as I went by, but he almost put the paper over his head to avoid being seen. I sat in the car for several minutes, waiting for him to leave the café. He rushed out, spotted me watching him and immediately stopped, turning away and putting his hands behind his back and gazing at the window of the newsagents beside him. I shook my head in puzzlement and drove the short distance to work. As I parked across the road from Dunleavy House, I saw the lad pulling up several spaces behind on a Honda 50 moped. He had a very stylish, sporty helmet, which covered his face, but his explosively coloured top made him instantly recognizable.

I had some administration to catch up on, so I did not linger. If my new friend wanted to talk to me, he knew where I was.

I spent an hour writing and filing reports, then went up to the small library that occupied the loft of the building. I wanted to research an idea I had been considering for the Byrnes.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.