[Tales from the Forbidden Planet 02] More Tales from the Forbidden Planet by Anthology

Author:Anthology [Anthology]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 1852863307
Publisher: Titan Books
Published: 1990-01-31T16:52:08+00:00

STORM CONSTANTINE

DID YOU EVER SEE OYSTERS WALKING UP THE STAIRS?

ILLUSTRATED BY STEVE YEOWELL

WHAT A HELL of a day that was. Rain like you’ve never seen before, pink lightning … Yes, pink lightning. Tara said it was an omen for strangeness and, looking back, I know she was right. Simon and Dominic moved in that day. They were taking the top floor and Tara and I were all eyes watching their delectable male behinds struggling up the stairs with a less than delectable sofa. Becky was off work sick (she had the other, smaller, middle floor with her boyfriend Al), so she joined us, sniffling, on the stairs to watch the scenery. “Funny coloured light out there isn’t it,” she said to the boys. They made one or two smart remarks which we all laughed at. I don’t remember what they were.

Tara suggested the six of us have dinner together that night, a sort of getting to know each other party. Of course she was overjoyed at the prospect of having two unattached, attractive males around. As our flat was the largest in the building, we would play host. All afternoon, I was shifting junk into the studio from the living room where a lot of our tools and sketches and even half-finished pots had strayed to. Tara was looking forward to telling Simon and Dominic about how we were successful businesswomen. Successful? Well, we kept . our heads above water, that’s about it, but we had a good life. Both of us adore freedom and working for a big pottery would have stifled that for ever. I shook out the coloured shawls that covered the sofas and Tara dragged a duster round the place. We shoved a mixture of mince and vegetables and spices into a pot, called it bolognaise, and hey presto, we were nearly ready.

Eight o’clock and everybody was banging on our door. Thank God they’d had the presence of mind to bring wine; we’d forgotten completely. Becky, by daylight a decent sort, had turned into the clinging, whining limpet she usually was when Al was home. Tara and I made faces, recognising the signs straight away. “Al, why didn’t you get Riesling? You know I hate this one!” Al this, Al that. All we could do was roll our eyes and watch her smother him. He was a nice guy though, thin like a hunter, dark and lissome-looking, so we used to put up with night-time Becky because of that. He was a systems analyst which I thought sounded like some kind of cyber-punk psychotherapist. Computers are not my line really, so it was a relief Al was not the kind of guy to rabbit on about the things out of work’s time.

Tara and I swapped glances across the room when Simon and Dominic arrived. I reckoned we’d both made the assessment of ten out of ten, although I didn’t go for Simon’s slogan T-shirt too much. Dominic, altogether lither and darker, impressed me more with his

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