me?’
‘No.’
There was silence between them for a while, both of them realising that their friendship had run its course. Prince Carl rose from his chair. He nodded at Count Rene, who dropped his head and gave one nod. Prince Carl made for the door and let himself out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Listening to the fire chief giving his order, Cox suddenly said, ’Bloody hell, where’s Smiler?’ Standing next to him Rafferty, wearing a frown that said, Who cares? shrugged.
Cox hurried back to the car. At first glance it looked like no one was inside. Opening the back door, he saw Smiler crouched in a ball on the floor, crying his eyes out.
‘What’s up, kid?’ Cox asked.
Smiler looked up, tears running down his face, trapped in the deep smile lines carved at each side of his mouth.
‘Rita says he’s all right.’ He heaved a sigh of relief, as he tried to wipe the tears away. ‘He is. If Rita says he’s all right, he really, really is. She knows.’
‘Who’s Rita?’
‘She...she’s a friend. She can see loads better than me, she knows when things are happening. I’m never sure if they’re happening now, gonna happen or already have. She says his spark is burning bright.’
Cox puffed out his cheeks, shrugged, and said, ‘OK, if Rita says he’s all right, who am I to argue with her?’
‘Technically Rita’s a him. She’s a transvestite, she likes dressing in women’s clothes----’
Cox held his hand up. ‘I know what a transvestite is, thanks. Met more than one. And I know the difference between a transvestite and a drag queen. My opinion? It's up to them. So let's get you out of here, lad.’ As he moved his hand down to help Smiler, he was thinking, this whole bloody thing just gets weirder and weirder. He said, ‘Come on then, sunshine, move it.’
Hesitatingly, Smiler held out his hand for Cox to help him up thinking, Get a grip, get a grip, behaving like a fucking girl! He ground his teeth together.
Seven years old was the last time Smiler had cried. He’d vowed then, when the man had wiped his tears with a grin on his face, and walked away without looking back, never to cry again. He’d managed just fine up till now. It was good not to feel, easier to survive. And then he’d met Mike, and everything changed. Now he could feel, but now he could also hurt…again.
Once out of the car, Smiler started rambling, ‘I can't see him, but Rita can. Rita says he’s fine.’
Having seen the state of the car and heard what the fireman had to say, Cox doubted this very much. But he said, ‘So, er - tell me more about this Rita.'
Smiler sighed, but it was an impatient sigh, dredged up by the memories he’d just had. He snapped, ‘ Friggin' hell… Rita lives in London, she knows a lot of things, if she says she can see Mike, then she can. OK?’
‘See him how?’
‘In her mind, of course, where else?’ Smiler looked at Cox as if he was an idiot. ‘I can't tell the difference if they are in a coma or unconscious or dead… They sort of just go away.’ He clenched his fists to stop them from trembling, clinging faithfully to what Rita had told him, starting to get slightly edgy from the fact that this copper who he hardly knew seemed to doubt him.
‘So where’s Rita now?' Cox asked.
‘In London.’
‘Phone you, did she?’
‘No.’
‘Am I missing something?’
Smiler glared at him from under his eyelids, and stubbornly refused to be drawn into any more question and answer sessions.
Too nosy, this one. He might be one of Mike’s friends, but he also might be after something else.
By this time they had reached the edge. They looked over and watched as two firemen, both tied to an engine, and each of them carrying a winching cable, very carefully, inch by inch, made their way down the rocky slope.
The fireman on the left reached the car a couple of seconds before the other one. Deftly he slipped the cable under the front axle, looped it over and clipped it together. Giving
‘No.’
There was silence between them for a while, both of them realising that their friendship had run its course. Prince Carl rose from his chair. He nodded at Count Rene, who dropped his head and gave one nod. Prince Carl made for the door and let himself out.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Listening to the fire chief giving his order, Cox suddenly said, ’Bloody hell, where’s Smiler?’ Standing next to him Rafferty, wearing a frown that said, Who cares? shrugged.
Cox hurried back to the car. At first glance it looked like no one was inside. Opening the back door, he saw Smiler crouched in a ball on the floor, crying his eyes out.
‘What’s up, kid?’ Cox asked.
Smiler looked up, tears running down his face, trapped in the deep smile lines carved at each side of his mouth.
‘Rita says he’s all right.’ He heaved a sigh of relief, as he tried to wipe the tears away. ‘He is. If Rita says he’s all right, he really, really is. She knows.’
‘Who’s Rita?’
‘She...she’s a friend. She can see loads better than me, she knows when things are happening. I’m never sure if they’re happening now, gonna happen or already have. She says his spark is burning bright.’
Cox puffed out his cheeks, shrugged, and said, ‘OK, if Rita says he’s all right, who am I to argue with her?’
‘Technically Rita’s a him. She’s a transvestite, she likes dressing in women’s clothes----’
Cox held his hand up. ‘I know what a transvestite is, thanks. Met more than one. And I know the difference between a transvestite and a drag queen. My opinion? It's up to them. So let's get you out of here, lad.’ As he moved his hand down to help Smiler, he was thinking, this whole bloody thing just gets weirder and weirder. He said, ‘Come on then, sunshine, move it.’
Hesitatingly, Smiler held out his hand for Cox to help him up thinking, Get a grip, get a grip, behaving like a fucking girl! He ground his teeth together.
Seven years old was the last time Smiler had cried. He’d vowed then, when the man had wiped his tears with a grin on his face, and walked away without looking back, never to cry again. He’d managed just fine up till now. It was good not to feel, easier to survive. And then he’d met Mike, and everything changed. Now he could feel, but now he could also hurt…again.
Once out of the car, Smiler started rambling, ‘I can't see him, but Rita can. Rita says he’s fine.’
Having seen the state of the car and heard what the fireman had to say, Cox doubted this very much. But he said, ‘So, er - tell me more about this Rita.'
Smiler sighed, but it was an impatient sigh, dredged up by the memories he’d just had. He snapped, ‘ Friggin' hell… Rita lives in London, she knows a lot of things, if she says she can see Mike, then she can. OK?’
‘See him how?’
‘In her mind, of course, where else?’ Smiler looked at Cox as if he was an idiot. ‘I can't tell the difference if they are in a coma or unconscious or dead… They sort of just go away.’ He clenched his fists to stop them from trembling, clinging faithfully to what Rita had told him, starting to get slightly edgy from the fact that this copper who he hardly knew seemed to doubt him.
‘So where’s Rita now?' Cox asked.
‘In London.’
‘Phone you, did she?’
‘No.’
‘Am I missing something?’
Smiler glared at him from under his eyelids, and stubbornly refused to be drawn into any more question and answer sessions.
Too nosy, this one. He might be one of Mike’s friends, but he also might be after something else.
By this time they had reached the edge. They looked over and watched as two firemen, both tied to an engine, and each of them carrying a winching cable, very carefully, inch by inch, made their way down the rocky slope.
The fireman on the left reached the car a couple of seconds before the other one. Deftly he slipped the cable under the front axle, looped it over and clipped it together. Giving
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