again.
She sat on the sofa with her hands covering her face. ‘Is it gone?’
‘I put it in the dustbin.’ He tutted. ‘I don’t understand what it was doing outside our door.’
Kirsty grimaced. ‘Ugh. It was probably trying to get in. It probably smelled the meal last night and wanted some.’
‘You’re mad. Rats don’t try and get in through closed doors!
‘Got a better explanation? I just hope it was the only one. What if there’s a nest? We’ll have to call the council, get the pest control sent out.’
‘Come on, Kirsty, let’s not over-react. It probably got into the building, got trapped and either died of fright or hunger. Although it didn’t look very hungry. It was pretty fat.’
‘Don’t. I don’t want to talk about it. After that dream I had last night, I want to think about pleasant things. Like shopping. Are we still going to go into town this afternoon?’
‘If you want to. But I’ve got to nip down the shop first to get some milk. Do you want anything?’
There was a convenience store just down the road. Jamie went out to buy a paper and a pint of milk. As he walked back up the hill he felt out of breath. He was going to have to get that gym equipment he had promised himself. Get fit. He would be thirty soon, after all. He was already starting to develop a small paunch. When he was twenty-one he had promised himself that if his stomach ever started to curve he would go on a starvation diet to make it flat again: he would give up beer, do two hundred sit-ups a day. Anything to avoid the dreaded spread. But now his metabolism was slowing down, and his willpower was weakening. If he didn’t do something soon he would be well on the way towards looking like all the forty- and fifty-year-old men in his office, their belts holding up their guts, their ties not hanging straight down but curving over like inverted question marks. God, it was a horrifying thought. Far scarier than a dead rat.
As he walked back up the front path, Brian opened the front door and came out.
‘Ah, Jamie, good morning.’
‘Morning.’
Brian stopped. ‘Actually, I was hoping to bump into you. I bought that computer I’ve been promising myself and I’m having a few teething problems with it. I can’t seem to get the internet connection to work properly.’
‘Really? I’ll come and have a look at it if you like.’
He nodded enthusiastically. ‘That would be marvellous. I’m just popping out for a minute. Shall I knock on your door on the way back up. Would that be alright?’
‘Of course.’
The postman had called while Jamie was at the shop. He and Kirsty just had a couple of pieces of junk mail, forwarded on from their previous addresses. Kirsty took the Culture section out of the paper and started to leaf through it.
‘I don’t feel that great,’ she said. ‘I feel a bit sick and dizzy.’
‘You’re not hungover, are you? I didn’t think you drank that much last night.’
‘No. It’s not that. I think I might be coming down with that horrible virus that’s been going round. Either that, or it’s the after-effect of seeing that rat.’
Jamie was concerned. Kirsty was very rarely ill. Working in the hospital, where she was always surrounded by germs and viruses, her immune system had built walls that were six feet thick and bulletproof. He put his hand on her forehead.
‘You feel quite hot. Maybe we’d better stay in this afternoon.’
‘Oh, I’ll probably be better by then. But I’d love a cup of tea. That might help.’
He prepared her tea, and there was a knock at the door.
‘That’ll be Brian. I promised I’d have a look at his PC for him.’
‘Sure. I’m just going to lie here and read the paper.’
He kissed her clammy forehead then opened the door. Chris was standing there, holding a bright green envelope.
‘Oh. I was expecting Brian.’
‘Sorry to disappoint you.’
‘No, I didn’t mean it like that.’
Chris pulled a face to demonstrate that he
She sat on the sofa with her hands covering her face. ‘Is it gone?’
‘I put it in the dustbin.’ He tutted. ‘I don’t understand what it was doing outside our door.’
Kirsty grimaced. ‘Ugh. It was probably trying to get in. It probably smelled the meal last night and wanted some.’
‘You’re mad. Rats don’t try and get in through closed doors!
‘Got a better explanation? I just hope it was the only one. What if there’s a nest? We’ll have to call the council, get the pest control sent out.’
‘Come on, Kirsty, let’s not over-react. It probably got into the building, got trapped and either died of fright or hunger. Although it didn’t look very hungry. It was pretty fat.’
‘Don’t. I don’t want to talk about it. After that dream I had last night, I want to think about pleasant things. Like shopping. Are we still going to go into town this afternoon?’
‘If you want to. But I’ve got to nip down the shop first to get some milk. Do you want anything?’
There was a convenience store just down the road. Jamie went out to buy a paper and a pint of milk. As he walked back up the hill he felt out of breath. He was going to have to get that gym equipment he had promised himself. Get fit. He would be thirty soon, after all. He was already starting to develop a small paunch. When he was twenty-one he had promised himself that if his stomach ever started to curve he would go on a starvation diet to make it flat again: he would give up beer, do two hundred sit-ups a day. Anything to avoid the dreaded spread. But now his metabolism was slowing down, and his willpower was weakening. If he didn’t do something soon he would be well on the way towards looking like all the forty- and fifty-year-old men in his office, their belts holding up their guts, their ties not hanging straight down but curving over like inverted question marks. God, it was a horrifying thought. Far scarier than a dead rat.
As he walked back up the front path, Brian opened the front door and came out.
‘Ah, Jamie, good morning.’
‘Morning.’
Brian stopped. ‘Actually, I was hoping to bump into you. I bought that computer I’ve been promising myself and I’m having a few teething problems with it. I can’t seem to get the internet connection to work properly.’
‘Really? I’ll come and have a look at it if you like.’
He nodded enthusiastically. ‘That would be marvellous. I’m just popping out for a minute. Shall I knock on your door on the way back up. Would that be alright?’
‘Of course.’
The postman had called while Jamie was at the shop. He and Kirsty just had a couple of pieces of junk mail, forwarded on from their previous addresses. Kirsty took the Culture section out of the paper and started to leaf through it.
‘I don’t feel that great,’ she said. ‘I feel a bit sick and dizzy.’
‘You’re not hungover, are you? I didn’t think you drank that much last night.’
‘No. It’s not that. I think I might be coming down with that horrible virus that’s been going round. Either that, or it’s the after-effect of seeing that rat.’
Jamie was concerned. Kirsty was very rarely ill. Working in the hospital, where she was always surrounded by germs and viruses, her immune system had built walls that were six feet thick and bulletproof. He put his hand on her forehead.
‘You feel quite hot. Maybe we’d better stay in this afternoon.’
‘Oh, I’ll probably be better by then. But I’d love a cup of tea. That might help.’
He prepared her tea, and there was a knock at the door.
‘That’ll be Brian. I promised I’d have a look at his PC for him.’
‘Sure. I’m just going to lie here and read the paper.’
He kissed her clammy forehead then opened the door. Chris was standing there, holding a bright green envelope.
‘Oh. I was expecting Brian.’
‘Sorry to disappoint you.’
‘No, I didn’t mean it like that.’
Chris pulled a face to demonstrate that he
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