The Runaway. Ali Harper
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Название: The Runaway

Автор: Ali Harper

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература

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isbn: 9780008354305

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СКАЧАТЬ The fear in her voice unmistakeable, she might as well have unwrapped it and placed it on the table in front of us.

      ‘Do we know what?’ asked Jo.

      ‘We found your note,’ I said. I felt the need to reassure her, although I didn’t really know why. ‘That’s all we know – that you’re looking for him too.’

      She stared at me for a moment and I knew she was working out whether to trust me. ‘I don’t have his phone number. He didn’t reply to my Facebook message. I didn’t know what else to do.’

      ‘He’s not answering his phone,’ I said. ‘We’ve tried too.’

      ‘He’s not coming, is he?’

      I shook my head. ‘No one’s seen him since the weekend.’

      She nodded, like she wasn’t surprised. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ she said. Her voice quiet, matter of fact.

      ‘Shall we go somewhere else – somewhere where we can talk?’ I asked. Jo wasn’t saying much, I noticed. ‘What’s your name?’

      ‘Sara.’

      ‘I’m Lee. This is Jo. Maybe we can help you. You’re trying to find him. We’re trying to find him. Maybe we can help each other.’

      She stared at me like she had no idea what I was talking about.

      ‘Find him, I mean,’ I said. I coughed to clear the frog in my throat but it didn’t seem to make any difference.

      ‘You won’t,’ she said.

      ‘Not saying much for our fine detective skills.’ I tried a smile to show I was joking.

      ‘He doesn’t want to be found,’ she said.

      ‘Well, we’ve been there before.’ I frowned at Jo. She hadn’t said a word for the last minute.

      Jo licked her lips and the saliva shone under the UV light. ‘At least hear us out,’ she said. ‘Give us half a chance.’

      Sara nodded. ‘No point waiting here. What was I thinking? Fucking moron.’ I didn’t know whether she was referring to herself or Matt. She pulled the pint towards her and necked half of it.

      ‘Shall we—?’ Jo started, but I didn’t get to hear the end of her sentence because a dash of orange filled my vision and I heard someone shout, ‘Where is he?’

      I felt the wet splash of cold lager down my right thigh. The other leg of my shorts was still damp from the cup of tea incident back at the office. Sara’s forehead creased up.

      ‘Get lost.’

      ‘Don’t you dare, you cow.’

      I turned round, already knowing what I was going to see. Nikki, standing behind me, empty pint glass in her hand, her face red, spit flying from her lips. ‘Might have known you’d be sniffing around. Can’t keep your hands—’

      ‘All right, Nikki.’ Jo grabbed her arm. ‘Let’s not turn this into an episode of Eastenders, eh?’ She turned Nikki around and pushed her in the direction of the exit.

      ‘I want to know where he is,’ Nikki shouted over her shoulder. She hurled the pint glass to the floor and shards of glass splintered across the wooden floorboards.

      The barman stared at us. He wasn’t much older than Nikki. I looked at Sara. She shrugged her shoulders.

      ‘Shall we?’ I said.

      Sara drained the remainder of her pint and stood up. It felt like every single person in the bar had stopped speaking. Sara, to give her credit, held her head up and made her way through the bar towards the door.

      A man with a nose stud put his hand on my arm. ‘That was my pint,’ he said, gesturing towards the remains of the glass Nikki had smashed.

      ‘Sorry.’ I tried to shake his hand off.

      ‘You owe me a pint.’

      ‘I didn’t chuck it.’

      ‘Your mate did.’

      I lost sight of Sara as she disappeared through the door of the bar and into the corridor outside. I fished in my pocket and found a crumpled fiver and shoved it into his hands. ‘Here.’

      When I emerged through the door into the corridor outside, Sara was over by the far wall, bent down to tie her shoelace.

      As I got closer, I realized she wasn’t tying her shoelace. In fact her boots didn’t have laces.

      ‘I can’t deal with this,’ she said, and I saw that she was crying. Not crying like she was sad. Crying like she was in pain.

      ‘What’s the matter?’ I said. I glanced around for Jo.

      ‘Leave me alone,’ she said. And I wanted to, I really did. Emotional scenes are not my strong point.

      She jumped up, turned and ran and I hesitated, didn’t know what to do. I’d probably be able to match her for speed but something held me back from chasing. I scanned the corridor again and saw Jo, the back of her, heading the other way, leading Nikki in the direction of the laundrette. I considered the options for a moment. The look on Sara’s face scared me. I couldn’t let her go. I yelled, ‘Back in a minute,’ to Jo and set off. I chased Sara through the Student Union building, up from the basement, out through the main door and down the steps into the courtyard.

      I was still wearing my trainers so I had the advantage. There were lots of students milling about but Sara was tall so she stood out. She turned left and ran in the direction of Hyde Park, but when she got to the end of the courtyard, she paused, turned and stared at me. I was fifty yards behind. She shook her head at me, took a sharp left and disappeared. I felt chastened by her stare, but I carried on. A porter came out of one of the buildings pushing a trolley stacked with cardboard boxes, I had to pause a second so that we didn’t collide. When he’d moved, I continued on round the corner, watched her climb up the steps to one of the buildings, a substantial terraced house. I put on speed, felt my heart start to pound and charged after her. I pushed my way through the front door.

      ‘Where you running to?’ asked a man sitting behind a reception desk.

      ‘Did you see a woman come in here? With black hair?’ I took a breath, tried to compose myself.

      ‘You have to sign in,’ he said. ‘Who’s your appointment with?’

      ‘Did you see her?’ I turned and surveyed my surroundings. There was a staircase up to the left and off the corridor on the right-hand side of the staircase there was another three or four doors. All of them closed.

      He stood up, I think to show he was much bigger than me. He stared at me, like he was waiting for the answer to his question rather than having any intention of answering mine. ‘You’re not a student of this department,’ he said.

      ‘What is this department?’

      ‘There’s a sign on the door,’ СКАЧАТЬ