One Night Only (223 page)

“I’l
l
b
e
a
second,
”
sai
d
Ruth
.
“It
’
s
time
s
lik
e
thes
e
that
I’
m
gla
d
I’
m
no
t
a
skinn
y
littl
e
run
t
lik
e
you!
”

Sh
e
steppe
d
ou
t
o
f
th
e
ca
r
an
d
Poll
y
watche
d
he
r
open
the
red
iron
gate
and
make
her
way
up
the
short
pathway
tha
t
le
d
t
o
th
e
re
d
doo
r
.
A
ma
n
opene
d
th
e
doo
r
and peere
d
out
,
an
d
the
n
hi
s
fac
e
turne
d
whit
e
wit
h
shock
.

Poll
y
woun
d
dow
n
he
r
windo
w
.
Sh
e
wa
s
no
t
missing
ou
t
o
n
this
!

“Ruth
?
Wha
t
o
n
earth
?
Wha
t
th
e
hel
l
ar
e
yo
u
doing here?
”
h
e
asked
.
Hi
s
voic
e
squeake
d
lik
e
a
teenager
’
s
.

“O
h
pu
t
a
soc
k
i
n
it
,
Brian!
”
sai
d
Rut
h
“
I
won
’
t
be long
.
I’
m
her
e
fo
r
on
e
thin
g
an
d
on
e
thin
g
onl
y
.
”

Bria
n
wa
s
a
miserable-lookin
g
creatur
e
an
d
Poll
y
wanted t
o
screa
m
al
l
sort
s
o
f
obscenitie
s
hi
s
wa
y
,
bu
t
sh
e
reckoned
tha
t
Rut
h
ha
d
i
t
al
l
unde
r
control
.

“
Y
o
u
can
’
t
!
No
,
yo
u
can
’
t!
”
sai
d
Brian
.
H
e
wa
s
i
n
his
soc
k
sole
s
an
d
hi
s
beig
e
slack
s
flappe
d
i
n
th
e
win
d
when h
e
steppe
d
outside
.
Hi
s
red-and-whit
e
strip
y
jump
y
was
lik
e
a
n
embarrassin
g
gif
t
fro
m
a
n
agein
g
aun
t
an
d
his
thick-rimme
d
glasse
s
wer
e
lopsided
.

“Oh
,
yes
,
I
ca
n
an
d
i
f
yo
u
a
s
muc
h
a
s
com
e
nea
r
me
righ
t
no
w
,
I
wil
l
knoc
k
you
r
light
s
ou
t
an
d
yo
u
kno
w
it,” sai
d
Ruth
.
“
Y
ou’r
e
nothin
g
bu
t
a
pussy-whippe
d
wimp,
Bria
n
Monaghan
,
an
d
I
a
m
ashame
d
t
o
sa
y
yo
u
ar
e
my
brother!
”

Sh
e
lifte
d
a
beautifu
l
gree
n
summe
r
sea
t
a
s
i
f
sh
e
was
liftin
g
a
smal
l
chil
d
an
d
carrie
d
i
t
wit
h
eas
e
dow
n
the garde
n
pat
h
a
s
Bria
n
looke
d
o
n
wit
h
hi
s
mout
h
ope
n
in
shock
.
Poll
y
ha
d
n
o
ide
a
wha
t
he
r
frien
d
wa
s
u
p
to
,
bu
t
it certainl
y
wa
s
havin
g
a
n
effec
t
o
n
th
e
‘Where
’
s
W
ally’
lookalik
e
tha
t
stoo
d
s
o
haplessl
y
i
n
fea
r
o
f
he
r
.
Rut
h
was
still
muttering
as
she
manoeuvred
the
summer
seat
throug
h
th
e
narro
w
gate
.

Poll
y
steppe
d
ou
t
o
f
th
e
Jee
p
t
o
hel
p
he
r
.

“Thi
s
shoul
d
neve
r
,
eve
r
hav
e
bee
n
take
n
fro
m
my
father
’
s
hom
e
an
d
place
d
i
n
fron
t
o
f
Raymon
d
Dillon
’
s
house
!
H
e
woul
d
tur
n
i
n
hi
s
grav
e
i
f
h
e
eve
r
though
t
his
ow
n
humbl
e
wor
k
wa
s
displaye
d
s
o
blatantl
y
an
d
so
vulgarly
!
T
urn
s
m
y
stomach
!
W
ell
,
I
hav
e
i
t
bac
k
no
w
,
Dadd
y
,
an
d
n
o
as
s
o
f
n
o
Dillo
n
wil
l
eve
r
si
t
o
n
i
t
again
,
you ca
n
res
t
assured
.
Don
’
t
com
e
nea
r
me
,
Brian
!
I
mea
n
it
,
don
’
t
com
e
nea
r
me!
”