Free The Red House by Mark Haddon

to him her face was blank. She hooked her hair behind her ear like her mum did.
    Here it comes , she thought. Because this was what she liked, this tension in the air, the way you could play someone.
    What’s the book?
    She flipped it over.
    Good? He sat and swang his legs like a little boy.
    Uh-huh . You had to say as little as possible and let the other person fill the gaps.
    So . He looked down at his swinging feet. Did he look casual andrelaxed? It was hard to see yourself from the outside. How do you like it here?
    About one out of ten .
    So what’s the one?
    He wanted her to say it was him. Peace and quiet, time to think . She lifted the fizzy little glass of gin and tonic. No lemon. But needs must, right?
    I bet you don’t really like peace and quiet .
    He wasn’t bad at this.
    I love it here. You know, the space, the view from up there .
    Or from down here . She raised an eyebrow.
    They were silent for a while. Now. Go for it. He reached out and put a hand on her thigh. The warmth of her skin under her jeans. They looked at the hand, like a bird they didn’t want to scare away. He turned and kissed her. She tasted so good. She put her hand on his chest but he couldn’t stop because sometimes girls pretended they didn’t want to and it was so hard to turn back. His hand was on one of her breasts. But he smelled faintly of sweat and he was pushing his tongue into her mouth and she was surprised by how strong he was. She grabbed one of his fingers and bent it back. Just fucking stop, OK?
    He sat back. Sorry .
    Christ .
    I got carried away .
    I noticed .
    They sat beside each other, saying nothing. A helicopter buzzed over Black Hill like a housefly. The taste of her mouth. He still had an erection. Melissa got down off the wall. Anyway. Things to do. People to see . She walked off toward the door carrying her book and Alex had absolutely no idea what to think.
    There was a random collection of Victorian engravings in the house, purchased as a job lot from the dump bin of a gallery-cum-junk shop in Gloucester. The North Gable of Whitby Abbey; a dog baitinga bear; Walter Devereux, Earl of Essex; the Brampton hunt at full pelt; a baroque faux-temple of indeterminate location; Mount Serbal from Wády Feirán …
    Louisa slotted her iPhone onto the dock and pressed Play. She squeezed the handles of the tin opener and the sharp little wheel popped through the metal lid. U2. “Where the Streets Have No Name.” She poured the beans into the colander and rinsed off the gluey purple juice. There was no food processor so she used the potato masher, banging it on the rim when the holes became clogged. It made her think of her mother in the kitchen, beef dripping and hand mixers. What are you doing?
    I’m selecting a snack , said Benjy. He loved standing in the golden light and the cold air that poured out of the fridge with its treasure hoard of food.
    Well, if you could select quickly I would be really grateful .
    He selected and shut the fridge door. That thump and tinkle. Then he was gone. The pepper grinder was empty so she took the little plastic tub off the shelf, ridges round the lid like a fat white coin. She took it off and smelled the contents. Absolutely nothing. Like house dust.
    Benjy walked into the dining room, peeling back the little plastic cover then licking the yogurty patch on his trousers where it had spilt. He put the pot to one side and then folded a sheet of A4 paper into eight so that it formed a little book. He took out the pen that wrote in eight colors. It would be called A Hundred Horrible Ways to Die and it would include torture and killing but not cancer. But Mum was standing beside him. Who said you could have that yogurt, young man?
    Auntie Louisa did .
    Is that a lie?
    Only slightly .

    Now the suitors waited for evening to come by entertaining themselves with dances and happy songs … But Richard was falling asleep.
    To be honest , said Angela, it’s not just the Richard thing .
    Go on