【有声英语文学名著】CHAPTER FOUR（16）

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Rattling¹ on like a . . . mad old cow. I‘m sorry, I‘m tired, bad day, and I‘m sorry for being so . . . boring.‘

You‘re not that boring.‘

I am, Dex. God, I swear, I bore myself.‘

Well you don‘t bore me.‘ He took her hand in his. You could never bore me. You‘re one in a million, Em.‘

I‘m not even one in three.‘

He kicked her foot with his. Em?‘

What?‘

Just take it, will you? Just shut up and take it.‘

They regarded each other for a moment. He lay down once  more, and after a moment she followed  and  jumped  a  little  when  she  found  out  that  he  had  slid  his  arm  beneath  her shoulders. There was a self-conscious moment of mutual² discomfort³ before she turned onto her side and curled towards him. Tightening⁴ his arm  around her, he spoke⁵ into the top of her head.

You know what I can‘t understand? You have all these people telling you all the time how  great  you  are,  smart  and  funny  and  talented  and  all  that,  I  mean  endlessly,  I‘ve  been telling you for years. So why don‘t you believe it? Why do you think people say that stuff, Em? Do you think it‘s a conspiracy⁶, people secretly ganging up to be nice about you?‘

She pressed her head against his shoulder to make him stop or else she felt she might cry. You‘re nice. But I should go.‘

No, stay a bit longer. We‘ll get another bottle.‘ 

 

Isn‘t Naomi waiting for you somewhere? Her little mouth crammed⁷ full of drugs like a little druggy hamster.‘ She puffed⁸ out her cheeks and Dexter laughed, and she began to feel a little better.

They stayed there for a while, then walked down to the off-licence and back up the hill to see the sun set over the city, drinking wine and eating nothing but a large bag of expensive crisps. Strange animal cries could be heard from Regents Park Zoo, and  finally they were the last people on the hill.

I should get home,‘ she said, standing⁹ woozily.

You could stay at mine if you wanted.‘

She thought of the journey home, the Northern Line, the top deck of the N38 bus, then the long perilous¹⁰ walk to the flat that smelt¹¹ unaccountably of fried onions. When she finally got home  the  central  heating  would  probably  be  on  and  Tilly  Killick  would  be  there  with  her dressing-gown hanging open, clinging to the radiators¹² like a gecko and eating pesto out of the jar.  There  would  be  teeth  marks  in  the  Irish  Cheddar  and  thirty something  on  TV,  and  she didn‘t want to go.

 

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