By Mike Ripley
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Extra info for Angel Hunt
He didn’t hear a thing,’ Prentice said, nodding. Well, neither had I until Billy had either slipped or tried to open that skylight window. I lowered myself down off the fence. ’ ‘I’d got that far. ’ ‘You knew Billy …’ ‘Like hell. Briefly and very much in the past tense, and I don’t mean ‘cos he’s dead. I knew him once, a long time go. ’ ‘He hasn’t seen me or thought about me for ten years, as far as I’m aware, and he couldn’t have known I’d be in that house. ’ He put his hands in his pockets and walked off.
He’s coming home. ’ ‘I rang him last night, and he’s flying back today or tomorrow. I think it a good excuse to get away from his family. I don’t blame him. ’ He looked at me as if I’d crawled out from under the Axminster. ‘We are. Hey! ’ I shook my head and wondered if there was any room spare on the next space shuttle. ’ That wouldn’t take long. I was wearing most of it. ’ Merry Christmas. ’ He looked daggers at me, so I pressed on before they drew blood. ’ as part of the window-frame dropped onto the bathroom carpet.
There were no women. Come to think of it, I wasn’t that keen on it either, though it did serve a cracking pint of Young’s bitter. So good, I ordered a low-al lager so as not to get locked into a session. Bunny saw me and gave me a brief nod, then went back to talking to a young black dude wearing a blue trenchcoat and nursing a colour-coordinated Filofax. Only the die-hards used them now; that was the first one I’d seen in captivity for some months. Maybe only the really bad cases, those who were hooked, had to keep their habit going.
Angel Hunt by Mike Ripley