Read Online A Thousand Small Explosions by John Marrs - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: John Marrs
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homophobic stereotype.’
‘I can’t be homophobic, I’m gay – remember?’
‘You’re taking this very seriously.’
‘I just don’t want you thinking that I’m a secret closet case because that’d mean our whole relationship was based on a lie. And this is the most honest relationship I’ve ever been in.’
‘Oh honey come here, I’m only teasing,’ Sally replied. ‘I don’t think you’re gay but you must admit, it’s kind of funny. You’re like that old R Kelly song... “your mind’s telling you no, but your body”…’
‘You are not funny.’ Nick topped up Sally’s glass with wine and took a large gulp himself.
‘Well I don’t know how else to react other than to joke about it, because apparently we are not destined to be together and while the man of my dreams has yet to make himself known, the man of your dreams could be living in the next street to us.’
‘There is no “man of my dreams”…’
‘Not according to the email…’
Nick rolled his eyes.
‘Shall we see if we can find him on Facebook?’ Sally continued.
‘What?’
‘Come on, let’s see if I can find my competition.’
‘No, I don’t want to.’
‘Why, are you scared you might develop a little bit of a crush on your future husband?’
Nick shook his head. ‘Look we don’t even know his surname.’
Sally took the phone from his hand and within three swipes of the keypad, had paid the £9.99 required for more details. ‘Name: Alexander Landers Carmichael,’ she read out loud. ‘Age: 32. Occupation: physiotherapist. Eyes: blue, like mine. Hair: dark, like mine. Height, 5ft 8: again, like me – babe you do have a type don’t you? He sounds like my double.’
‘With three exceptions - two breasts and a vagina.’
‘That should be enough information to find him on Facebook.’
‘I don’t really think I want to…’
‘Oh come on, it’ll be fun.’
Sally typed in Alexander’s name and scrolled down the list of postage stamp sized pictures that appeared. ‘There are a dozen Alexander Carmichaels in London. I’ll use his middle name as there can’t be that many Landers.’
‘Just the one it seems,’ Nick replied, peering over her shoulder.
They simultaneously squinted at the thumbnail photograph and tried to click on to his profile. However Alexander Carmichael’s privacy settings wouldn’t enable anyone who wasn’t his friend to look any further. But even from the small picture, both recognised he was a handsome man. His lantern jaw sported dark stubble, his hair had a slight curl and touched his collar, his lips were full and his eyes were wide and warm.
‘I’ve got to hand it to you, babe,’ smiled Sally, ‘your DNA has really good taste in men.’
CHAPTER 20
ELLIE
Andrei opened the car door for Ellie and she followed him along the canal towpath and into the building ahead.
‘You don’t have to come inside, I’m sure it’ll be okay,’ she told him, fairly sure that there was little danger lying in wait for her in the provincial pub.
‘This is what you pay me for,’ Andrei replied in his husky Eastern European accent, and went inside to scout the room regardless. Throughout the three years in her employment, he had proven he was worth his weight in gold having taken punches and having had a broken bottle thrust into his chest for her. Ellie turned her head to see the other two members of her security detail in a car parked behind the one she’d arrived in.
‘Okay,’ she conceded, ‘but don’t let him see you. Be subtle, I don’t want you scaring him off.’
‘Subtle is my middle name,’ the six-foot-five-inch hulk replied, his tongue placed firmly in his cheek.
Once given the all-clear via text, Ellie entered the Globe country pub in Leighton Buzzard and glanced around with trepidation. Back in her early post-university days she’d often
‘I can’t be homophobic, I’m gay – remember?’
‘You’re taking this very seriously.’
‘I just don’t want you thinking that I’m a secret closet case because that’d mean our whole relationship was based on a lie. And this is the most honest relationship I’ve ever been in.’
‘Oh honey come here, I’m only teasing,’ Sally replied. ‘I don’t think you’re gay but you must admit, it’s kind of funny. You’re like that old R Kelly song... “your mind’s telling you no, but your body”…’
‘You are not funny.’ Nick topped up Sally’s glass with wine and took a large gulp himself.
‘Well I don’t know how else to react other than to joke about it, because apparently we are not destined to be together and while the man of my dreams has yet to make himself known, the man of your dreams could be living in the next street to us.’
‘There is no “man of my dreams”…’
‘Not according to the email…’
Nick rolled his eyes.
‘Shall we see if we can find him on Facebook?’ Sally continued.
‘What?’
‘Come on, let’s see if I can find my competition.’
‘No, I don’t want to.’
‘Why, are you scared you might develop a little bit of a crush on your future husband?’
Nick shook his head. ‘Look we don’t even know his surname.’
Sally took the phone from his hand and within three swipes of the keypad, had paid the £9.99 required for more details. ‘Name: Alexander Landers Carmichael,’ she read out loud. ‘Age: 32. Occupation: physiotherapist. Eyes: blue, like mine. Hair: dark, like mine. Height, 5ft 8: again, like me – babe you do have a type don’t you? He sounds like my double.’
‘With three exceptions - two breasts and a vagina.’
‘That should be enough information to find him on Facebook.’
‘I don’t really think I want to…’
‘Oh come on, it’ll be fun.’
Sally typed in Alexander’s name and scrolled down the list of postage stamp sized pictures that appeared. ‘There are a dozen Alexander Carmichaels in London. I’ll use his middle name as there can’t be that many Landers.’
‘Just the one it seems,’ Nick replied, peering over her shoulder.
They simultaneously squinted at the thumbnail photograph and tried to click on to his profile. However Alexander Carmichael’s privacy settings wouldn’t enable anyone who wasn’t his friend to look any further. But even from the small picture, both recognised he was a handsome man. His lantern jaw sported dark stubble, his hair had a slight curl and touched his collar, his lips were full and his eyes were wide and warm.
‘I’ve got to hand it to you, babe,’ smiled Sally, ‘your DNA has really good taste in men.’
CHAPTER 20
ELLIE
Andrei opened the car door for Ellie and she followed him along the canal towpath and into the building ahead.
‘You don’t have to come inside, I’m sure it’ll be okay,’ she told him, fairly sure that there was little danger lying in wait for her in the provincial pub.
‘This is what you pay me for,’ Andrei replied in his husky Eastern European accent, and went inside to scout the room regardless. Throughout the three years in her employment, he had proven he was worth his weight in gold having taken punches and having had a broken bottle thrust into his chest for her. Ellie turned her head to see the other two members of her security detail in a car parked behind the one she’d arrived in.
‘Okay,’ she conceded, ‘but don’t let him see you. Be subtle, I don’t want you scaring him off.’
‘Subtle is my middle name,’ the six-foot-five-inch hulk replied, his tongue placed firmly in his cheek.
Once given the all-clear via text, Ellie entered the Globe country pub in Leighton Buzzard and glanced around with trepidation. Back in her early post-university days she’d often
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