Read Online Fluke by James Herbert - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: James Herbert
Tags: Horror
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same time - not an easy thing to do. He gulped the last morsel into his throat, smacked his thin lips with his tongue and growled. 'Don't take liberties, shrimp. You'll get your turn, just be patient.' He looked up at the man who was laughing at the pair of us. 'What about something for the pup?' Rumbo asked.
'I suppose yer want something for the pup now, do yer?' the man asked. His tired old eyes crinkled and his large hooked nose became even more hooked as his grin spread wide across his thin face. He was an interesting colour actually: yellow with deep mahogany etchings patterning his features, greasy but still somehow dry skinned, the oiliness being only on the surface. 'All right then, let's 'ave a look.' He turned away again and as he was about to find me something a voice called out, 'Cuppa tea, Bert.'
One of the porters leaned his elbows against the counter and yawned. He looked down at us and clicked his tongue in greeting. 'You wanna' watch this, Bert, you'll 'ave the inspectors after you if you 'ave too many of these 'anging about.'
Bert was filling a cup with deep brown tea from the most enormous metal teapot I'd ever seen.
'Yerse,' he agreed. 'It's usually the big one on 'is own. Brought a mate today though, probably one of 'is nippers, looks like 'im, dunnit?'
'Nah,' the porter shook his head. 'The big one's a proper mongrel. The little one's a crossbreed. Got a good bit of Labrador in 'im and . . . let's see ... a bit of terrier. Nice little thing.'
I wagged my tail for the compliment and looked eagerly up at Bert.
'All right, all right, I know what you want. 'Er's yer sausage. Eat it and then scarper, you'll 'ave me licence.'
He threw the sausage down at me and I managed to catch it in mid-air; it burnt my tongue though and I had to drop it hastily. Rumbo was on it immediately. He bit it in half and swallowed. I pounced on the other half, but Rumbo stood back, allowing me to gulp it down. My eyes watered from the heat of it and I could feel its warmth working its way down my throat.
'Sorry, squirt, but you're here only because I brought you. You've got to learn respect.' Rumbo looked up at the snack-bar man, barked his thanks and trotted away from the stall.
I glanced at the two chuckling men, said my thanks, and chased after him.
'Where we going now, Rumbo?' I shouted.
'Keep your voice down,' he reprimanded, waiting so I could catch up. 'The trick is not to be conspicuous in a place like this. That's why they don't mind me coming in, because I behave myself, keep out of their way and . . . ' he looked meaningfully at me, seeing I was about to run after a rolling orange which had fallen from one of the display stands "... and I never take anything unless it's offered to me.'
I ignored the orange.
Page 29
We left the market, accepting half a black soggy banana each on our way, and skipped along into the less cluttered streets.
'Where are we going now?' I inquired again.
'We're going to steal some food now,' he answered.
'But you just said back ..."
'We were guests there.'
'Oh.'
We found a butcher's on a busy main road. Rumbo stopped me and peeked round the open doorway.
'We've got to be careful here, I did this place last week,' he whispered.
'Er, look, Rumbo, I don't think ..."
He hushed me up. 'I want you to go in there over to the far corner - don't let him see you till you get there.'
'Look, I'm ...'
'When you're there, make sure he does see you, then you know what to do.'
'What?'
'You know.'
'I don't know. What do you mean?'
Rumbo groaned aloud. 'Save me from stupid mutts,' he said. 'Your business, you do your business.'
'I can't. I can't go in there and do that.'
'You can. You're going to.'
'But I'm not in the mood.' The thought of the danger had put me in the mood, though.
'You'll manage,' Rumbo said smugly. He sneaked a look back inside the shop. 'Quick, now's the time!
He's cutting meat on his slab. Get in there, quick!'
He bustled me in, using his powerful jaws to
'I suppose yer want something for the pup now, do yer?' the man asked. His tired old eyes crinkled and his large hooked nose became even more hooked as his grin spread wide across his thin face. He was an interesting colour actually: yellow with deep mahogany etchings patterning his features, greasy but still somehow dry skinned, the oiliness being only on the surface. 'All right then, let's 'ave a look.' He turned away again and as he was about to find me something a voice called out, 'Cuppa tea, Bert.'
One of the porters leaned his elbows against the counter and yawned. He looked down at us and clicked his tongue in greeting. 'You wanna' watch this, Bert, you'll 'ave the inspectors after you if you 'ave too many of these 'anging about.'
Bert was filling a cup with deep brown tea from the most enormous metal teapot I'd ever seen.
'Yerse,' he agreed. 'It's usually the big one on 'is own. Brought a mate today though, probably one of 'is nippers, looks like 'im, dunnit?'
'Nah,' the porter shook his head. 'The big one's a proper mongrel. The little one's a crossbreed. Got a good bit of Labrador in 'im and . . . let's see ... a bit of terrier. Nice little thing.'
I wagged my tail for the compliment and looked eagerly up at Bert.
'All right, all right, I know what you want. 'Er's yer sausage. Eat it and then scarper, you'll 'ave me licence.'
He threw the sausage down at me and I managed to catch it in mid-air; it burnt my tongue though and I had to drop it hastily. Rumbo was on it immediately. He bit it in half and swallowed. I pounced on the other half, but Rumbo stood back, allowing me to gulp it down. My eyes watered from the heat of it and I could feel its warmth working its way down my throat.
'Sorry, squirt, but you're here only because I brought you. You've got to learn respect.' Rumbo looked up at the snack-bar man, barked his thanks and trotted away from the stall.
I glanced at the two chuckling men, said my thanks, and chased after him.
'Where we going now, Rumbo?' I shouted.
'Keep your voice down,' he reprimanded, waiting so I could catch up. 'The trick is not to be conspicuous in a place like this. That's why they don't mind me coming in, because I behave myself, keep out of their way and . . . ' he looked meaningfully at me, seeing I was about to run after a rolling orange which had fallen from one of the display stands "... and I never take anything unless it's offered to me.'
I ignored the orange.
Page 29
We left the market, accepting half a black soggy banana each on our way, and skipped along into the less cluttered streets.
'Where are we going now?' I inquired again.
'We're going to steal some food now,' he answered.
'But you just said back ..."
'We were guests there.'
'Oh.'
We found a butcher's on a busy main road. Rumbo stopped me and peeked round the open doorway.
'We've got to be careful here, I did this place last week,' he whispered.
'Er, look, Rumbo, I don't think ..."
He hushed me up. 'I want you to go in there over to the far corner - don't let him see you till you get there.'
'Look, I'm ...'
'When you're there, make sure he does see you, then you know what to do.'
'What?'
'You know.'
'I don't know. What do you mean?'
Rumbo groaned aloud. 'Save me from stupid mutts,' he said. 'Your business, you do your business.'
'I can't. I can't go in there and do that.'
'You can. You're going to.'
'But I'm not in the mood.' The thought of the danger had put me in the mood, though.
'You'll manage,' Rumbo said smugly. He sneaked a look back inside the shop. 'Quick, now's the time!
He's cutting meat on his slab. Get in there, quick!'
He bustled me in, using his powerful jaws to
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