Read Online Guns 'n' Rose by Robert G. Barrett - Free Book Online Page B

dumped the lot right over Carol’s head almost drowning her. ‘Now, fuckin’ piss off.’
    Carol let out a hideous, startled shriek, spun around and ran off down the front pathway leaving a tiny trail of wet footprints behind her.
    â€˜Are you sure you don’t want a towel?’ Les yelled out before he shut the door. Shaking his head, Norton put the bucket back in the kitchen, then turned out the lights and crashed into bed for the last time; out like a light himself.

 
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    Les didn’t feel too bad and was in half a good mood as he wandered into the kitchen at eight the next morning warbling a few notes of the old Neil Diamond song ‘Sweet Caroline’ in his shorts and yesterday’s blue Tshirt. Outside it was shaping up for another nice day; sunny, with a few clouds around and a light southerly blowing. He got some sausages out of the fridge and, although he was hungry, he didn’t particularly feel like cooking anything and making a mess. As he was contemplating things three old kookaburras landed on the railing around the small sundeck outside the kitchen. Les watched them watching him through the flyscreen door, then cut up one of the sausages and laid it along the railing. It took about two seconds for the kookaburras to start squawking and carrying on amongst themselves as they attacked it.
    â€˜It’s all yours, boys,’ said Norton, smiling at their antics. ‘I’m going down the beach to get the paper, have a swim and get some breakfast down there. Have a nice day.’
    Les threw a towel in his overnight bag and lockedthe front door. There was no sign of Carol out the front and apart from a few magpies and a woman watering her garden just down the street, no sign of anyone. Les got in the Berlina and drove down to Terrigal, where he got a parking spot under the pine trees in almost the same place as the day before.
    The morning sun was sparkling on the ocean and a few people were either walking around or having a swim when Les strolled across the park to the promenade. S’pose I may as well dump my gear in front of the shower block, he thought, climbing out of his shorts and dropping his sunglasses on top of his towel.
    As he jogged across the sand, Les thought he recognised one of the men he’d seen sitting outside the surf club the day before, only now he was coming out of the water carrying a paddle in one hand and a blue racing ski on his head. The tide was half out and there were no waves; Les charged straight in and started wallowing and splashing around in the clean, clear ocean. This soon had him feeling on top of the world and after a good blast of cold water in the shower block Les was feeling even better again. Then he changed into his shorts and a pair of dry Speedos and locked his bag in the car. Now it was breakfast time.
    Restaurants and coffee shops ran right along the main drag. The paper shop was straight across the road and a few doors down on the corner of a narrow, blocked-off laneway was a skinny little place called Coffee Corner. The punters seated inside looked to be mainly locals so Les got the paper and wandered down.
    Small wicker chairs and tables were spread around a colourful mural of Terrigal Haven on the wall anddelicious cooking smells drifted through from a cramped kitchen at the back. A bustly little bloke in a striped polo shirt and glasses was waiting on the tables while two blonde girls did the cooking. Les ordered two toasted ham, cheese, tomato and onion sandwiches and a mug of flat white. They soon arrived and were delicious—scrumptious even—and the coffee wasn’t much short of sensational. He didn’t have to pick James up till eleven so Les took his time flicking through the paper while he enjoyed his toasted sandwiches. He finished his coffee just as two women seated beneath the mural decided to attack a packet of cigarettes and kindly share the smoke with everybody else in the