Read Online Hollywood Ending by Kathy Charles - Free Book Online Page B

curtains and windows were wide open, making me feel a little better about being there. At least if I screamed it would be carried on the wind.
    â€˜YOU!’
    I jumped. Hank was hanging out the window, waving.
    â€˜Hello,’ I called, waving back.
    â€˜Come up! Come up! Christ, don’t just stand there.’
    â€˜Okay.’
    I walked up the stairs. The front door was already open when I got to the top, Hank standing there in a pair of white shorts and a blue Hawaiian shirt. He waved me in. ‘Hurry. Come on, get inside. Quickly.’
    â€˜I’m Hilda,’ I said, stepping inside.
    â€˜I know who you are. What the hell you think I’ve been standing up here waving my arms for? Get inside, quick!’
    Hank threw the door closed behind me, giving one last look outside as if he suspected I’d been followed. The apartment was much cleaner than two days ago. The bottles had been cleared away and the ashtrays emptied, but the smell of alcohol still hung in the air. With the windows open and the breeze coming in, the place seemed much nicer, more inviting. I stood in the doorway as Hank dashed to the kitchen, scooping the kettle off the stove. On the bench were two matching cups and saucers. He poured us tea and brought the cups into the living room.
    â€˜Don’t just stand there like a freakin’ hatstand,’ he growled. ‘Sit down.’
    I sat on the edge of the dusty old couch, as far away from Hank as possible. Again I looked around the room. No easy exits. The door was locked, but if I needed to I could jump out the window, break a few bones. I was curious about people who put themselves in situations where death was almost inevitable. The wife who gives her violent husband a second chance. The girlfriend who lets her ex-boyfriend visit late at night to return her books, a knife concealed in his jacket. I always thought I was much smarter than that, but here I was, in a strange man’s apartment with the door locked and only an open window for escape. Maybe I had a death wish?
    â€˜Tea?’ he said, handing me a cup of hot, milky liquid.
    â€˜No thanks. I can’t stay long.’
    â€˜Sure you can. Take the goddamn tea.’
    I took the cup.
    â€˜Everyone’s always in a rush,’ Hank said. ‘Rushing here and rushing there. No one takes the time to sit anymore.’
    â€˜I really can’t stay long,’ I said again. ‘I’m due back—’
    â€˜To what?’
    â€˜Well, I have stuff to do.’
    â€˜What have you got to do that’s so important?’
    â€˜Excuse me?’
    His lip curled. ‘You heard. A girl who spends her time going into strangers’ houses to take photographs of bathroom sinks ain’t got a lot going on in her life, if you get my meaning.’
    â€˜Kinda hard to miss it.’
    â€˜You know that friend of yours?’
    â€˜Benji?’
    â€˜He’s some kinda asshole. Ain’t as smart as he thinks.’
    I frowned. ‘You said you have something for me?’
    Hank’s eyes were grey and dull. The skin on his legs was dry and scaly, and had flecked off only to get stuck in the spindly hair that grew there. ‘What are you doing with someone like that?’ he asked.
    â€˜There’s nothing wrong with Benji.’
    â€˜Sure there’s not. Comes in and tells an old man someone died in his bathroom.’
    â€˜Look, I’m really sorry about that,’ I said, taking a mouthful of tea and swallowing hard even though it was scalding hot. It would be rude to leave with tea still in my cup, so I decided to drink the whole lot as fast as possible. ‘We shouldn’t have done it. We were just curious.’
    â€˜Yeah, well people do things and once it’s done you can’t take it back. Now here you are. Ain’t nothin’ but consequences in this life.’
    â€˜Consequences huh?’ I tried to sound like I didn’t care, like what