Read Online King Rich by Joe Bennett - Free Book Online Page A

boy, one girl, of course, brought up in Sydney and Singapore and anywhere else that stainless steel took me, before going back to Auckland and an amicable divorce that neither of us regrets.’
    â€˜And the kids?’
    Vince shrugged. ‘I wasn’t much of a dad, Annie. I tried, and I’d have died for either of them, and I was a good provider, but it was their mother that raised them really. One’s in Auckland, the other Brisbane. They’ve both got kids. I visit. But I’m not much of a granddad either, as it happens. No one minds when I leave. No, really, I’m not kidding.’
    â€˜And your ex?’
    â€˜Remarried. Happily. Fifteen years we did together and apart from the kids it’s left nothing with me. Not as much as one night in the Zetland in, what, 1968, or thereabouts. But hey, no complaints.’
    Vince had taken early retirement. He did ‘a bit of consulting’, sat on a couple of boards, but didn’t really need to work. ‘I’m sixty, Annie. When I was a kid, sixty was the end. You put your slippers on as soon as you could after that and became an officially old person and waited to die. But I feel fine. I’ve kept myself fit, I go running, I even play squash. I just don’t know why. What’s the point? I mean there’s a good chance I’ve got thirty years in front of me and at the moment I don’t want them. I’ve led my life, for better or worse, had my kids, made my money and now there’s nothing for me to do. I’ll level with you, Annie. I welcomed the quake. It was somethinghappening. And I’m only sorry in a way that it didn’t do more damage to my life, didn’t force me out of the path of least resistance. But at least it put me in touch with you.’ And he smiled, rather boyishly.
    â€˜Do you want to help me find my dad?’ said Annie.
    â€˜Try and stop me,’ he said.
    * * *
    The known facts were listed down the left-hand side of the sheet of A3. They weren’t many. Year of birth, mother’s Christian name (Meg) but not father’s, name and dates of secondary schooling (but not primary). The rest was all speculation or a possible plan of campaign, apart from an oil smear from a piece of battered cod and a sickle-shaped stain from the foot of a wine glass.
    â€˜Do you think we’ll find him?’ asked Annie. ‘We know so little.’
    â€˜I don’t know.’
    â€˜That wasn’t what I asked,’ said Annie. They had drunk a bottle and a half of Rook’s Lane shiraz. ‘Do you think we’ll find him?’
    â€˜Yes,’ said Vince. ‘I do. It’s hard to hide these days. And besides, in business I’ve always found that if you believe you’re going to succeed, you tend to succeed. If you don’t believe, you won’t. And more to the point, thank you, Annie.’
    â€˜For what?’
    â€˜I’m looking forward to tomorrow.’ And he opened his arms to offer her a hug. He smelt of fish and chips and eau de Cologne and shiraz.
    â€˜I slept with your dad once,’ he said.

Chapter 9
    â€˜Chernobyl,’ says Richard, laying the crumb trail on the window sill. ‘I saw it on the telly. It’s the new Eden. Bears and birds and flowers and everything flourishing but no people. The cleansed earth. What do you think, Friday? The city heals itself. You’ll have to fight for your living. No more sponging off the master species. No more sucking up to Homo sapiens . You’ll have to go out and be a dog again. Join a pack, maybe. Hunt. How does that sound?’
    And it clearly sounds good to the dog because his tail sweeps the floor, and Richard tosses him a chunk of mini-bar biscuit, which he leaps and captures in midair.
    â€˜Now, you know the drill, Friday.’ Richard gestures downwards with his palm and the dog lies slowly, folding itself to the floor, then lowering its head onto its paws but not