Read Online Louis Beside Himself by Anna Fienberg - Free Book Online

annoying disease she’d picked up somewhere.
    I was burning with questions, but I didn’t know where to begin.
    â€˜It’s not that hard,’ she said, as if reading my mind. ‘One of my stepfathers was an actor. He lived with us longer than most. He used to practise his lines at home, and I just borrowed some. He played a Kiwi gangster. He was a good actor.’
    â€˜Say it again!’
    â€˜ I’ll have t’ chop ya .’
    I doubled over, cacking myself. It was amazing, her transformation. Amazing, too, that I could laugh.
    â€˜Mum was really happy with that guy,’ the burglar went on, ‘so I tried extra hard to show interest in his interests, you know? We’d have these conversations at breakfast, for instance, about things like method acting.’
    â€˜What’s that?’
    â€˜Like when you’re playing a character, you don’t just learn your lines, you become the character in real life, dressing like them, eating like them, trying to find similar experiences in your own life to use on stage . . .Oh, it was exhausting. But worth it to see Mum’s face light up over her boiled egg, watching us, enjoying how well we were all getting along. Like a real family.’ She sighed again. ‘Mum does better when there’s a man living with us. She gets lonely on her own. Or at least, when there’s just the two of us. But her actor boyfriend fell in love with the leading lady, and moved on.’
    â€˜What did your mother do?’
    â€˜Cried for weeks. Lost her job because she couldn’t get it together in the mornings, no matter how many boiled eggs I made her, and no matter how many accents I perfected. That’s why I was glad to see Jimmy walk in – at first.’
    â€˜What was his interest? I mean, what did he do for a job?’
    â€˜Well, it was hard to tell. He was a man of few words. It made me uneasy— ’
    â€˜Me too!’ I shuddered. ‘If there’s one thing I hate, it’s a lack of words. It’s my worst thing.’
    â€˜You sure took your time finding them today. Thought I’d have to send out a search party.’
    I smiled, weakly. ‘Yeah, you can always count on me in a crisis.’
    â€˜Razor-sharp reflexes, hey?’
    I winced. That was too close. My eyes felt hot. ‘But anyway,’ I said quickly, ‘you were saying, about Jimmy . . . ?’
    Her face turned lugubrious again. ‘He said he worked at a bar – nights, you know, pulling beers, making cocktails. And he always smelled like a bar, a real stink, alcohol and fags, but he didn’t seem to have regular shifts. Once, I asked him how to make a Rusty Nail – it’s a kind of cocktail – and he looked shifty, you know, cornered. Even when Mum begged him to show her how, all set to admire his barman skills, he wouldn’t budge. I decided he probably just used to hang out at the bar, drinking with his dodgy friends.’ She frowned.
    In the pause we heard the gate click open. We looked at each other. The girl’s dark eyes grew wide. Adrenalin shot through my chest.
    Then the roar of the skateboard and a crack of laughter broke the tension.
    â€˜Lou?’ Singo was talking even before he came in through the back door. ‘You should have seen this dunk I did!’ His loud voice cut through the tension as he charged into the kitchen. ‘Hullo, who’s this?’ His face was open and friendly with surprise.
    I realised I hadn’t even managed to find out my burglar’s name.
    Singo’s eyes narrowed as he took in the head-kicker boots and the girl’s wary expression. He’d want a full recount.
    Shame washed over me at the memory of my move with the chair. Of being backed up against the window like a car-crash dummy. Of being a mouse instead of a man. All the girl’s interesting talk had made me forget for a moment. But now I saw that I’d never forget, no