Read Online Remember Why You Fear Me by Robert Shearman - Free Book Online

course,” he added reflectively, “he had his bad days. When he got things on his mind, and he did a lot, actually, as time went on. Then sometimes he wouldn’t find the time for walkies. But, you know. He did his best.”
    There was silence.
    “And at this point everyone asks whether I knew I was being fed and petted by an evil man. Go on, ask it.”
    “I don’t want . . .”
    “It’s all right, really.”
    So Martin asked the obvious.
    “I was his first dog, his childhood pet. So you’ve got to bear in mind that when I came on the scene he hadn’t done anything yet. Well, anything that was particularly
evil
. He’d done a few things that were
naughty
, but really, refusing to eat your greens, or reading under the bed covers after lights out, or graffitiing over pictures of Otto von Bismarck . . . I mean, you wouldn’t say that was especially untoward. I know what you’re going to say. That surely I could have seen
something
there. The seeds of the man to come. Say it, you might as well.”
    “Did you see the seeds of the man to come?”
    Woofie paused. “Do you know, Martin, no one’s ever asked me that before?”
    “Really?”
    “I’ll have to think about that.” And so he did. And then, at last, the voice gentle in the darkness:
    “It’s not as if he ever had the chance to discuss matters of state with me. But I don’t think he’d have been ashamed. I dare say he’d have explained the need to burn the Reichstag, or invade Czechoslovakia, he’d have explained the concentration camps. I’d have only had to ask. I honestly think he was just doing his best. Muddling through, like the rest of us. Trying to be a good person. I’m not saying all his decisions were
good
ones. And that he didn’t get carried away. Who wouldn’t, you or I in the same position, who wouldn’t? But people think of him as a demon. And he wasn’t. Well, we know what demons look like. And he was just a man, you know. Just a man with his dog. Like you and me. Well, like you, anyway. Yes,” Woofie said softly, as he thought about it, “Adolf Hitler was a lot like you.”
    “Thanks,” said Martin, and meant it.
    “Why didn’t you want to ask? No one else has left it for so long.”
    “I just supposed,” said Martin, “that it must get a bit irritating. Always being in his shadow. People never asking you about
you
, only the famous person you hung out with.”
    There was silence for a while.
    “But I was in his shadow,” said Woofie. “I was his dog.”
    More silence. For a while Martin thought Woofie had fallen asleep. And then:
    “Thanks, though. That’s really thoughtful of you. Thanks.”
    “That’s okay.”
    “You’re my best friend.”
    “You’re my best friend too, actually.”
    “We can cuddle if you like,” said Woofie. “I don’t mean anything funny,” he added hastily, “just cuddling. If you like. I mean, there’s nothing funny about a man and his dog sleeping together, is there? If you like.”
    “I’m not sure there’s room,” said Martin slowly.
    But there was room, if Martin leant into the wall a bit. And Woofie wasn’t very big, he curled into the spaces left by Martin’s body as if they’d always been designed to fit together like this. If Martin laid against Woofie sideways he was rubbing against his soul, but face on he could feel his fur, and the warmth of it was more comforting than he could have believed.
    “Good night, Martin,” said Woofie softly.
    “Night.” And within minutes Martin heard the snoring that told him his new best friend was asleep. And he had only a few moments to realize how reassuring that snoring was, how much gentler than Moira’s, how much more
right
, before he was fast asleep too.

    “Good news,” boomed the demon. “You’re being transferred tomorrow morning.”
    Martin tried to work out how he should respond. “Oh,” he said eventually.
    “Well, don’t look too bloody grateful,” muttered the demon as he stomped off. He was