Read Online The Lamplighters by Frazer Lee - Free Book Online Page A

night my dear,” said Jessie drunkenly before swaggering off to the kitchen to fill it up again.
    Marla took another sip and remembered her dingy bed-sit, all the unpaid bills and hassle from her landlady. It was easy to complain when you’d had too much of a good thing, she supposed, but she meant to enjoy every minute.
     
    A sound like gravel being sucked through an echoing tube woke Marla. Her brain throbbed inside her skull as she struggled to open her eyes. For a moment she couldn’t open her mouth, it felt so dry. Slowly and painfully sitting up, she realized she’d passed out on Jessie’s bed. Focusing on the form lying next to her, Marla realized her head had been right next to Jessie’s feet. The violent gravelly sound continued from the vicinity of Jessie’s head. She was snoring as loud as a freight train.
    Marla managed to stand up, staggering backwards and steadying herself against the doorframe. Holding her pounding forehead with one shaky hand, she made her way out of the bedroom, through the living area and into the kitchen. She could just make out a few trees in the moonlight outside the window—it was the middle of the night. Grabbing a glass from the worktop, Marla opened the faucet and filled it with cool, clear water. She gulped the water down in one go, and filled the glass again. Then, a dull wave of nausea hit her stomach and bile rose in her throat. The glass wasn’t properly clean. It still stank of mojito. Marla lurched over the sink and vomited, the entire contents of her stomach emptying into the sink, echoing off the unsympathetic steel interior. The water still ran mockingly. If only she’d drunk her fill of that tonight instead of all those mojitos. Jesus, she suddenly realized, trying not to heave again, we put away three jugs of the stuff . The mere thought was enough to send her stomach muscles into involuntary spasm again and, horribly, she retched up what was left in her poor aching belly. Splashing some water on her face, Marla steadied herself against the worktop and peered at her reflection in the kitchen window. She looked like death, her pale skin and sunken eyes all the more pronounced in the silvery light of the moon. I’ll never drink again, she tried to promise herself. I know I’ve said it before, but I mean it this time. Never again.
    Then she saw the other face, looking back at her from the trees.

Chapter Twelve
    Jessie was wrapped up in the kind of warm candyfloss dreams that only snoring drunks can access. Languid waves lapped at her feet, gently tickling her toes. A tropical breeze massaged her naked body. Then the sound of Marla screaming penetrated her skull.
    She kicked off the bedcovers instinctively and lurched towards the door. The scream had come from the kitchen—Jessie hoped the cockroaches hadn’t come back. Turning the corner, she found Marla lying on the floor, surrounded by broken glass. Stepping carefully through the shards, Jessie crouched and tried to rouse Marla. Good, she was still breathing. She shook Marla’s body a little harder.
    Marla groaned and looked up at Jessie’s worried face, a welcome sight after the face she’d seen at the window. There’d been something wrong with its eyes, she remembered that clearly. But what had happened next, how she’d come to be in a crumpled heap on the kitchen tiles amidst all this broken glass, was a complete blur.
    “What happened? You okay?”
    “I’m sorry. I was sick. Then I saw… I thought I saw…”
    “Man, I’m the one who’s sorry,” said Jessie earnestly. “I mixed those drinks a little strong. Come on, let me help you up.”
    Groaning again as the room span, Marla struggled to her feet with Jessie’s help. She half-fell, half-sat on a stool and leaned on the counter to steady herself, watching as Jessie filled the kettle with water and switched it on.
    “Hot, sweet coffee. This will save your life,” Jessie said cheerily.
    Marla watched almost incredulously as Jessie made