Read Online The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul by Douglas Adams - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Douglas Adams
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game shows that the evening held in store for the determined viewer, and did not look up as Dirk re-entered.
Dirk walked briskly over to the window and drew the curtains sharply back, half hoping that the beast might shrivel up shrieking if exposed to daylight, but other than wrinkling up its nose, it did not react. A dark shadow flapped briefly across the window, but the angle was such that Dirk could not see what caused it.
He turned and faced the boy-beast. The midday news bulletin was starting on television, and the boy seemed somehow a little more open, a little more receptive to the world outside the flickering coloured rectangle. He glanced up at Dirk with a sour, tired look.
"Whaddayawananyway?" he said.
"I ted you whad I wad," said Dirk, fiercely but hopelessly, "I wad...hag od a bobed...I gnow thad faith!"
Dirk's attention had switched suddenly to the television screen, where a rather more up-to-date photograph of the missing airline check-in girl was being shown.
"Whadayadoingere?" said the boy.
"Jjchhhhh!" said Dirk, and perched himself down on the arm of the chair, peering intently at the face on the screen. It had been taken about a year ago, before the girl had learnt about corporate lipgloss. She had frizzy hair and a frumpy, put-upon look.
"Whoareyou? Wassgoinon?" insisted the boy.
"Loog, chuddub," snapped Dirk, "I'b tryid to wodge dthith!"
The newscaster said that the police professed themselves to be mystified by the fact that there was no trace of Janice Smith at the scene of the incident. They explained that there was a limit to the number of times they could search the same buildings, and appealed for anyone who might have a clue as to her whereabouts to come forward.
"Thadth by segradry! Thadth Mith Pearth!" exclaimed Dirk in astonishment.
The boy was not interested in Dirk's ex-secnetary, and gave up trying to atttact Dirk's attention. He wriggled out of the sleeping-bag and sloped off to the bathroom.
Dirk sat staring at the television, bewildered that he hadn't realised before who the missing girl was. Still, there was no reason why he should have done, he realiced. Marriage had changed her name, and this was the first time they had shown a photograph that actually identified her. So far he had taken no real interest in the strange incident at the airport, but now it demanded his attention.
The explosion was now officially designated an "Act of God".
But, thought Dirk, what god? And why?
What god would be hanging around Terminal Two of fieathrow Aitport trying to catch the 15.37 flight to Oslo?
After the miserable lassitude of the last few weeks, he suddenly had a great deal that required his immediate attention. He frowned in deep thought for a few moments, and hardly noticed when the beast-boy snuck back in and snuggled back into his sleeping-bag just in time for the advertisements to start. The first one showed how a perfectly ordinary stock cube could form the natural focus of a normal, happy family life.
Dirk leapt to his feet, but even as he was about to start questioning the boy again his heart sank as he looked at him. The beast was far away, sunk back in his dark, flickering lair, and Dirk did not feel inclined to disturb him again at the moment.
He contented himself with barking at the unresponding child that he would be back, and bustled heavily down the stairs, his big leather coat flapping madly behind him.
In the hallway he encountered the loathed Gilks once more.
"What happened to you?" said the policeman sharply, catching sight of Dirk's bruised and bulging nose.
"Ondly whad you dold me," said Dirk, innocently. "I bead bythelf ub."
Gilks demanded to know what he had been doing, and Dirk generously explained that there was a witness upstairs with some interesting information to impart. He suggested that Gilks go and have a word with him, but that it would be best if he turned off the television first.
Gilks nodded curtly. He started to go up the stairs, but Dirk
Dirk walked briskly over to the window and drew the curtains sharply back, half hoping that the beast might shrivel up shrieking if exposed to daylight, but other than wrinkling up its nose, it did not react. A dark shadow flapped briefly across the window, but the angle was such that Dirk could not see what caused it.
He turned and faced the boy-beast. The midday news bulletin was starting on television, and the boy seemed somehow a little more open, a little more receptive to the world outside the flickering coloured rectangle. He glanced up at Dirk with a sour, tired look.
"Whaddayawananyway?" he said.
"I ted you whad I wad," said Dirk, fiercely but hopelessly, "I wad...hag od a bobed...I gnow thad faith!"
Dirk's attention had switched suddenly to the television screen, where a rather more up-to-date photograph of the missing airline check-in girl was being shown.
"Whadayadoingere?" said the boy.
"Jjchhhhh!" said Dirk, and perched himself down on the arm of the chair, peering intently at the face on the screen. It had been taken about a year ago, before the girl had learnt about corporate lipgloss. She had frizzy hair and a frumpy, put-upon look.
"Whoareyou? Wassgoinon?" insisted the boy.
"Loog, chuddub," snapped Dirk, "I'b tryid to wodge dthith!"
The newscaster said that the police professed themselves to be mystified by the fact that there was no trace of Janice Smith at the scene of the incident. They explained that there was a limit to the number of times they could search the same buildings, and appealed for anyone who might have a clue as to her whereabouts to come forward.
"Thadth by segradry! Thadth Mith Pearth!" exclaimed Dirk in astonishment.
The boy was not interested in Dirk's ex-secnetary, and gave up trying to atttact Dirk's attention. He wriggled out of the sleeping-bag and sloped off to the bathroom.
Dirk sat staring at the television, bewildered that he hadn't realised before who the missing girl was. Still, there was no reason why he should have done, he realiced. Marriage had changed her name, and this was the first time they had shown a photograph that actually identified her. So far he had taken no real interest in the strange incident at the airport, but now it demanded his attention.
The explosion was now officially designated an "Act of God".
But, thought Dirk, what god? And why?
What god would be hanging around Terminal Two of fieathrow Aitport trying to catch the 15.37 flight to Oslo?
After the miserable lassitude of the last few weeks, he suddenly had a great deal that required his immediate attention. He frowned in deep thought for a few moments, and hardly noticed when the beast-boy snuck back in and snuggled back into his sleeping-bag just in time for the advertisements to start. The first one showed how a perfectly ordinary stock cube could form the natural focus of a normal, happy family life.
Dirk leapt to his feet, but even as he was about to start questioning the boy again his heart sank as he looked at him. The beast was far away, sunk back in his dark, flickering lair, and Dirk did not feel inclined to disturb him again at the moment.
He contented himself with barking at the unresponding child that he would be back, and bustled heavily down the stairs, his big leather coat flapping madly behind him.
In the hallway he encountered the loathed Gilks once more.
"What happened to you?" said the policeman sharply, catching sight of Dirk's bruised and bulging nose.
"Ondly whad you dold me," said Dirk, innocently. "I bead bythelf ub."
Gilks demanded to know what he had been doing, and Dirk generously explained that there was a witness upstairs with some interesting information to impart. He suggested that Gilks go and have a word with him, but that it would be best if he turned off the television first.
Gilks nodded curtly. He started to go up the stairs, but Dirk
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