Read Online The Talisman by Lynda La Plante - Free Book Online

been inundated with offers – far from it.
    He awoke to hear shouting from below in the courtyard and looked out of the window to see Charlie, so drunk he could hardly stand up without help. He was attempting to climb up the side of the building, holding what looked like a rag doll. The place was in darkness because of the blackout, and Edward had to squint to see what was going on. Charlie was standing on Freddy’s shoulders, clinging on to a window-ledge. Edward swore at his foolishness, grabbed his dressing gown and made his way down the inky-black staircase to the courtyard. Charlie was now up to the second window-ledge and stood, weaving, one hand holding on to the window and the other still clutching the rag doll.
    ‘Get him to come down, the idiot, he’ll hurt himself.’
    Freddy smirked and waved his arms for Edward to follow Charlie up if he was so clever. From the main gate voices echoed, a torch flickered, and Charlie’s friends all ran like hell, knowing they would be in for it if they were caught.
    Edward climbed up and grabbed Charlie’s legs, hauled him down, and they both crashed to the ground. The torchlight moved closer. Edward heaved Charlie over his shoulder and moved back into the shadows.
    ‘This is very decent of you, old boy, but if you don’t put me down I’ll vomit all over your dressing gown.’
    Edward put his hand across Charlie’s mouth as the two porters searched the courtyard. ‘Bloody war on, you’d think these lads would have better things to do than play silly buggers.’
    The porters departed with the rag doll and Edward released his hold on Charlie’s mouth. The next moment Charlie had passed out in his arms. Edward carried him back to his quarters, all the way up the stairs, opened the door and dumped the drunken boy on the bed.
    ‘Thanks awfully.’ Charlie fell immediately into a deep, drunken sleep, and Edward stripped him and put him to bed. The room was a shambles, the remains of tea still all over the table. Edward stared around the room, at the closet full of clothes, rows of shoes, every drawer half open. He crossed the room to blow out a guttering candle.
    He couldn’t help but see the stacks of papers stuffed into a desk drawer, and he carefully inched one out. There were shoals of bills – unpaid bills – from tailors, bakers, wine merchants, clubs and restaurants. Edward left his sleeping friend and closed the door silently behind him.
    The following morning Charlie did not appear at the lecture, which was not unusual, but this time Edward was looking out for him, had even kept a space for him.
    After lunch Edward went to see Professor Emmott to ask his permission to move out of the hall of residence into lodgings. He tapped on the study door and a high-pitched voice bade him enter. Emmott was sitting at his desk, elbow-deep in papers. He was a strange-looking man in his late forties, and his thick black hair had receded to the halfway point, making his domed forehead look even larger above his thick, round, black-rimmed glasses. He also had an unfortunate humped back that forced him to bend almost double to walk. Sitting down, however, he was a chilling spectacle, and he looked over the top of his glasses with strange, clear eyes.
    ‘Ah, Stubbs, come in, come in, wanted to have a chat with you. Take a seat. I have been looking over your half-term’s work, excellent, excellent. What was it you wanted to speak to me about?’
    Edward tried not to sound desperate, he just said that he felt it would be more convenient if he moved into lodgings.
    ‘Finding it a tight squeeze, are you, old chap? You do know that there are certain extra scholarships, exhibitions, sizarships, sub-sizarships and what have you, grants for those in special need? Those eligible for, shall we say, “poor student grants” are usually restricted to divinity students, a lot of conditions, of course, City companies and so forth, but if you would like me to put forward an application . .