I may as well post this here, because despite the fact that I really like this exchange, and actually have no remembrance of writing it, so it must have been ages ago, I can’t use it now I’ve actually got to that point in the novel. I have a habit of writing scenes or fragments of scenes that flash into my mind, even if they are a long way ahead and this was one of them, but when I actually got to the time when this happened, the way this morning started wouldn’t work and much of what they say here has already been said, or it’s not what they would say to each other, or the way they would say it. So… enjoy! It won’t make much sense, but enjoy anyway.
I opened my eyes and struggled to a sitting position, expecting a maid to be pulling back the curtains as normal, for that’s what usually woke me–unless it was other things, not enjoyed since–well, it seemed like months, but was in reality much less. Instead, the curtains were drawn shut, and a light burned at my desk. He was sit
“Have you become the world’s earliest riser,” I asked, looking askance at the rather vulgar marble clock on my mantlepiece” or have you seriously been sitting there since I fell asleep?”
“A little of both, he said. “I did try to sleep, although it was only on the top of the covers. And I think I did sleep. But it seemed like death. I found myself in that ridiculous state when you half dream something and it seems as though it has to be true. You know, you had the same problem when you were convinced that your mother had moved in to the dorm, and every time you woke up you thought you thought you couldn’t possibly nip down to the bathroom in case she saw you coming out of my room.”
I looked suitably offended. “It seemed bloody real to me at the time.”
Well, exactly.” And this nonsense about dying in my sleep was no less real to me, however barking it seems right now.”
“It seems a bit odd to be asking this now, but are you going to be all right?”
He gave a shrug, one with just one shoulder, as if I had placed a hand there and it was suddenly unwelcome. “I’ve been thinking about that, too. Of course I will be. I’m not twelve years old any more. I’m not here most of the year, and I have no intention of living here after we come down.”
I hesitated to mention that these were all excellent points, and all points I had made at some point between now and him finding out his mother’s plans.
“If Claude is on dope, then someone–Steve, Mother, even me–, given the chance, will find it out and then woe betide him, that’s all. If I find he gave that stuff to Lawrence, if I find out he turned him into–” he turned towards the curtains and stared at them as though the remainder of his book was to be found inscribed on the sworls and patterns. “I’m not intending to forget it, believe you me. You know me.”© Copyright 2012 Erastes, All rights Reserved. Written For: Erastes