I offered to make a present of it.
Today, there is not a single suggestion of imminent rain. I have all the time in the world. "Hey, Bas. Remember when you said if ever there was a case for eugenics, I was it?"
I pause to allow him time to reflect on the abhorrence of telling anyone that, let alone a child.
"Well, I'm very happy to prove you wrong and tell you I sold five pieces of art and made eighteen and a half thousand pounds in one week.One week, Bas! Imagine that. And all because of my soaring popularity with the masses."
I imagine his hollow, worm-ridden skull imploding with the weight of this news. "Andit's had a flow on effect courtesy of our online store. Sales are up four hundred percent and climbing. Jeanette's sold all but one of her new buttock butter dishes and Lutek's completely sold out of bird bookmarks."
I pull out my phone. "Speaking of Jeanette, I have a message from her, which I've taken the liberty of paraphrasing to give it a little more...colour." Opening the Notes app I read: "Hi Basil. It's Jeanette Gilbert here. The one you said was a travesty of girlhood, do you remember? I thought you'd like reminding that I'm a raging Ellen Degenerate. Though I prefer the term 'vagitarian' due to the high amount of Vitamin C in my diet. And I'm not talking oranges here, Basil. So I take your contempt for 'boyish' girls and raise you a whole liberated sexual identity, you haemorrhoid of a man."
I raise my head and grin at the grave. "She sure told you, Bas." I put the phone back in my pocket.
"Lutek didn't give me averbalmessage to pass on to you today. Only this." I pick up his air rifle from the ground and hold it out towards Basil's headstone.
Having the usually mild-mannered Lutek suggest I take it with me was somewhat surprising, but perhaps this new level of sales has given him a confidence he should have felt his whole life were it not for the man whose grave lies in front of me.
"So, I'll let it do the speaking for him."
I aim the gun at the jar and take the first shot.
Chapter fourteen
Ed
Justafter3pmwhenthe after-school rush would normally happen, were it not school holidays, Jeanette and Elly appear at the library counter. Elly has a takeaway coffee and a paper bag in hand, which she slides towards me over the varnished wood.
Jeanette and Elly rarely visit the library, let alone with gifts.
"What's this?" I don't bother to hide the suspicion in my voice.
"A flat white and the almond croissant we didn't sell today because we put it aside especially for you," says Elly.
"We know how much you enjoy them," says Jeanette. She's wearing a T-shirt with a large, sequined cat sewn on the front.
A sliver of sunlight from the narrow front windows glances off her and throws out tiny prisms of light like a disco ball.
"Nice top."
"Oh my God," says Elly. "Crossing the road to get here and exposing her to full sunlight? She nearly burned out the back of my retinas."
Jeanette laughs. "It's true."
I smile at them and wait.
“Um.” Jeanette fingers the paper bag. “The thing is…” she trails off, then removes the lid of the coffee. "Look! Lutek put a book in the foam."
There is, indeed, what could be interpreted as an open book nestled in the milk froth. "Huh. That must have taken some doing."
"He's an artist," says Jeanette. "And a perfectionist about his art. Do you know we're thinking of advertising a foam art addition to our coffee menu? Any object, within reason, for an extra fifty p. Isn't that wonderful?"
"Told you there was value in temporary art," says Elly.
"You haven't proved it yet," I say. "You actually need to start selling it to know if there's value in it."
"True," says Elly.
I place the lid back on the cup and look up at them.
