‘Be quiet!’ Ben stuffed his half of the chocolate bar into his mouth and mumbled around it, ‘Why would there be homeless people here?’
Was it just him?
‘Ben, I came tonight expressly because it was a sleep out for the homeless.’
Ben gave him possibly the most derisory look he’d ever given him in their fifteen years together, and that was saying something considering some of the situations they’d found themselves in. ‘Do you remember that time I did a fun-run for the hospice? Try to recall how many dying people took part, trotting along in shorts, and then attempt to apply that common sense to this? The homeless sleep out every night. Tonight was for people who have never had to do that—to raise awareness of the issue.’ He tried to keep his face straight. ‘You actually thought a homeless person would pay a hundred pounds to—’
Aleksey left him to his book and went back outside.
It was blessedly quiet.
He wasn’t far from the city centre.
He started to walk.
After a few minutes, he sensed someone behind him, following, so ducked out of the well-lit street into an alleyway which ran beside a shoe shop and then ended at a shuttered mall.
The footsteps paused then came on more cautiously. ‘Donotjump me.’
Aleksey sighed and grinned. It was just the way they were together. He came out and put Ben in a headlock, ruining his hair once more. Ben fended him off. ‘What are you up to?’
‘I want to find Harry.’
‘Yeah, that’s what I thought. Okay, come on. I know someone we can ask.’
Ben crossed the road and Aleksey jogged to catch him up.
‘Did you impress your TV audience?’
‘Probably not. Squeezy was supposed to do it. He’s got all these facts and figures at his fingertips.’
‘Really?’ He found this hard to believe and suspected the moron just made stuff up and bluffed it afterwards. It took one to know one, after all.
‘Sometimes I wonder, you know? If it was me—homeless. I wouldn’t stay in a city. I’d find a deep wood somewhere, set up a camp, then hunt and live off the land. Like we did on the island.’
‘What about me?’
‘Huh? What about you?’
‘Well, am I included in these plans for your homeless future?’
He saw a slight smirk, which was the response he wanted. Ben took things too much to heart, something he had only recently accused the cretin of doing—which Aleksey had suspected at the time had just been Ben projecting.
‘You might get your nails dirty.’
Aleksey chuckled. ‘Being excessively well groomed is just a deceit I still employ, Benjamin. You should know this. I will build our camp. It will have gothic arches and buttresses and be quite magnificent.’
‘Uh huh. Useful in a wood then. Maybe concentrate on getting some furniture and electricity for Guillemot, if you’re in a planning phase.’
‘Ack, you have no soul. Besides, Benjamin, isn’t sleeping on the floor with a guttering candle merely practice for your homeless-in-a-wood plan?’
Ben snorted. ‘In an arty-decky what’s its name royal house on our own private island? One of your three houses—that I know of. Yeah, I’m a great spokesman for the homeless.’
Aleksey sensed sinking into gloomy thoughts occurring once more, so commented, as if it were just a random thought, ‘I have been researching seaplanes.’
Ben immediately perked up. ‘Really? Like in that movie we watched the other night? One for Light Island? But that one crashed and stranded them all in Alaska. You said it was a dumb thing for him—’
‘I pointed out, I believe, that it was illustrative of the natural order of things that the billionaire was the only one who survived the ordeal. His innate intelligence and ingenuity defeated them all.’
