The old dog laid her head in his lap and groaned, whether with pleasure or pain from sleeping outside with arthritis it was hard to tell.
Ben searched his pockets and produced another Mars Bar and tossed it over with a grin. ‘Say hi to Sister for me, and enjoy that with your brew?’
Lee caught it. ‘Ta. We love these, don’t we, sweetheart?’
They began to walk again, Ben not commenting on the encounter.
After a minute or two, Aleksey offered softly, ‘It’s a good thing there are fewer homeless, Ben. And you’re not ado-gooder.’
Ben roused. ‘No, I wasn’t thinking that. It’s just odd, that’s all. We’ve been setting this up for about a month now, and working with the council and the church and stuff here. But there aren’t any: other agencies—do-gooders. There’s no one here helping at all other than us and Sister A. We’d know. We’d have met them. Ask her. What programmes? What volunteering is he talking about?’
The hand tucked once more into the back of his waistband. Sometimes Aleksey wondered if Ben even realised he was doing it these days. It had become as automatic to him as breathing. Aleksey smiled to himself. ‘You had a way with him. You were good.’
Ben cast him a quick glance. ‘Not really. I just sort of followed Squeezy’s advice. You should see him. He’s a natural.’
‘I can imagine. But that was sad, no?’
‘Yeah, poor bloke, he’s done his bit for Queen and Country, but sodding Queen and Country won’t do their bit back for him.’
‘I meant Misty, but yes, as you say, not good.’
‘Squeezy reckons they put down a couple of thousand military dogs every year—euthanise them just because they’re too old to work.’
‘I must remember to tell Radulf that.’
Ben tightened his hold, pulling them closer together. ‘Come on, let’s go back.’
Aleksey was about to agree when something up ahead caught his eye and he stopped.
Ben took his gaze off the warehouses, where he’d apparently been seeking a pathway back to the city centre, and turned to see what he was looking at. On the other side of the canal, some distance further up, the old redbrick buildings had been cleared and there were three apartment blocks. They were joined by glass walkways between them and the entire site had been landscaped with paving and ornamental trees and shrubs, sitting areas, and some outdoor game boards, such as chess. This was all easily visible because the entire complex was bathed in soft light from Victorian-style lamps, which appeared to flicker as if powered with actual gas. All the flats were lit up too, and as they were mostly fronted with glass, presumably for views of the canal, this bathed the whole edifice in light. It was a startling contrast to the gloom and urban decay of the as-yet unreclaimed buildings on their side.
They carried on walking and were soon directly opposite the first of the blocks where there was a small dock and some wooden benches placed for residents to sit and admire the water.
‘What’s that word you always use about our house?’
‘Superb? A testament to my great gifts as a designer?’
‘Nope the other one.’
Aleksey quirked his lips and wrapped his arms around Ben from behind and propped his chin on the broad shoulder. ‘Symbol? Of my undying love for you?’
Ben laughed quietly. ‘You are heading for a swim in the canal.’
‘Anachronism. I think that might be the word you are searching for.’
‘Yeah, that’s the one. But for our house you say that’s the glass emerging from the granite and something metaphor-thingy, something analal-thingy, and some other crap, but this is just…weird.’
Aleksey tried not to encourage such cheek by laughing, so flicked Ben’s ear instead. ‘You are an iconoclast, Benjamin. They have apparently doubled in price since they were built.’
‘Huh?’
‘Just something someone told me recently.’
Suddenly, he noticed a figure standing in one of the widows. Which was even more interesting than just coming across the flats in the first place. He studied the man, watching his stillness, the way he observed the dissolution opposite. After a minute or two, although he was fairly sure of the answer, he asked, ‘Have you heard of the Baader-Meinhof effect?’
‘No, should I have?’
‘Not really. It’s when you hear a word or see something for the first time and then you seem to hear it or see it again and again for days.’
