Any Survivors (2008) Read Online Free Page A

speech impediment. ‘Come on, Leo,’ she lisped. ‘Celebrate ( th-elebrate ) with me. I'm a bird, flying high in the sky ( thky ), high as a kite. Tweet, tweet!’
    In the mirror I could see she was getting up and trying to use the seat as a step onto the table. People began to stare.
    ‘Sit down, Angelica!’ the tenor hissed, ‘or I’ll feed you to the dogs.’ She put up some resistance but fell back into her seat, throwing her things to the floor in the process. Her hat, handbag and umbrella rolled towards my feet. I could no longer ignore the situation and turned towards them. The music was changing: Troubadour, Schon naht die Todesstunde ( The Hour of our Death is Approaching ). Not quite appropriate but I had no time to enjoy the melody. I could only make out the skinny back of the girl in her ill-fitting suit. She was crawling on the floor, looking for her treasures.
    By now I was looking right at the man with the tenor voice; he had a pleasing, well-balanced and well-fed face with a strong chin. Sparkling blue eyes were staring back at me. His complexion was like milk and blood, a dimple in his cheek, his smooth forehead set off by the wellcoiffed light brown curls. He left me no time to admire him further. He grabbed the lapel of my jacket. I was none too pleased about his rough treatment. He pulled me up, shouting: ‘You old crook! Have you finally escaped? You see – you managed it without my help. But I'm pleased. I'm really pleased!’
    How could I escape this sudden outburst of unwanted attention?
    I responded coolly: ‘Sir, I am neither old, nor a crook, escaped or otherwise. Besides, I don't even know you. Please be so kind as to let go of my jacket.’
    His reaction was one of unfeigned surprise. Despite being the victim of a misunderstanding, I was playing a manly and dignified role. The waiter had returned and was standing behind me: ‘Chicken liver is out, sir.’
    The girl by the name of Angelica had packed her things and was ready to leave. ‘You know what he's like, full of fun and jokes!’ Once again she demonstrated her speech impediment. I looked at the girl more closely. There wasn't much of her. Without the make-up, the platinum-blonde hair, false eyelashes and the speech defect, she was very ordinary – and this girl was called Angelica!
    Now the bass-voiced man got involved. ‘You know, I don't think it's him, Leo. He must be five years younger, but what a resemblance!’ he said quietly to the tenor. ‘We should make the most of this opportunity.’ The man with the grey hair was grim-looking and serious, his glasses thick, mouth small and malicious.
    ‘Leo … honey,’ Angelica begged, ‘but we promised our friends …’
    The grey-haired man added quietly, ‘And what we promised we should keep. And besides, someone with such technical knowledge is a good investment.’
    I had no idea what they were talking about but I was starting to feel a bit uncomfortable. It was a bit like being in a madhouse. The rosy-cheeked man was still holding me by the lapel of my coat and the waiter was still waiting for my order.
    ‘Do give us the pleasure of joining our table,’ said the man called Leo. The other man pulled out a chair for me. I hesitated.
    ‘I would be pleased if you could clarify, Mr Leo,’ I said. ‘I don't know your surname, so please excuse me for calling you Leo. Is this an invitation? Then I would gladly accept. I'm afraid I do not possess the means to get involved in such unclear situations where I do not know what is expected of me.’
    Now they were all laughing.
    ‘Of course we are inviting you,’ Leo said, as he signalled to the waiter. ‘You haven't eaten dinner? One should really eat at seven o’clock, several hours before going to bed. That's much healthier. Anyway, we will have … er … soup, mixed grill with all the trimmings, sweets and coffee.’ The waiter could hardly keep up. I listened without feeling obliged to protest; the man had grabbed me