Death is a Welcome Guest: Plague Times Trilogy 2 Read Online Free Page A

he had carefully zipped inside its garment bag and hung on the back of the couch. ‘That’s sick,’ said one of the Dongolites, pointing at the phone. Magnus still did not know their names.
    Johnny had dispensed with his handkerchief. He spat on the floor. ‘She’s a bit of an armful, but islanders like their women big, don’t they? It comes from being such little men. Go on, fill your boots.’
    It was an odd image and Magnus laughed. He wanted to tell Johnny that his father, grandfather and no doubt his great-grandfather had indeed been short men, but they could hunt and fish and farm while he, the tallest known McFall in history at five foot nine (taller than Johnny, he seemed to remember) could only jaw for a living. Then he saw Johnny’s face and remembered a Lon Chaney line: Nobody laughs at a clown at midnight .
    ‘No offence, John.’ Magnus gave Kim a glance he hoped conveyed the right balance of respect, apology and sexual attraction. ‘But I don’t think it’s in your gift.’
    ‘I’m Santa-fucking-Claws, Mags. Believe me.’ Johnny held his arms wide, and the Dongolites shrank into the couch. ‘It’s all in my gift. What do you think you’re doing here? I gifted you this gig. Three nights in the biggest stadium in the country, that was my present to you.’
    ‘And it’s much appreciated, Johnny.’
    Magnus had flung his jacket on a chair by the door when they had first entered the room (how many hours ago?). He picked it up and shoved his arms into its sleeves.
    Johnny Dongo said, ‘It doesn’t fucking look like it. First you feel up my fiancée and then you refuse to fuck her. What’s that all about?’
    ‘You’re a wanker, Johnny.’ Kim went into the adjoining bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
    ‘See what you’ve done,’ Johnny said. ‘You’ve upset her now.’
    The curtains had been closed when they came into the room, but a thin sliver of grey dawn had reached through a chink in the heavy fabric and was stretching across the floor. Magnus took his phone from his pocket. The battery was dead.
    ‘What time is it, John?’
    Johnny leaned back into the couch, draping an arm around each of the Dongolites.
    ‘Time you fucked off.’
    The rumours were true then, Johnny Dongo liked boys.
    ‘Don’t worry, I’m gone.’ Magnus held up a hand in goodbye and opened the hotel-room door, but instead of walking into the corridor he was confronted by the ensuite.
    ‘I’m not jesting,’ Johnny said, as the door swung shut.
    Magnus emptied his bladder, zipped up and then splashed some water on his face, grimacing at his reflection in the mirror. He had what his mother called a ‘baby face’. Some girls found the combination of shaggy black hair, wide eyes and gap teeth cute, but Magnus guessed they were not features that would age well. He drew his hands down his face, watching his eyes droop, feeling the scrub of bristle on his chin.
    ‘You look like a discount rent boy,’ he muttered.
    The bathroom had a glass ceiling. He sat on the edge of the whirlpool bath and looked up at the view of lightening sky occasionally interrupted by a flash of high-flying gulls. Why did the birds gravitate to cities when there were wide-open seas out there? It was a question he might as well ask himself. Magnus wondered if the trains were running yet. Fuck only knew how much a cab home would cost. The thought of trains made the rum and beer in his belly threaten to slosh to the surface and he realised he would pay anything not to enter the station again.
    The sound of banging startled him and he fell backward into the bath, knocking his cheek against the oversized tap jutting out from the wall. The porcelain was cold and hard, but the tub had been designed for couples to bathe comfortably together, toe to toe, or chest to spine if they were especially good friends, and it was wide enough for Magnus to bend his knees and roll on to his side. He closed his eyes. The sound of banging grew louder and he