Flights of Angels Read Online Free Page B

with his thick fingers.
    ‘I’m not unhappy.’
    ‘No?’ Jimmy didn’t sound convinced. ‘Then what?’
    ‘Thoughtful?’
    ‘Is that what you call it?’ he pursed his lips. ‘You take on too many problems which don’t belong to you. If it isn’t Claudie, it’s Simon.’
    ‘They’re going through a rough time at the moment-’
    ‘That doesn’t mean you have to as well.’
    ‘Doesn’t it? I thought that’s what friends were for.’
    Jimmy raised a gentle hand and pushed back a strand of red hair which had fallen across her face. ‘You know, I could put my foot down. I mean, what man in his right mind lets his partner see an ex-boyfriend on a regular basis?’
    ‘There’s nothing going on between Simon and me. Nothing ever did. He’s a friend! Anyway, we only went out a couple of times.’
    ‘A couple?’
    ‘Well, a couple of months, and it was years ago.’
    ‘Not that many,’ Jimmy said sounding unnaturally sulky.
    ‘Do I detect a hint of jealousy?’ Kristen teased.
    ‘No. But you shouldn’t get so involved in his problems. He’s a grown man. Let him sort them out for himself.’
    Kristen sighed. In her heart of hearts she knew he was right. She couldn’t fight Simon’s battles for him. Or Claudie’s for that matter.
    ‘I need you too, you know,’ Jimmy added.
    Kristen tutted good-naturedly. ‘You’ve never needed anyone in your entire life.’
    ‘No?’ he pulled her towards him again. ‘What’s this then?’
    She giggled. ‘You know what I mean.’
    His eyes twinkled softly and suggestively in the lamplight before blurring into darkness as she closed her eyes to kiss him.

    When Simon got back home, he paused for a moment in the hallway, resting his head on the cool wood of the stair banister. It was so quiet. He hadn’t quite got used to being greeted by silence when he came home. He didn’t like it. Despite his rather isolating job, Simon was a gregarious person by nature, and just didn’t feel right living on his own, and he always felt it acutely after a visit to Kristen and Jimmy’s.
    As much as he knew Kristen hadn’t been the girl for him, he still couldn’t help feeling a little bit envious of Jimmy. Did he realise how lucky he was to have her there? To have someone to holler to when you got home. Someone to share a meal with, a bath with, a bed with. God, he sometimes even missed the things that had really grated on him, like the lipstick-rimmed cups left by the sink, and the rows of wet tights which would hang like strangled snakes over the bath.
    He switched the front room light on and winced as the sixty-watt bulb blinded him. When Felicity had left, she’d remembered that the chintzy light shade was hers. She’d also remembered to empty the cupboards of her collection of pots and pans, fleeced the under-the-stairs cupboard of items worth more than ten pounds, and had even managed to get up into the loft in spite her fear of ladders. In fact, the only thing that she’d left of hers had been Pumpkin.
    Simon walked over to the little glass bowl and sprinkled some food on top of the water and watched as Pumpkin rose eagerly to the surface. Poor little mite, he thought. Won at a local fair, Felicity had been thrilled with Simon’s skill with the hoop for all of ten minutes. Then, as soon as her make-up had demanded a retouch, she’d flung her fish in a bag towards Simon and disappeared into the ladies’ loos. She hadn’t bothered with the goldfish after that.
    She hadn’t even bothered to give him a name but, peering into his bowl one day, had announced that he looked like a mini pumpkin floating around. The name had stuck.
    Simon wiggled a finger above the water. It was a useless pet really. You couldn’t pick it up, couldn’t stroke it, couldn’t take it for a walk, and he always felt self-conscious when he spoke to it, as if somebody was secretly filming him.
    ‘All right, mate?’ he said, stooping to look into the beady, non-communicative eyes. ‘Had