“Harry had always liked it neat: the grass trim, the floors polished, the magazines in their rack, but today he was pleased to see it looking different. At least there was some external sign of change. There was a mattress on the floor in the living room (Joel – he won't go home) and another upstairs folded against the wall (friend of Lucy's). There were empty tins everywhere and, on the front lawn, an ancient Cadillac with a crumpled tail fin (some nonsense Lucy's going on with: tell her to shi...ft it). The back garden was high with weeds (had to fire the gardener) and Bettina glowed. She was a hot-shot. 'Let me show you ads,' she said. 'Let me show you ads.' 'Where do I sleep?' he asked, looking around the blanket-strewn living room. 'You have our old room.' 'What about you?' 'Don't worry, don't worry, it'll be alright. Come on, Harry, look at my ads.' He sat down at the table, his heart heavy with thoughts of Honey Barbara, while his wife stood up near the fireplace and presented him with some forty comped-up magazine advertisements.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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