“The second, moments after, close and strangely muted, was the sound of a telephone ringing. And the third, realized with painful accuracy as he lifted Bud cautiously clear and gingerly lowered his own feet towards the floor, was that for the first time in many months he had a hangover of king-sized proportions. He blinked at the clock: six forty-nine. He should have already been up. Louder now, the telephone continued to ring and fearing the worst, without knowing exactly what that worst was, h...e lifted it towards his ear. “Yes. Hello.” “Charlie, is that you?” “I think so.” “Did I wake you?” “Not really, no.” “Are you okay?” “Um, why?” “You sound as if you’re at the bottom of the sea.” “I slept a little heavily, that’s all.” “Look, Charlie, can I see you today? Not for long; lunchtime, maybe. Just for twenty minutes, half an hour. I think we need to talk.” No reply. “I could meet you somewhere.” Resnick wished his head didn’t feel like a sack of gently swaying cement.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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