“One of these, on his nose, he still remembered with horror. He had been seventeen and already conscious of his looks, a vanity fostered by his mother who often spoke of him as ‘my handsome son’ or ‘my good-looking boy’. The spot was so distressing that he had wanted to take time off school but his father had put his foot down. ‘I could understand it if you were a girl, Stuart.’ Since then there had been various small disfigurements – ‘pink eye’ dyeing one retina red, a chipped tooth and the wai...t until the crown could be in place. Now he was appalled by the sight of his left arm when the plaster came off, the skin white, scaly and wrinkled like he could imagine (but had never seen) the arm of an old person, someone like Marius Potter, for instance. The weather was warm but the state of his arm made wearing a tight royal-blue T-shirt impossible. ‘Nessun dorma’ was repeating itself hysterically from his bedroom where he had flung the mobile on his bed. Whatever Claudia might say, he had a horrible feeling that Freddy was sitting in his solicitor’s office also listening to that ringtone and waiting for him to answer it.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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