gns.snakes-第17部分

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　like　'em。　A　bit　o'　smoke　never　'urt　nobody。　Bill'll　go　mad　if　'e　'as　to　put　up　with　'im　indoors　all　day　again　today。'
　　
　　So；　with　some　misgivings；　Barbara　wheeled　the　pram　out　on　to　the　square　of　grass　at　the　rear　of　the　council　house；　found　Michael　a　patch　of　shade　beside　the　single　struggling　lilac　bush　and　secured　the　pram's　rickety　brake。
　　
　　'You　go　to　sleep；　darlin'；　like　a　good　little　boy。'　She　fixed　the　hood；　pulled　the　stick　of　beads　across　for　him　to　play　with　if　he　had　the　inclination；　and　placed　his　rattle　on　the　coverlet。　He　looked　like　he　might　just　go　to　sleep。　'You　have　a　nice　sleepy…byes；　my　love；　and　in　a　bit　mummy　will　e　out　and　move　your　pram　so　that　the　sun　doesn't　shine　in　it。　See　you　in　a　bit；　lovey。'
　　
　　Michael　gurgled；　but　he　did　not　start　to　shriek　when　she　tip…toed　away。　Thank　God；　for　that。　After　all　that　motion　last　night　she　needed　to　sleep　for　an　hour　or　two。
　　
　　She　turned　back　at　the　doorway　for　one　last　look。　Silence　from　the　pram；　maybe　he　was　asleep　already。　She　coughed；　this　smoky　air　wouldn't　do　anybody　any　good；　worse　than　smoking　fags　all　day　long　like　her　mother　did。　No　good　for　the　lungs。
　　
　　There　was　a　lot　of　activity　in　the　surrounding　area　again　today。　Two　helicopters　flying　back　and　forth　on　the　hillside　below　the　moors；　a　steady　drone　that　could　be　either　soothing　or　get　on　your　nerves；　depending　on　what　sort　of　mood　you　were　in。　Cars　up　and　down　all　the　time。　She　shrugged　her　shoulders；　went　inside　and　upstairs。　There　was　no　sign　of　her　mother；　perhaps　Betty　Brown　had　decided　to　go　back　to　bed　and　keep　Bill　pany。　The　pair　of　them　must　get　bored；　she　decided；　with　nothing　to　do　all　day　except　moan　at　somebody　whose　life　was　taken　up　looking　after　a　baby。
　　
　　Barbara　stripped　off　her　clothes　and　lay　on　the　bed。　Christ；　it　was　going　to　be　hot　again　today；　she　hoped　Michael　would　be　all　right　out　there。　In　an　hour　or　so　she　would　go　out　and　check　him。
　　
　　She　felt　sure　that　the　father　of　her　baby　was　Ted　Growson；　it　could　have　been　Alun　Donnison　but　she　thought　the　odds　were　in　favour　of　Ted　because　the　time　of　the　month　had　been　right　that　Sunday　afternoon　when　she　had　gone　up　on　to　the　moors　with　him。　It　could　just　be　Alun's　though。　Not　that　it　really　mattered　which　of　them　had　fathered　her　child　because　she　would　not　want　to　be　shacked　up　with　Ted　or　Alun。　They　were　OK　for　an　hour　or　two　on　a　date　but　living　with　them　would　be　like　living　with　Bill　in　the　next　room；　all　booze；　fags　and　sleeping　in　late。
　　
　　Barbara　wished　she　could　get　away　from　Stainforth；　just　walk　out　of　the　village　pushing　Michael　in　his　pram　and　never　e　back。　A　fantasy；　because　she　didn't　have　any　money　nor　anywhere　to　go。　So　that　was　that　and　she　would　have　to　stay　put。　Bill　had　threatened　to　throw　her　out　on　occasions　and　that　was　something　that　really　worried　her；　in　fact　she　had　almost　mentioned　it　to　the　health　visitor　last　week　but　she　didn't　want　to　cause　a　rumpus。
　　
　　Her　eyelids　began　to　droop。　Those　helicopters　up　on　the　moor　were　soothing；　like　the　distant　drone　of　bees　on　the　heather。　The　sort　of　sound　that　could　send　you　off　to　sleep　whether　you　were　tired　or　not。
　　
　　Barbara　woke　with　a　start；　sat　bolt　upright；　knew　instinctively　that　she　had　overslept。　She　fought　to　focus　her　bleary　eyes；　saw　that　the　cheap　alarm　clock　on　the　dresser　said　2。30。　And　it　was　always　half　an　hour　slow。　Oh；　Christ！　She　leaped　off　the　bed；　grabbed　her　crumpled　dress　and　shrugged　it　over　her　head。　Michael　was　overdue　for　his　next　feed。　It　was　a　wonder　he　hadn't　been　screaming　the　place　down；　with　Bill　yelling；　'Shaddup；　you　little　bugger；'　or；　'Jesus；　somebody　go　and　throttle　that　babby。'
　　
　　She　ran　downstairs　barefooted。　Bill　and　Betty　must　still　be　in　bed　or　else　they　had　gone　down　to　the　pub　for　a　lunchtime　pint。　That　was　one　bit　of　bonus　peace　anyway。　Michael　had　obviously　slept　right　through；　which　was　fine　except　that　in　all　probability　he　would　not　want　to　sleep　tonight。　You　couldn't　win；　you　were　backing　a　loser　whichever　way　you　looked　at　it。
　　
　　He　must　have　just　woken　up。　As　she　stepped　out　of　the　back　door　into　the　hot　charred　atmosphere　she　heard　his　rattle　clicking；　or　it　could　have　been　the　beads　shooting　from　one　end　of　the　rod　to　the　other。
　　
　　'There's　a　good　boy。'　She　quickened　her　pace　across　the　rough　unmown　grass。　'He's　ever　such　a　good　boy。　He　knew　his　momma　was　tired　so　he's　played　with　his　rattle　and　let　his　momma　get　some　sleep。　I'm　going　to　feed　you　now；　my　darling'
　　
　　She　grasped　the　handle　of　the　pram；　pulled　it　round　so　that　it　was　back　in　the　shade　of　the　lilac　again。
　　
　　And　then　she　let　out　a　piercing　scream　that　filled　the　smoky　Stainforth　air；　dung　on　to　the　pram　in　rigid　terror。　Michael　was　up　in　the　far　corner　and　it　was　quite　obvious　that　he　was　dead；　his　tiny　pink　face　bloated　and　purplish；　head　back；　eyes　wide　and　staring；　tongue　lolling　lifelessly　out　of　his　open　mouth。
　　
　　In　that　instant　Barbara　Brown's　mind　snapped。　She　stopped　screaming；　failed　to　wonder　why　Michael's　rattle　was　still　clicking　and　clinking　even　though　he　was　dead。　She　reached　across　to　grab　him　and　at　that　moment　the　crumpled　coverlet　moved　and　from　beneath　it　a　living　coil　began　to　unfurl；　a　light…coloured　creature　with　diamond…shaped　markings　on　its　back；　a　head　with　fangs　bared；　rearing　up；　a　killer　that　had　patiently　lain　in　ambush　beside　the　corpse　of　its　fast　kill。
　　
　　It　struck；　once；　twice；　thrice。　Darting　blows；　each　one　finding　their　mark　on　arms　and　face。　She　screamed　again；　fell　back　clutching　at　the　pram；　toppled　it　over　so　that　it　threw　both　baby　and　snake　to　the　ground。
　　
　　She　was　doubled　up　with　pain；　her　brain　unable　to　cope；　staggering　blindly　away；　falling　once　and　picking　herself　up。　Oblivious　of　her　own　safety；　the　thoughts　of　a　mother　only　for　her　baby；　refusing　to　accept　that　he　was　dead。　She　ran　but　the　snake　did　not　follow；　it　moved　with　amazing　speed　that　could　easily　have　overtaken　her　had　it　so　wished；　turning　and　slithering　away　beneath　the　thick　lilac　bush；　eased　its　way　beneath　the　hedge　and　into　the　undergrowth　beyond。
　　
　　Barbara　did　not　run　back　into　the　house。　No　logical　reason　except　perhaps　that　she　had　long　ago　given　up　asking　her　mother　for　help　in　any　matter　relating　to　baby　Michael。　Instead；　she　staggered　down　the　front　path；　through　the　open　gate　and　out　into　the　road。
　　
　　The　pain　was　unbearable；　anybody　except　a　distraught　mother　still　clinging　to　the　hope　that　her　offspring　might　be　saved；　would　have　collapsed　and　succumbed　to　the　writhings　and　convulsions　usually　caused　by　a　rattler's　bite。　Somehow　she　remained　upright；　staggering；　holding　on　to　parked　vehicles　for　support；　yelling　insanely；　her　lips　blue　and　puffed；　swelling　rapidly　so　that　by　the　time　a　group　of　bystanders　rushed　towards　her　she　was　babbling　incoherently。
　　
　　She　tried　to　wave　an　arm　back　the　way　she　had　e；　attempted　to　scream；　'My　baby；　save　my　baby　from　the　snake；'　but　she　only　managed　a　groan。
　　
　　And　that　was　when　her　brain　and　body　gave　out　and　she　slumped　forward　in　the　road。
　　
　　In　the　crowd　that　had　gathered　somebody　muttered　　'I　think　she's　dead。' '
　　
　　
　　
　　　Chapter　10
　　
　　KEITH　DOYLE　had　not　been　to　work　for　two　days；　not　since　his　nightmarish　experience　in　the　Evershams'　garage。　But　he　couldn't　just　sit　at　home　doing　nothing；　the　snakes　might　not　be　caught　for　weeks　and　it　could　cost　him　hundreds　of　pounds　in　lost　earnings。
　　
　　'Now；　don't　you　get　going　out　gardening。'　His　mother　turned　from　the　sink；　fixed　him　with　a　disapproving　stare；　a　pleading；　frightened　look　in　her　eyes。　'We　don't　want　any　more　trouble。　It's　a　wonder　I　didn't　have　a　heart　attack　last　time。　I'll　sit　here　worrying　myself　to　death　if　you　go　out　of　the　house。'
　　
　　'There's　nothing　whatever　the　matter　with　your　heart；'　he　snapped　irritably。　'You're　as　fit　as　I　am。　You're　just　using　emotional　blackmail　to　try　and　keep　me　at　home。'
　　
　　'You'll　be　safe　here。'　She　dried　a　plate　vigorously；　sensed　that　she　was　fighting　a　losing　battle；　decided　to　change　the　subject。　'How's　Kirsten？　You　haven't　brought　her　home　lately；　is　everything　all　right　between　you？'
　　
　　He　bit　his　lip；　had　to　stop　himself　from　snapping；　'It's　none　of　your　business；　Mother。'　He　had　not　seen　Kirsten　for　three　days　now。　After　his　experience　with　the　rattlesnake　at　the　Evershams'　he　had　spent　the　whole　evening　being　interviewed　by　reporters　eager　for　the　latest　snake　story；　and　when　he　had　finally　gone　to　meet　Kirsten　she　wasn't　there。　She　had　probably　given　him　up　and　gone　home。　He　should　have　gone　to　her　house　but　he　didn't。　Diplomacy；　or　was　it　just　bloody　cowardice？　The　next　morning　he　phoned　the　drapery　shop　in　town　and　Mrs　Holloway's　caustic　voice　informed　him；　'She's　not　in　today。'　That　was　all；　no　reason；　no　'Thank　you　for　calling；　she'll　be　in　tomorrow。'　Later　he　had　tried　to　phone　Kirsten　at　home　but　there　had　been　no　reply。　And　the　phone　rang　unanswered　again　yesterday。
　　
　　All　sorts　of　fears　crammed　his　frustrated　mind；　relegating　escaped　snakes　to　incidentals。　Maybe　the　Davis　family　had　left　Stainforth　for　the　time　being；　were　keep