第33章 (第3/3页)
entric souls, as illiterate as puppies and as pitiless as a circular saw. The old professional burglar was apt to be as individual as the member of any other profession, and as little vicious. Quiet little domestic men, interested in family holidays and the children's tonsils; or odd bachelors devoted to cage-birds, or second-hand bookshops, or complicated and infallible betting systems. Old-fashioned types.
No modern thug would write to say that he was sorry that a 'busy' was laid aside. No such idea would ever cross a modern thug's mind.
Writing a letter when lying on one's back is a laborious business, and Grant shied away from it. But the top envelope on the pile bore the writing of his cousin Laura, and Laura would become anxious if she had no answer at all from him. Laura and he had shared summer holidays as children, and had been a little in love with each other all through one Highland summer, and that made a bond between them that had never been broken. He had better send Laura a note to say that he was alive.
He read her letter again, smiling a little; and the waters of the Turlie sounded in his ears and slid under his eyes, and he could smell the sweet cold small of a Highland moor in winter, and he forgot for a little that he was a hospital patient and that life was sordid and boring and claustrophobic.
Pat sends what would be his love if he were a little older or just a little younger. Being nine, he says: 'Tell Alan I was asking for him', and has a fly of his own invention waiting to be presented to you when you come on sick-leave. He is a little in disgrace at the moment in school, having learned for the first time that the Scots sold Charles the First to the English and having decided that he can no longer belong to such a nation. He is therefore, I under stand, conducting a one-man protest strike against all things Scottish, and will learn no history, sing no song, nor memorize any geography pertaining to so deplorable a country. He announced this going to bed last night and that he has decided to apply for Norwegian citizenship.
Grant took his letter pad from the table and wrote in pencil:
Dearest Laura,
Would you be unbearably surprised to learn that the Princes in the Tower survived Richard III?