‘Hello?’
‘Hi. I’m so, so sorry to call you at this late hour. I just . . . I need . . . I’m really, really sorry, but—’
‘Well, for god’s sake, tell me who it is.’
‘My name is Blair. You don’t know me.’
‘Are you calling from a payphone?’
‘Yeah. I’m sorry, sir. I just need someone to talk to. I feel so bad for waking you up.’
‘Hell, you didn’t wake me up, darlin’. I don’t never sleep these days. My house is full of gremlins every second week. Are you okay? You sound all puffed out.’
‘I’m fine. I’m okay. I’m . . . Did you say gremlins?’
‘My sister’s kids. She got a second job workin’ night shift at a sawmill. Place runs all day and all night. That’s why I’m talkin’ quiet. I only just got them little bastards to sleep. Kids don’t know what’s good in the world. They don’t like sleep. They don’t like food. They don’t know what great skin and hair they got. I went bald at fifteen. Smooth as an egg. Took me two weeks. Like somethin’ scared it right out of me.’
‘How old are the kids?’
‘John’s seven and Maggie’s three and a half. So what is this? Is this like one of them survey calls where you win a prize?’
‘No, no. I’m sorry. I don’t have anything—’
‘My aunt got a call in the night like this once. Said she won a four-day cruise. She told everybody. Turned out it was a whole lot of bullshit. They just wanted her credit card numbers. Oh, Lord. Oh, shit. Go back to bed, Johnny.’
‘Oh, no.’
‘It’s nothin’. Nothin’. Just one of them survey calls. Go back to bed or . . . Ah, shit. You woke the baby. Now it’s a party.’
‘I’m so sorry.’
‘It’s all right. Don’t worry about it. Hell, it’s always a party at Uncle Shane’s place. Ain’t that right, Mags, huh? Who wants milk?’