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“Is this to be
the subject of our conversation, what is bothering me?”
“Amongst other things, yes.”
Stan placed his pipe on the table and sighed and rolled his eyes upwards.
Harry thought again that he was so perfect for his play. It was simply a question of whether or not he could adapt to another life, and utilise what was very obviously a natural talent. It was one thing to convey expressions and mannerisms in everyday life, but to display them on a stage in front of a crowd of people was another matter entirely.
“I know things, Henry.”
“What kind of things, Stan? Come on, drink your tea and have a fig roll.”
“You don’t understand, Henry. Tea and fig rolls will not help alleviate the problems of the world.” Stan’s tone worried Harry. Despite knowing what he could be like, he had never seen him acting as weird as today. Another indication that he should make his move.
“Has something happened?”
The old man gripped Harry’s hands with a speed that startled him. “Do you not read the newspapers, Henry?”
“Which ones? What are you talking about?”
“There’s a murderer on the loose. He has to be stopped.”
“You don’t want to worry yourself about that. I’m sure the police will catch him before long.”
“I hear things on the street. The police have no idea who they’re looking for. They have no idea where he’ll strike next. The city of Leeds is no safe place.”
“When you say you know things,” said Harry, “do you mean you know things about the killer which could put you in danger?”
Stan remained silent for so long it really unnerved Harry. During the ensuing silence, his thoughts were sporadic. Was Stan’s life in danger? Did he know the killer, or something about him? “Where exactly do you stay at night, Stan?”
Stan’s glare created a feeling of depression within Harry. Their conversation was not going to plan. “The streets are unsafe.”
“Would you like to stay here tonight?”
“Is it any safer here than anywhere else?”
“Well, I’m here. There’ll be plenty of other people here tonight, we have a council meeting.”
“I’m not sure, Henry. You are too good a friend to me, I have no desire to place you in the danger I myself may be facing.”
“Nonsense, you’re worried, and I’d like to help. And there’s something else we can talk about tonight.”
Stan picked up the empty pipe and puffed on it, as if it contained tobacco. “What?”
“My work here is nearly done, Stan.”
“Are you leaving?” Stan’s eyes widened and his grip grew tighter, and it was only then that Harry realised his hands were still coupled to those of his friend. “You can’t leave! Where will I go, who will I talk to?”
“Well, that’s just it, Stan. Where I’m going, you can come, too.”
“What?” His friend seemed horrified by the suggestion. Yet only seconds ago, he had feared for his life on the streets.
“I’m going back to New York. I want you to come with me.”
“To New York? Are you out of your mind? I can’t go to New York, it’s less safe than here.” Stan stood up and abruptly let go of Harry’s hands. “Besides, I don’t know anyone in New York. What if they don’t like me? Or I can’t make friends? What shall I do then?”
“Stan, stop worrying and calm down. You’ll be with me.”
