A Patch of Fog Page #3

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I'm sorry that you're lonely.

But I'm not responsible.

We can't keep

meeting up like this.

I've taken legal advice. If I don't get

the disc tonight, I'm gonna report you.

Have you ever

surfed the net, Sandy?

Have you ever looked up

CCTV footage of shoplifters?

- Oh, god.

- No, listen.

There was this girl, right,

she wasn't even famous.

She only stole

a bottle of shampoo. Yeah?

And she got over a million hits.

Loneliness may not be a

crime but you know what is?

- Blackmail.

- I'm not blackmailing ya.

- I'm just making conversation.

- Really?

I wonder what the police

would think of that.

Let's go and ask them.

Let's see what the papers say.

"Writer steals pen."

- It practically writes itself.

- Oh, yeah.

I'll be in the papers,

but I won't be on my own.

You blackmailed me

into befriending you.

You offered me money

and I said no, if you remember.

- We'll just see what the police say, eh?

- Yeah, let's.

Especially when I tell 'em

about your other thefts.

What other thefts?

No, you don't know.

You're just bluffing.

We'll find out

soon enough, won't we?

There's no way.

There's just no way.

Really?

Last week, that pen.

Three months ago, a paperweight.

Six months ago, aftershave.

Were they all accidents,

as well?

You must be accident prone.

Funny thing is, your phone

goes off every single time.

What are the odds on that? Hey?

I think the papers'll

still wanna speak to me?

Look, I didn't take legal

advice. No, I made that up.

Be with you in a minute, gents.

Alright, bill. No worries.

We're not going anywhere.

Are we?

You can come to the

art exhibit with me tonight.

You know, give me the layman's

opinion, just like you said.

I'll even start

recording that audiobook.

- What do you say?

- Am I a blackmailer?

No.

Am I a sad little man?

- No.

- Remind me.

- Who's the thief?

- Me.

So who's really

the sad little man?

I could do that.

Or am I missing something,

Sandy?

It's all subjective.

Is it blood? Is it rusty water

from the river?

No, I don't see that. I see

a bath full of tomato soup.

Y'know, I'll be honest with ya.

I did know who you were

when you came into my shop.

Yeah. I mean, you know,

I watched the show.

I wasn't a big fan back

then, but I am now.

I wouldn't miss it now. You know,

everyone knows who you are.

Who'd have thought it, eh?

Sandy Duffy, a shop-lifter.

Shh.

It's all subjective.

Inevitable.

Ooh, I like this one.

I like the light.

It's a heater, Robert.

Robert... what exactly

do you want from me?

You make it sound like

I wanna stick pins in ya.

I just wanna be your friend.

And this is your

idea of friendship?

Hoarding evidence of me

shoplifting to use against me?

Whoa, whoa, whoa... No, you've

got this completely wrong.

I'm not hoarding anything.

Think of it as safe-keeping.

You know, you was gonna get caught

anyway, wasn't ya, in the end.

Imagine if you'd have got

caught by somebody else.

You'd be finished.

You would.

You wouldn't be at this

fancy art exhibition.

I'm doing you a favor.

Yeah?

So what exactly

am I doing wrong, Sandy?

Tell me.

- Thanks.

- No, it's alright.

Come on, let's go.

I've had enough.

This is crap, this.

It's rubbish.

Absolutely rubbish.

"In the years to come, he would look

back on the day when the fog came down,

and the streets of Belfast

were clogged and blinded,

and when his son wandered alone,

and he wasn't able to find him.

His son was a mystery to him.

Was this the way it was

with all fathers?

Watching them grow and turn

into something unfamiliar?

He was a vagabond.

Disobedient.

How would

this young lad grow old?

What would he become?

Hiya, Robert.

Welcome, come on in.

Oh, thank you very much.

You shouldn't have bothered.

- D'you find it alright?

- Yeah.

- Good. Come on in.

- Wow.

So this is the house

that fog built.

Yeah, I suppose so.

Can I take your coat?

No, you're ok.

Right, well,

let me give you a tour.

And this is my office.

- So.

- Wow.

- What's this?

- Oh, that's Troy's new novel.

I have to read it

and then write a foreword.

- Any good?

- Well, so far so good.

Haven't started it yet.

So are you looking

for something, Robert?

- Yeah, a copy of your book.

- Oh, you won't find that here.

What? You haven't got

a copy of your own book?

No. The original handwritten manuscript's

here somewhere, but, no books.

Wow. I'd love to see that.

Yeah, well,

I'm not sure where it is.

I'll dig it out for the next

time you come round, eh?

But, in the meantime,

this'll keep you happy.

The first three chapters

of patch of fog. Huh?

- Wow.

- Alright.

Sandy? Can I just...

just take a quick selfie?

Here you go. Just here.

- Oh, with me?

- Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Of course, yeah.

- Alright?

- No, no, no. No good.

We need to be a bit closer,

just a little bit closer.

- Really?

- Ready?

Ok. Ow.

Hey...

- Is that what I think it is?

- Think of it as a peace pipe.

I was a bit harsh on you

in the art exhibit.

I've never done it before.

It's alright. I'm with ya.

That's the spirit.

Oh, exhale, Robert.

Alright?

Yeah. Me head's a bit spinny.

That means it's working.

It's lovely home-grown stuff.

Almost organic.

Wow.

Get the full tension.

- Sandy?

- Hm?

Can I ask you

something personal?

Yeah.

Why do you steal?

There's this...

Intense feeling comes over you.

You're waiting for that

hand on your shoulder.

To be caught for the first time.

To be shown up as a fraud

in front of the whole world.

Your heart thumps,

your palms sweat.

You even have

difficulty breathing.

It sounds awful.

It's the greatest feeling

in the world.

Provided you don't get caught.

See, you understand.

I can talk to you.

And yet there's still

this elephant in the room.

Yeah.

Yeah, a big pink elephant.

No. Robert,

the elephant is a metaphor.

It means something

that everyone ignores

because they don't wanna talk

about it but it's always there,

getting in the way of

things that really matter.

The discs of me shoplifting.

How can we be real friends when

that's hanging over my head

like the sword of...

Like a big sword?

So what do you suggest?

Well, why don't we

go to your place now,

get it, throw it in the river, and

be done with it once and for all?

- What do you say?

- Don't you trust me?

Of course I do, 100 percent.

And we've got a connection,

haven't we?

- No doubt about it.

- So why do you want the disc?

So why do you

wanna keep the discs?

I mean, if we're really friends,

don't you trust me, Robert?

Yeah.

I'm keeping the disc

for your safety.

Ah... well, then,

here's to friendship...

and death to elephants.

Yeah. Death to elephants.

Alright.

Did you have a bag or anything?

- No.

- Ok.

- I'm ok.

- You ok?

- Dave. Alright?

- - How are you?

Cold, isn't it?

Hey, this is on me.

Ok, no problem, thank you.

Thank you.

Front or back, Robert?

- The back.

- Back it is.

You know where

you're going, Dave?

- 39 Barnes road?

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