Feet of Clay - Terry Pratchett [57]
“It’s been a long day for all of us, sir,” said Carrot.
Vimes sagged. “OK,” he said. “Tomorrow…I want you, Carrot, to check on the golems in the city. If they’re up to something I want to know what it is. And you, Littlebottom…you look everywhere in the old man’s house for more arsenic. I wish I could believe that you’ll find any.”
Angua had volunteered to walk Littlebottom back to her lodgings. The dwarf was surprised that the men let her do this. After all, it’d mean that Angua would then have to walk on home by herself.
“Aren’t you afraid?” Cheery said as they walked through the damp clouds of fog.
“Nope.”
“But I imagine muggers and cut-throats would be out in a fog like this. And you said you lived in the Shades.”
“Oh, yes. But I haven’t been bothered lately.”
“Ah, perhaps they’re frightened of the uniform?”
“Possibly,” said Angua.
“Probably they’ve learned respect.”
“You may be right.”
“Er…excuse me…but are you and Captain Carrot…?”
Angua waited politely.
“…Er…”
“Oh, yes,” said Angua, taking pity. “We’re er. But I stay at Mrs. Cake’s boarding house because you need your own space in a city like this.” And an understanding landlady sympathetic to those with special needs, she added to herself. Like doorhandles that a paw could operate, and a window left open on moonlit nights. “You’ve got to have somewhere where you can be yourself. Anyway, the Watch House smells of socks.”
“I’m staying with my Uncle Armstrangler,” said Cheery. “It’s not very nice there. People talk about mining most of the time.”
“Don’t you?”
“There’s not a lot you can say about mining. ‘I mine in my mine and what’s mine is mine,’” said Cheery in a singsong voice. “And then they go on about gold which, frankly, is a lot duller than people think.”
“I thought dwarfs loved gold,” said Angua.
“They just say that to get it into bed.”
“Are you sure you’re a dwarf? Sorry. That was a joke.”
“There must be more interesting things. Hair. Clothes. People.”
“Good grief. You mean girl talk?”
“I don’t know, I’ve never talked girl talk before,” said Cheery. “Dwarfs just talk.”
“It’s like that in the Watch, too.” said Angua. “You can be any sex you like provided you act male. There’s no men and women in the Watch, just a bunch of lads. You’ll soon learn the language. Basically it’s how much beer you supped last night, how strong the curry was you had afterwards, and where you were sick. Just think egotesticle. You’ll soon get the hang of it. And you’ll have to be prepared for sexually explicit jokes in the Watch House.”
Cheery blushed.
“Mind you, that seems to have ended now,” said Angua.
“Why? Did you complain?”
“No, after I joined in it all seemed to stop,” said Angua. “And, you know, they didn’t laugh? Not even when I did the hand gestures too? I thought that was unfair. Mind you, some of them were quite small gestures.”
“There’s no help for it, I’ll have to move out,” sighed Cheery. “I feel all…wrong.”
Angua looked down at the little figure trudging along beside her. She recognized the symptoms. Everyone needed their own space, just like Angua did, and sometimes that space was inside their heads. And she liked Cheery, oddly enough. Possibly it was because of her earnestness. Or the fact that she was the only person apart from Carrot who didn’t look slightly frightened when they talked to her. And that was because she didn’t know. Angua wanted to preserve that ignorance as a small precious thing, but she could tell when someone needed a little change in their lives.
“We’re going quite close to Elm Street,” she said, carefully. “Just, er, drop in for a while. I’ve got some stuff you could borrow…”
I won’t be needing it, she told herself. When I go, I won’t be able to carry much.
Constable Downspout watched the fog. Watching was, after staying in one place, the thing he did best. But he was also good at keeping quite still. Not making any noise whatsoever was another of his best features. When it came to doing absolutely