Chapter 6

A low voice rumbled in protest, its pitch causing little Marty to vibrate in pleasure. “Hey, what kind of a welcome home is this?”

I opened the door wide once more. My Hitchhikers twain had vanished, and Bill stood there, a Greek statue come to life (only much better hung; what werethose sculptors thinking of?)

“Bill,” I said breathily, to show I’d lost only 99% of my capacity for rational thought at the precious, wonderful sight of him.

“Hey,” he said. His smile, I’ve always thought, should be patented. Protected by copyright. But then again, should something so good not be freely disseminated?

No, dammit. He should keep those smiles for me.

“Are you going to let me in? Seeing as it’s my flat, and all?”

I stood back mutely, doubting my current ability to walk and talk at the same time. He entered. I blushed at the connotations running through my mind.

“Fish okay?”

“Peachy.”

“You okay?”

“Likewise.”

“That weirdo from upstairs give you any bother?”