Surrounded by piles of clean
washing, Claire looked up from the ironing board as Mike walked into the
kitchen.
‘You’re
early,’ she said.
‘I’ve
got an hour to kill, so I thought I’d pop back for some tea.’
‘Was
the pub closed then?’
Ignoring
the barb, Mike opened a copy of the News
in Focus he’d picked up on the front porch and came and stood next to his
wife at the ironing board.
‘Feast
your eyes on that then,’ he said, shoving the paper in front of Claire.
‘You know my client – that comedian I was
telling you about? He said he’d be back
in the news again. Well that’s him.
I think he’s upset the whole of High Brooms.’
Claire
glanced at the story. There was a
picture of Dave Whitby posing in front of the offending car, and the caption
said ‘Comedian’s Car Caper Backfires’.
‘I
don’t think he’s come out of it as well as he hoped,’ continued Mike brightly,
oblivious to his wife’s dark mood. ‘Mind
you, he’s managed to get some publicity, which can’t be bad in his game, I
s’pose. Shame he didn’t manage to hit
the daily papers.’
Claire
sniffed disapprovingly.‘ How pathetic
can you get? I hope they throw the book
at him. Stupid wally.’
‘It’s
not entirely his fault. If his neighbour
hadn’t been so territorial over his parking space...’
‘You
sound as if you approve.’
Mike
hesitated. He could sense Claire wanted
an argument. ‘Well...’ he began
uncertainly, ‘it’s only a bit of a laugh.’
‘Oh,
very amusing.’
‘What’s
up?’
There
was a pause while she moved a pile of ironed clothes onto a chair, then
struggled to take down the ironing board.
‘Here,
let me give you a hand,’ offered Mike.
‘I
can manage!’ she snapped, and shoved the ironing board into its cubby hole
behind the fridge.
Mike
sighed and busied himself with making a pot of tea.
‘I’m
sorry, Mike,’ said Claire. ‘I’m sorry I
shouted. It’s just that
everything’s...Tom phoned to complain about the lack of advertising in the
wedding supplement, as if it’s my fault.
I know I’m the general dog’s-body there, but I am only a part-timer.
Then I had two weeks’ washing and ironing to
catch up on. And Chloe phoned.’
She
sat at the kitchen table, waiting for Mike to join her.
He sensed there was more bad news on the
way. He poured out two mugs of tea and
sat opposite her.
‘What
was Chloe ringing about? Is she okay?’
‘Andrew’s
been in touch with her recently. Trying
to borrow money from her.’
Mike
took a small sip of tea and slammed his mug down.
‘What?
She’s not leant him any, has she?’
Claire
shook her head.‘ She refused.
But she said she found it difficult.
He wouldn’t tell her what it was for but he
pleaded with her. Offered to pay her
back with interest.’
‘What
the hell is he spending his money on?’ questioned Mike.
Gambling? Booze?’
‘Whatever
it is, the problem’s going to get worse.
He’ll be eighteen in three months’ time, and he’ll get the inheritance
Mum and dad left him.’
‘Oh,
hell!’ moaned Mike. ‘I’d forgotten about that.’
‘I
hadn’t.’
‘What
the hell will he do with ten grand?’
*
Gary
was on his best behaviour, pretending he was suffering guilt and remorse from
losing so much on a poker game. All week
Maggie had been watching his every move and he knew he didn’t dare put a foot
wrong. The atmosphere was strained but
at least he was back in his house.
Things would soon be back to normal.
Unfortunately, he hadn’t anticipated that Sharon
would be so stupid as to call him at home.
Why couldn’t she text him on his mobile, then none of this would have
happened?
He
was out in the garden being a model father and playing with the children when
the phone rang. He dashed into the house
but Maggie got there first.
‘Hello?
Hello?’
Maggie
listened for a moment, replaced the receiver, picked it up again and dialled
1-4-7-1.Then she wrote a number down on
a notepad and started to redial.
Who
is it?’ asked Gary, starting to
fear the worst.
‘I
don’t know yet.'
‘What
are you doing?’
I’m
finding out who just rang.’
‘It
was probably a wrong number,’ he offered with little hope.
‘Shut
up, Gary!’ she barked.
‘I can’t concentrate.
Go and make me a cup of coffee.’
He
slunk away into the kitchen, hovering at the door to listen to the
conversation. He heard her say something
about not being a double-glazing canvasser but someone doing market research
about fast food. He missed the next part
of the conversation while he put the kettle on.
He quickly spooned instant coffee into a cup then moved swiftly back to
the door. He panicked as he heard Maggie
ending the conversation with:
‘Thank
you, Sharon.
You’ve been a great help.’
He
couldn’t think straight. Sweat broke out
under his arms and he braced himself for the confrontation, wishing now he’d
never become involved with the stupid little tart.
‘That
was Sharon,’ said Maggie with
satisfaction as she entered the kitchen.
‘Sharon?’
He put on a puzzled expression.
She
smiled, enjoying his discomfort. ‘You
must know Sharon.
She works for us at the Maidstone
shop. That little scrubber with the
crooked teeth.’
He
tried to make his voice sound light, disinterested.
‘What did she want?
Did she say?’
‘Don’t
be stupid, Gary.
She called here and hung up when I answered,
and I traced the call. Now why would
she call then hang up?’ Gary’s
throat felt dry. He tried to
swallow.‘ I don’t know.
Maybe she...’
‘Maybe
she what?’
She
was staring at him, her eyes like cold steel.
He
shrugged helplessly. ‘Maybe she was
going to hand in her notice then changed her mind.’
‘Of
course, she could have dialled 1-4-1
before the number then I would never have known who called.
I wonder why she didn’t?’ Gary
pursed his lips, suggesting it was all beyond his comprehension.
Maggie suddenly smiled sweetly.
‘The
children are waiting for you to finish the game.’
‘Oh.
Right,’ he said, making a sideways move towards the back door.
She
smiled again, though her eyes were cold.
He found her behaviour unsettling.
This was far worse than any argument.
IN EPISODE THIRTEEN ON THURSDAY
Marjorie is suspicious about Ted’s
behaviour and Maggie confronts Sharon
at the chippie.
