The Ordinary Man by Christie J. Newport

Author:Christie J. Newport [Newport, Christie J.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-02-08T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Four

The Ordinary Man

He drives to Mrs Howe’s house with the radio on full whack. Rock music blasting through the car. The windows are down, and he has his arm outside, his hand pushing against the air. ‘Wooo!’ he yells. ‘Wahoo! Fuckin’ yeah!’

The lights ahead change from green to amber, so he puts his foot down and races through. He’s pretty certain it’s red by the time he crosses the line. He’s always so careful, making sure he has no reason to end up in any police system. Not even for a speeding fine. Today, he can’t contain himself. Life is for living. As he approaches Mrs Howe’s, he slows the car and turns the music low. He dampens down his mood appropriately. Remaining professional at all times during working hours is vital.

He pulls onto the drive and spots Mrs Howe sitting in a deckchair in the front garden. She’s overlooking the street; an ideal position for an old lady with nothing better to do than spy on her neighbours. She has a cup of tea in one hand and a women’s mag in the other.

‘Hello.’ She smiles. ‘I’m being spoiled today. Young Eleanor is looking after me. Brought me a magazine and everything. She’s set me up out here, insists the vitamin D will do me the world of good. She’s such a sweet girl; she takes care of me so well.’ She’s like a peacock fluffing her feathers with pride.

He steps down from the truck, leaving the windows down, and closes the door. ‘Glad to hear it.’

‘She will no doubt pop the kettle back on once she knows you’re here.’

He smiles. ‘That’d be lovely, thank you.’ He heads for the truck bed and starts unloading the items he will need.

He gets to work, starting in the front garden so he can amuse himself watching Mrs Howe none-too-discreetly spying on the comings and goings of the street. She almost falls out of the chair a couple of times; she’s straining her neck that far.

‘Do you want another cuppa, Nan?’ Eleanor stands in the doorway, her hair pulled back into a high ponytail, a ready smile on her face. His eyes linger over every inch of her, imagining his hands roving her body, his fingers squeezing around her neck. She notices him watching and her smile slips. ‘Sorry, I didn’t realize you were here. Would you like one too?’

‘Thanks, coffee please.’ He turns away from her, making a point of busying himself. The flush of being caught staring travels up his neck. Using the shears, he gets to work trimming back the bushes. He’ll mow after they’ve had their drinks; otherwise, bits of grass and debris will end up flavouring them.

There isn’t a great deal to do today; he’s been so thorough lately that everything is already pretty neat and tidy. Being efficient and hardworking pays off, as far as getting him new clients goes. When it comes to his existing ones, it can be to his detriment in some ways.

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