The Sound Mirror by Heidi James

Author:Heidi James
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BLUEMOOSE
Published: 2020-07-28T07:03:34+00:00

CLAIRE

But she’s happy. They’ve got four little ones now, two girls to balance the twins. She’s got her house finally, with a front and back garden so she can grow flowers and fruit and have a vegetable patch. She sows lines of beans and peas and winds nets over raspberry and gooseberry bushes like she’s wrapping up her hair after a shampoo and set. The kids have got a swing. They’ve got a telly off Radio Rentals, and she’s got a lovely set of Pyrex dishes and a matching dinner service. The parlour is for best and she keeps it spotless; the front room is for every day, no visitor ever goes in there, and they’ve got three good sized bedrooms and a bathroom. They make ends meet and have a little bit left over. She has her hair done every week and she’s kept her figure. She keeps to the standards set.

Den works hard and loves her, dotes on the kids, still makes her laugh. When he gets in from work he leaves his boots at the door and washes the grease and oil off his hands before grabbing her for a kiss and then cuddling the little ’uns. Hands over his wages every Friday, keeping only a bit for himself; rarely goes to the pub, never to the bookies. He’s bought a car, the only one on the street, and tinkers with it every weekend to get it going again. It’s a right old banger, but if it’s got an engine he can fix it and it won’t be long before they can pile the kids in the back and go on jaunts to the seaside and drives in the country. He’s a good man, everyone says so, but still she checks his collar and his underpants for signs of other women, gets upset if he so much as glances at anyone on the street. She’s never found nothing, but she knows what men are like, what they need, ain’t they all the same? You can’t be too careful and you can’t be this happy without something taking it all away. Nothing this good can last. And she can’t pretend she don’t love being with him, next to him, under him; she can’t pretend that he don’t fill up a need in her that seems to open up the minute he’s out the door, that she can’t bear to lose him.

‘You all right, girl?’ Bert pops his head round the door and half scares the life out of her.

‘Bloody hell, Bertie! You’re like a cat burglar you are.’

‘Sorry babe, didn’t mean to scare you. Just dropping off some veg and bits, some nice plums in there an’ all, just for you.’ He dumps two paper sacks on her clean tops and dry mud scatters everywhere. She ignores it.

‘I forgive you. Tea?’

‘Go on then, I can spare five minutes for my favourite sister.’

‘Give over, you charmer.’ She lights the gas under the kettle and, with the same match, sparks up a fag from the pack on the counter.

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