Read Online 4 Death at the Happiness Club by Cecilia Peartree - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Cecilia Peartree
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thinks you are,' she said, took a swig of brandy and started to choke. With tears running down her face she added, 'You were top of the class at school. You went to university. You had a good job. You saved all of us - you and that spy woman. You've never done anything bad. Or wrong.'
He sighed. 'Even if I were as perfect as that, it doesn't mean your life isn't worth anything.'
'But it isn't, is it?' she said. The tears kept on running down her face, although she had stopped choking.
'Of course it is,' he said. 'Surely the therapists have told you that?'
'I'm just a tiny speck in eternity,' she said. 'I could be wiped away like that!' She snapped her fingers.
An image came into his head and he started to laugh.
'Wiped away by the cosmic windscreen wipers? Neutralised by the celestial de-icer spray?'
She waited for him to calm down, then spoke again. 'You're doing it again!'
'Laughing? Sorry, Caroline. I don't know what else to do. If I didn't laugh I would cry. You're not the only one who's a speck in eternity - we all are. We've just got to get over it and get on with our lives.'
He was astonished at how much like a minister he sounded: he had never articulated his ideas about this kind of thing before. Maybe it took a crisis in a tent with your sister to bring out this kind of talk.
'But what's the point?' wailed Caroline.
'There isn't any point!' he shouted.
'So why do we carry on?' she asked.
'Because it's the only thing to do!' he yelled. 'Why can't you see that, for God's sake?'
Behind him the tent door was suddenly unzipped, and rough hands grabbed Christopher by the shoulders and hauled him upright.
'What's going on here?' said a deep masculine voice. 'I don't know if you're scaring this lady, but you're keeping me and my whole family awake!'
Christopher tried to twist round to see his attacker, but it was impossible.
Caroline said, suddenly and unexpectedly, 'This is my brother Christopher, and we were just having a philosophical argument.'
'That's what it's called, is it? Well, either go and have it somewhere else, or pipe down a bit.'
The intruder released Christopher, who fell on his face on the sleeping bag. He heard the tent door being zipped up again. It was safe to laugh, but he did it quietly, in case the man objected to being laughed at just as Caroline had a few moments before.
Caroline.
He pushed himself up to a crouching position to look at her. She smiled at him tentatively.
'Are you all right?' he asked.
She nodded. 'I feel better now than I have for a long time.'
Christopher didn't claim to understand women, but surely sisters were a mutated sub-species, or whatever the biological term was. But if shouting at Caroline over some vague issue to do with the human condition helped her to recover, maybe it was justified.
He sat up straight and faced her.
'Is there any brandy left, or are you going to hog it yourself?'
Sharing a drink with a recovering alcoholic was of course absolutely the wrong thing to do, but Christopher knew that, no matter how hard he tried, he would never do the right thing anyway. He might as well relax and go with the flow for now.
As rain battered on the top of the tent, they silently shared the last dregs from the bottle and eventually slept.
Chapter 10 Stormy Waters
Maisie Sue wasn't sure how safe the boat was. It didn't seem all that impressive, with its peeling paintwork, scruffy seats and odd smell, but if there was one lesson she had taken to heart after two years living in Scotland, it was that she mustn't criticise things based on their appearance. What was unacceptably squalid to her would usually turn out to be perfectly normal - even luxurious - as far as the other inhabitants of Pitkirtly were concerned.
The weather didn't look very promising either. Only yesterday there had been blue sky as far as you could see, and temperatures reaching almost into the twenties - Maisie Sue had learned to count in Centigrade after a couple of
He sighed. 'Even if I were as perfect as that, it doesn't mean your life isn't worth anything.'
'But it isn't, is it?' she said. The tears kept on running down her face, although she had stopped choking.
'Of course it is,' he said. 'Surely the therapists have told you that?'
'I'm just a tiny speck in eternity,' she said. 'I could be wiped away like that!' She snapped her fingers.
An image came into his head and he started to laugh.
'Wiped away by the cosmic windscreen wipers? Neutralised by the celestial de-icer spray?'
She waited for him to calm down, then spoke again. 'You're doing it again!'
'Laughing? Sorry, Caroline. I don't know what else to do. If I didn't laugh I would cry. You're not the only one who's a speck in eternity - we all are. We've just got to get over it and get on with our lives.'
He was astonished at how much like a minister he sounded: he had never articulated his ideas about this kind of thing before. Maybe it took a crisis in a tent with your sister to bring out this kind of talk.
'But what's the point?' wailed Caroline.
'There isn't any point!' he shouted.
'So why do we carry on?' she asked.
'Because it's the only thing to do!' he yelled. 'Why can't you see that, for God's sake?'
Behind him the tent door was suddenly unzipped, and rough hands grabbed Christopher by the shoulders and hauled him upright.
'What's going on here?' said a deep masculine voice. 'I don't know if you're scaring this lady, but you're keeping me and my whole family awake!'
Christopher tried to twist round to see his attacker, but it was impossible.
Caroline said, suddenly and unexpectedly, 'This is my brother Christopher, and we were just having a philosophical argument.'
'That's what it's called, is it? Well, either go and have it somewhere else, or pipe down a bit.'
The intruder released Christopher, who fell on his face on the sleeping bag. He heard the tent door being zipped up again. It was safe to laugh, but he did it quietly, in case the man objected to being laughed at just as Caroline had a few moments before.
Caroline.
He pushed himself up to a crouching position to look at her. She smiled at him tentatively.
'Are you all right?' he asked.
She nodded. 'I feel better now than I have for a long time.'
Christopher didn't claim to understand women, but surely sisters were a mutated sub-species, or whatever the biological term was. But if shouting at Caroline over some vague issue to do with the human condition helped her to recover, maybe it was justified.
He sat up straight and faced her.
'Is there any brandy left, or are you going to hog it yourself?'
Sharing a drink with a recovering alcoholic was of course absolutely the wrong thing to do, but Christopher knew that, no matter how hard he tried, he would never do the right thing anyway. He might as well relax and go with the flow for now.
As rain battered on the top of the tent, they silently shared the last dregs from the bottle and eventually slept.
Chapter 10 Stormy Waters
Maisie Sue wasn't sure how safe the boat was. It didn't seem all that impressive, with its peeling paintwork, scruffy seats and odd smell, but if there was one lesson she had taken to heart after two years living in Scotland, it was that she mustn't criticise things based on their appearance. What was unacceptably squalid to her would usually turn out to be perfectly normal - even luxurious - as far as the other inhabitants of Pitkirtly were concerned.
The weather didn't look very promising either. Only yesterday there had been blue sky as far as you could see, and temperatures reaching almost into the twenties - Maisie Sue had learned to count in Centigrade after a couple of
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