Read Online A Late Divorce by A. B. Yehoshua - Free Book Online Page A

him? I already told you, I didn’t say a thing. Tell me what he said that I said, go on, I want to hear.... If you don’t know stop hassling me, I’m hassled enough as it is.... Because I’ll go see her by myself. I’ll get her to sign, you’ll see it will all work out.... All right....All right....All right....All right.... I’ll only say what’s absolutely necessary. Ten percent of my average output.”
    I know she’s smiling now into the phone that wise tender smile that I married her for not like Levana’s who isn’t missing a word her curly African head down grinning to herself for sheer joy. Hats off to her I never would have thought that she knew what average output meant. I can see that if I want to keep up her morale I have to crack some joke at my own expense every hour on the hour.
    â€œJust a minute, Ya’el.’’ I cover the receiver with my hand. “If you don’t mind, Levana, as long as I’m still in the office ... that wet rag we talked about ... the sign down below...”
    She rises grudgingly she takes a rag and goes out while I get back to Ya’el I say a few sweet words and remind her to reserve a place for her father on the limousine to Jerusalem tomorrow.
    I’d really better go or should I wait some more but what for. It doesn’t look like there’ll be any mail today. I sit down and open a locked drawer I take out the murder file and leaf through it. By now I know every detail by heart but still it obsesses me. This is my chance this is my hope this is my ticket to get ahead. The rest is garbage. Three months ago when Steiner died his office divvied up his cases. I got a young murderer a television repairman it looks like he really did it though he insists that he didn’t since then he’s all I think about. I’ve slept with him dreamed of him spent dozens of hours with him. His family has no money but they’ve called in a rich uncle from Belgium to help and help is what he’ll need. He made sure to leave his fingerprints all over the apartment everywhere except on the television that he never got around to fixing. But did he murder the old man or did he just find the corpse there I’m going nuts trying to figure it out I’ll drive the judges nuts too. I phone the prison and ask them to get him ready for me I’ll stop off on my way to have a chat with him.
    So now I really have to move. Only where’s Levana? I step into the dark corridor into its underworld mold. A few unsavory characters are sitting on the bench by the door to Mizrachi’s office for the past year the media have been arguing whether there’s organized crime in this country if they could see who’s being licensed to practice law these days they would realize that the organization is the government.
    So where has she gone to? I should never have sent her out. All I want now is to move to get going to do something. I return to the office glance at the telephone gather up my papers wipe a little dust with my finger from the volumes of the proceedings of the supreme court smear it on an old map of Israel on the wall rummage through Levana’s pocketbook hanging from her chair photographs of movie stars clipped from the newspapers crumpled tissues a vial of cheap perfume what a wasteland in keeping with the grayness of this office with its high mildewed British ceiling that smells of failure once I said to Ya’el give me some bright new idea here some fresh direction of paint but I dropped it when I saw what it would cost. I call my mother to let off some steam.
    â€œIt’s you at last. I thought you’d forgotten me.” (Since Ya’el’s father arrived she hasn’t had a moment of peace.) “What’s happening.” (It’s not a question, it’s a statement of fact.) “I called yesterday afternoon, did they tell you? What kind of business is that, leaving Gaddi alone