Read Online A Poison Tree (Time, Blood and Karma Book 3) by John Dolan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: John Dolan
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unkempt and I doubted he’d shaved that morning.
“How are you, Mark?”
He made a wry face and indicated the room with his chopsticks. “As you can see, I’m doing OK.”
“Are you working?”
“What do you think?”
“Harry told me you and Janine are no longer together. He was concerned about you.”
“Then why are you here and not him?”
“I’m here because I can offer you a job and Harry can’t,” I replied.
He leaned back in the chair.
“Yes, Janine and I have split up. Women, eh? Can’t live with ‘ em and can’t kill ‘em.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He recommenced eating.
“We need someone at the Northampton showroom. I thought of you. It could be a bit of a new start for you.”
“ Northampton? ” he said, dripping sarcasm. “Ah, the Venice of the Midlands. Culture, nightlife and all the tedium you can stomach.”
“It’s got to be better than this .”
“And what makes you think I’d want to work for you, David? You’re the one who sacked me in the first place. Without you I wouldn’t be here.”
“I’m not the one who broke up your marriage, Mark,” I said. “ That’s why you’re here. Pull yourself together, and stop this self-destructive behaviour.”
“Well, pardon me, Mister Braddock, if we can’t all have perfect marriages like yours. Although I doubt yours is exactly perfect.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He dropped his eyes and put more food into his mouth. “Nothing,” he mumbled.
I stood up and put one of my business cards on the mantelpiece.
“Call me when you’re in a more receptive frame of mind, Mark.”
“That might be some time,” he responded. “Let yourself out, would you? I’d like to watch the end of the news.”
My cell phone rang and I answered it without checking the caller.
“David Braddock.”
“Hello, David,” said a robotic voice. “Have you checked on Claire yet? You should, you know.”
“I’m sorry, you must have the wrong number.”
I switched the phone off.
“Who was that?” asked Claire, setting the dinner table.
“Another wrong number. I keep getting them. Damn phone company.”
Without question, I should have just told Claire I’d been getting malicious calls. Then perhaps the whole thing would have been over. We could have had a laugh about it and put it to bed. But something held me back. I think it was a conversation we’d had a few years ago when we were on one of our regular holidays in Bali. It was the sort of exchange you have when you are in love and you know you have nothing to worry about.
We were standing on a hillside admiring the green rice terraces and some local girl had given me a flirty look. Claire had punched me when I’d waved back.
“If you ever decide to have an affair, David, just don’t tell me about it, OK?”
“OK,” I replied hugging her, “and if you ever have one don’t tell me either.”
“Deal,” she said and kissed me.
“Oh, yuck,” grimaced our daughter. “You two should get a room.”
“We have one, sweetheart. And what is more we’ll be making full use of it when we get back to our hotel.”
“Too much information, Dad. Way, way too much. You know, I will have to have therapy for this later. It’s not natural having parents this lovey-dovey.”
“Oh, shut up, Katie,” laughed Claire. “Now, let’s have a family photograph.”
Of course we don’t really know anything for certain, do we?
Do we?
I don’t know what it was that made me look through Claire’s handbag that evening. Maybe it was that second phone call, although that seems a rather lame explanation. There was no logic for why I should give credence to the words of some malice-inspired coward who disguises his voice; for why I should mistrust my partner of twenty years.
But I did.
And let’s face it, when it comes to matters of trust, logic has no part to play. We are at the mercy of our rawest emotions. Some creature
“How are you, Mark?”
He made a wry face and indicated the room with his chopsticks. “As you can see, I’m doing OK.”
“Are you working?”
“What do you think?”
“Harry told me you and Janine are no longer together. He was concerned about you.”
“Then why are you here and not him?”
“I’m here because I can offer you a job and Harry can’t,” I replied.
He leaned back in the chair.
“Yes, Janine and I have split up. Women, eh? Can’t live with ‘ em and can’t kill ‘em.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.” He recommenced eating.
“We need someone at the Northampton showroom. I thought of you. It could be a bit of a new start for you.”
“ Northampton? ” he said, dripping sarcasm. “Ah, the Venice of the Midlands. Culture, nightlife and all the tedium you can stomach.”
“It’s got to be better than this .”
“And what makes you think I’d want to work for you, David? You’re the one who sacked me in the first place. Without you I wouldn’t be here.”
“I’m not the one who broke up your marriage, Mark,” I said. “ That’s why you’re here. Pull yourself together, and stop this self-destructive behaviour.”
“Well, pardon me, Mister Braddock, if we can’t all have perfect marriages like yours. Although I doubt yours is exactly perfect.”
“What do you mean by that?”
He dropped his eyes and put more food into his mouth. “Nothing,” he mumbled.
I stood up and put one of my business cards on the mantelpiece.
“Call me when you’re in a more receptive frame of mind, Mark.”
“That might be some time,” he responded. “Let yourself out, would you? I’d like to watch the end of the news.”
My cell phone rang and I answered it without checking the caller.
“David Braddock.”
“Hello, David,” said a robotic voice. “Have you checked on Claire yet? You should, you know.”
“I’m sorry, you must have the wrong number.”
I switched the phone off.
“Who was that?” asked Claire, setting the dinner table.
“Another wrong number. I keep getting them. Damn phone company.”
Without question, I should have just told Claire I’d been getting malicious calls. Then perhaps the whole thing would have been over. We could have had a laugh about it and put it to bed. But something held me back. I think it was a conversation we’d had a few years ago when we were on one of our regular holidays in Bali. It was the sort of exchange you have when you are in love and you know you have nothing to worry about.
We were standing on a hillside admiring the green rice terraces and some local girl had given me a flirty look. Claire had punched me when I’d waved back.
“If you ever decide to have an affair, David, just don’t tell me about it, OK?”
“OK,” I replied hugging her, “and if you ever have one don’t tell me either.”
“Deal,” she said and kissed me.
“Oh, yuck,” grimaced our daughter. “You two should get a room.”
“We have one, sweetheart. And what is more we’ll be making full use of it when we get back to our hotel.”
“Too much information, Dad. Way, way too much. You know, I will have to have therapy for this later. It’s not natural having parents this lovey-dovey.”
“Oh, shut up, Katie,” laughed Claire. “Now, let’s have a family photograph.”
Of course we don’t really know anything for certain, do we?
Do we?
I don’t know what it was that made me look through Claire’s handbag that evening. Maybe it was that second phone call, although that seems a rather lame explanation. There was no logic for why I should give credence to the words of some malice-inspired coward who disguises his voice; for why I should mistrust my partner of twenty years.
But I did.
And let’s face it, when it comes to matters of trust, logic has no part to play. We are at the mercy of our rawest emotions. Some creature
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