Read Online Anybody But Him by Claire Baxter - Free Book Online Page A

she’d hit her teens and become ashamed of her family.
    Did her dad still use any of the stuff in his shed? Or had he lost the skills required to fix things along with his driving ability? It certainly didn’t look like he’d disturbed any of his tools in a long time.
    â€˜See?’
    Startled, she dragged her mind back to the present and her dad’s car. ‘See what?’
    He was sitting in the driving seat. ‘Now that I’ve reconnected the battery the lights have started flashing again in here, see? The whole wiring system’s gone bonkers.’
    She ducked her head into the car. ‘What? Do you mean the hazards?’
    â€˜Hmm?’ He gave her a blank look.
    â€˜Did you switch the hazard lights on?’
    He shook his head. ‘Never touched ’em. What are they when they’re at home?’
    Saving her breath, she straightened and looked at the front of the car. Sure enough the hazard lights were flashing. She reached into the car, past her dad, and pushed the big button on the dashboard with the triangle symbol. The lights stopped flashing.
    â€˜Well, I’ll be—’ Her dad scratched his head with the screwdriver that was still in his hand. ‘How did you do that?’
    â€˜All I did was switch off the hazard lights, Dad.’
    He stuck out his chin. ‘But who put them on?’
    â€˜You must have done.’
    â€˜I told you I didn’t. I’ve never had that happen before in the whole time I’ve beendriving.’
    That couldn’t be true. He must have forgotten about hazard lights And yet he knew enough about the car’s electronics to connect the battery. His memory was like a piece of Swiss cheese – random holes appearing with no pattern to them. Weird.
    â€˜Maybe you knocked the switch without realising?’
    â€˜I’m not stupid. I would have noticed if I’d knocked it.’
    â€˜Well anyway, I think you’d better phone the mechanic and tell him not to bother coming out. Say you’ve fixed the problem yourself.’
    He grunted. ‘You call him for me, will you? On that mobile thin gummy you like so much.’
    Her father had never trusted mobile phones and still refused to have one. Her mother did at least own one; she just forgot to take it with her when she went out. It spent its life in the kitchen drawer, more of a static than a mobile.
    â€˜Is there something wrong with the house phone?’
    â€˜Yes, there blooming well is. It’s inside the house.’
    She emerged from the garage, blinking at the sudden brightness. She took out her mobile and keyed in Gary’s number as she approached the house. When she stepped up onto the porch she heard her mother belting out an Irish ballad, a sure sign that she was mad at her husband for something. At least it wasn’t ‘Danny Boy’. She saved that for the worst offences.
    Nicola looked at her dad. ‘What have you done to upset her?’
    â€˜Nothing.’ His response was too quick.
    â€˜Dad, you know she’s going to tell me as soon as I go in. You might as well give me your side first.’
    With a shrug, he said, ‘I don’t know why she’s making such a fuss about it. I only told her I was going to get a wig.’
    â€˜A wig? For you?’
    â€˜Well, of course it’s for me. Who else would you think I’d be getting it for, the budgie?’
    Her dad had become a cross-dresser now? Really, she shouldn’t be surprised. Mortified, yes, but not surprised. ‘What … what colour? Is it blonde?’
    â€˜Blonde?’ He blinked at her. ‘Of course not. It’s the same colour as the rest of my hair.’
    â€˜Oh! You mean a toupee ?’
    â€˜What did you think I was talking about?’
    â€˜Nothing,’ she said, shaking her head. Well, that was a relief anyway. Gary answered his phone, and she passed on the news that he was no longer needed. She was