Read Online Darkmans by Nicola Barker - Free Book Online

‘But that’s Kane’s place,’ she grunted, a hint of accusation in her voice.
    ‘Yes.’ Winifred made no apology for it.
    Kelly pulled herself up again, kicking a leg back over (sitting astride the wall now, a hand pushed down on to her skirt to preserve her modesty). ‘So what’s your business with him?’
    ‘With Kane?’
    ‘Yeah,’ Kelly growled.
    ‘I don’t have any. I’m here to see his dad.’
    ‘Ah.’ Kelly was plainly relieved. ‘Well that’s a shame, ’cos Beede ain’t here, either. Neither of them are.’
    ‘Are you sure? ’
    Kelly nodded. “Course I am. That’s actually who I’m waitin’ for.’
    Winifred seemed mildly irritated by this news. ‘But we arranged to meet at twelve,’ she said petulantly, ‘and it’s ten past already. He’s usually very reliable.’
    ‘Yeah,’ Kelly conceded, unhelpfully.
    Winifred frowned and peered down at her watch. ‘ Damn. I’ve got something I really, really needed to give to him,’ she muttered.
    Kelly rolled her eyes at this transparent little charade. ‘So pass it over,’ she volunteered boredly, ‘and I’ll stick it through his box.’
    The woman gave Kelly an appraising look. ‘Could I?’
    ‘Well I’m not gonna nick it or anythin’, if that’s what you’re thinkin’,’ Kelly snapped.
    ‘I know that.’
    Winifred opened her satchel and removed a large, brown envelope from inside it. She passed it up to Kelly. Kelly took it (the removalof a hand from her skirt causing a dramatic flash of her baby-pink g-string) and then placed it, neatly, on to her lap. A car horn sounded. The woman – Winnie – glanced over her shoulder. A boy was hanging out of a car window as it drove past, performing a wanking gesture. Kelly stared fixedly ahead of her.
    Winifred took a few steps back, fastening her satchel again. ‘I really do appreciate this,’ she said, ‘I’m in one hell of a…’
    She flapped her hand.
    Kelly nodded, sternly.
    ‘Bye then,’ Winnie smiled, ‘and thanks.’
    She turned and began to walk.
    ‘ Hey, ’ Kelly suddenly yelled.
    Winifred spun around. ‘What?’
    ‘He never went to Readin’,’ Kelly blurted out, her cheeks reddening, holding the jiffy bag in front of her chest now – like a protective corset – and folding her arms over it.
    Winnie looked confused. ‘ Who didn’t?’
    ‘Paul. He died. Early last year.’
    It took a while for this information to sink in. ‘My God,’ Winifred murmured softly, ‘I had no…’
    She paused again, her mind obviously racing. ‘ Shit. I’m really sorry …’
    She seemed stunned.
    ‘Don’t be.’ Kelly was suddenly full of bravura (her hard eyes brimming with indignant tears). ‘He overdosed. Solvents. Cans. He was addicted for years. That’s why my sister always used to hit him. That’s why he always had those awful fuckin’…’
    she put her hand to her mouth, touched her chin, to illustrate, ‘those spots, around here.’
    Winnie shook her head. ‘No. No , I didn’t mean…’ She paused, plainly in a state of some confusion. ‘I meant…’ she scowled, ‘I meant that I was sorry because we used together,’ she said finally, her own hand suddenly fluttering to her nose, her lips, ‘we started using together, as kids.’
    Kelly’s face dropped.
    Another car horn sounded. And before the woman – Winnie – could say another word, Kelly had stuck the envelope into her mouth, kicked her remaining leg back over the wall, and shoved herself off.

THREE
    He just blocked it all out. It was as simple (or as complicated) as that. Denial – as the Americans were so fond of calling it – was Isidore’s basic coping mechanism (his ‘survival strategy’). That was how he dealt with it. And Beede (for all his cynicism) was sensible enough to just go along with the whole thing; the self-delusion, the subterfuge, the bunk, the bullshit.
    He didn’t want to push or to provoke or to challenge; because – bottom line – it was none of his damn