Read Online Dissonance by Stephen Orr - Free Book Online

‘You could roll it, and we wouldn’t be protected.’
    She looked at him. ‘Someone’s got the shits.’
    â€˜Trucks have a high centre of gravity.’
    She almost laughed. ‘What do you know about physics?’
    He folded his arms and just stared at her without saying a word.
    â€˜You told Mr Carter we’d pay him?’ she asked.
    â€˜It doesn’t matter.’
    â€˜It does.’
    â€˜Y’ oughta see the photo of his place.’
    â€˜I don’t care!’
    She could handle having a local reputation as a stingy old misery guts who’d driven her husband away, but when it came to music, to the Elder Conservatorium, to a world of hard-working no-nonsense Protestants (all of whom knew someone who knew someone who could make your life difficult; whose kids all went to one of four schools; who had strings of letters after their names, summer homes in the Hills and grand pianos that had been played by Rachmaninov), she didn’t want any sort of reputation.
    They drove on silently. Erwin started to grind his teeth and Madge could hear it above the engine. ‘Stop it,’ she said.
    â€˜I can’t help it.’
    â€˜You can. Dentists cost money.’
    â€˜So what? Everything costs money – money, money, money.’
    â€˜Which we haven’t got.’
    â€˜Why?’
    She looked at him sternly. ‘You know why.’
    â€˜I could leave school and get a job.’
    â€˜Over my dead body.’
    â€˜It makes sense.’
    â€˜And where would you be in five years’ time?’
    He didn’t reply.
    â€˜God’s Hill Road,’ she whispered. ‘The same little dump.’
    â€˜It’s not a dump. Dad worked hard – ’
    â€˜We could have a flat in London.’
    â€˜I don’t want a flat in London. I want …’ He trailed off.
    â€˜You’re too young to know what you want,’ Madge explained, slowing for an intersection.
    â€˜I’m fifteen.’
    â€˜A child. You have to trust me.’
    â€˜Dad would’ve let me decide.’
    She stopped, depressed the clutch and fought with the gears. ‘Exactly, that’s why you’re better off – ’
    â€˜Stop it.’
    He looked at her and decided. He took a wad of letters, done up with a piece of twine, and dumped them onto the dashboard.
    â€˜What are they?’ Madge asked.
    Erwin took a letter from the wad, opened it and started reading.
    Dear Dad, It’s been weekes and I miss you terrible …
    He read until he got to the end of the letter.
    Yours sincearlee, Declan Hergert.
    Then he looked at her. ‘And you tell me to trust you.’
    Madge bit her bottom lip. A car came up behind them and sounded its horn. She took a deep breath, found the gear and drove off. ‘Where did you get them?’ she asked.
    â€˜In the shed, in a box.’
    â€˜I didn’t know,’ she replied.
    â€˜You did.’
    Silence. Galahs. A heavy thumping from the nearby cement works.
    â€˜I was protecting you from it,’ she tried. ‘Imagine what people would have said.’
    â€˜Do you care?’
    â€˜Of course.’
    â€˜He could’ve been my brother. We could’ve …’
    She pulled to the side of the road and braked hard. Then she turned to him and said, ‘It could’ve ruined everything, and it will … if you let it.’
    He didn’t respond.
    â€˜Is that what you want?’ she asked. ‘Everything I’ve done for you? You want to be a grocer? Go on then, but don’t blame me, later, when you hate your life.’
    He sat thinking. He looked at the letter in his hand, the satchel, the crumpled Chopin sticking out of a corner.
    â€˜We’ll go see him shall we, now?’ she asked.
    Another long, empty silence.
    â€˜It’ll all be down to you.’
    She clenched her teeth.
    â€˜Well?’
    Erwin bowed his