Read Online Something Fishy by Hilary MacLeod - Free Book Online Page A

the sight of her huffing across the cape, carrying a tray of fudge on her way to the dome.
    â€œBatteries. He’ll have batteries in there, ringed right around the dome, I’ll bet, on the track Big Ed used for his wheelchair. He’ll be taking the power from that wind turbine for his house and generating more to sell back to the electric company.”
    â€œSnowball effect.”
    â€œSomething like that.”
    A shot of late-day sunshine lit up Hy’s copper curls. Snowball effect, thought Ian. It didn’t seem to work with the two of them. They’d just get going, and something would stop it. Start it again. Stop it. Like at Christmas.
    He reached out a hand to touch a stray curl.
    She jumped up.
    â€œShe’s in! He let her in!”
    Ian wasn’t interested in Fiona anymore. He was wondering if Hy would ever be more than a friend. Once or twice, she had been. He wanted more than a friend, but he didn’t know how to tell her. Or how she’d react.
    They were single neighbours in a secluded village, so perhaps it was bound to happen.
    Newton and Fiona. The odd couple.
    For the first time since his lost marriage to Mary, Newton enjoyed carnal knowledge of a woman. No, he hadn’t truly enjoyed it, and it wasn’t exactly carnal.
    He had smothered himself in Fiona, lost parts of himself in her folds and had never been purely happier.
    Her breasts thrusting up from her tight V-neck top, so her breasts were squeezed up to her chin. Rolls of flesh appeared below the bottom of the T-shirt, squeezed by a belt hanging with difficulty onto her hip-hugging jeans. There were rolls around her thighs that may have been displaced hip flesh. Her calves were as big as thighs, her ankles so swollen they nearly hid her tiny feet.
    She reminded him of the comic book character from the 1950s, Little Lotta, whose fat arms and legs tapered off into a “V” shape. Only Lotta had been a blonde, Newton remembered, and Fiona had black hair. Far too black, nature given a boost.
    He’d found his way through her abundance, she squealing like a piglet as they performed a pathetic coupling, satisfying their minds, not their bodies.
    Even that didn’t last long. Both were soon in tears, after Newton zipped up and Fiona stumbled home. He hadn’t been able to do it. And Fiona hadn’t felt a thing. She never did. Not that she had the opportunity very often.
    She was glad to be wanted at all. It pained her that she accepted so little.
    Viola came early, too soon for Anton. He’d hoped to clear Fiona’s trailer out of the way before she arrived. As he expected, it was the first arrow she launched after she had removed her white gloves. She wore them summer, fall, winter, and spring, no matter the climate.
    She should keep them on, thought Anton, observing the number and size of age spots on hands as small and spare as a bird’s claws.
    â€œThat will have to go.” She didn’t bother to look at or gesture towards Fiona’s trailer. It was obvious. She burrowed in her purse and pulled out a cigarette case and a long, elegant ebony and silver holder. She put the cigarette in place and pressed the holder between her thin, bloodless lips.
    â€œI know.” Anton picked up the antique silver lighter from the coffee table, snapped it on and lit the cigarette. She took a deep drag.
    â€œI’ve been trying, but I haven’t been successful so far.”
    Viola thought of herself as a tree hugger. She gave generously to environmental and wildlife causes, but didn’t hesitate to pollute other people’s environments and homes. She smoked everywhere she went, never asking permission.
    â€œTrying is not…” She puffed a huge cloud of smoke out of her mouth and it floated up towards Anton. He dodged it, stopping short of fanning it away. That would have infuriated her.
    Outside, the limousine driver who’d brought her from the airport in Charlottetown