Read Online The Miracle Inspector by Helen Smith - Free Book Online Page B

upset. He had his hands in the soapy water in the sink but there was no use pretending. At least now she knew he was crying, he wouldn’t have to do the washing up.
    He dried his hands on a tea towel. They went and sat down at the kitchen table. He could smell the pie in the oven. A fish pie with a mashed potato topping. She had made it just for him. He was a lucky man and yet he was crying over this disabled child or because he couldn’t have one of his own, disabled or not. Or because it had been such a long time since he had heard Angela sing.
    ‘We have to get out of here,’ she said.
    ‘I know.’
    ‘No, you don’t know. Something happened.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘A man came here today. He said he knew you.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘He said his name was Jones. Lucas, are you alright? Do you know him?’
    ‘What did he say?’
    ‘He had a knobbly face. An ugly man, quite friendly. Lucas?’
    ‘What did he say?’
    ‘Just that he knew you. Well, it was quite strange, really.’
    ‘What did he want? Did you let him in the house?’
    ‘No, of course I didn’t.’
    He was up on his feet now, preparing himself for what she might say. He was so angry and frightened and murderous – that fiend, Jones, here with his wife – that his head was buzzing. A million wasps with chainsaws, inside his head. His fists were clenched. His face was red, that rosy flush on the skin that he had so wished to see on Jones’s wife. Spit had collected at the corners of his mouth. His breathing was altered.
    ‘Lucas, what is it?’
    ‘What did he do to you?’
    ‘Nothing.’
    ‘What did he say?’
    ‘Lucas, sit down. You’re going mad. What’s the matter? He just came by, he said he knew you. Said they were looking in on all the wives, just checking to see if they were OK.’
    ‘And did he… did he make any lewd suggestions to you?’
    She stifled a giggle. She could see that he was angry. But what he was saying was funny to her.
    ‘Did he try to touch you? Angela? It’s important.’
    ‘I’m not a child, Lucas.’
    ‘Would you tell me?’
    ‘Lucas, what’s the matter with you? He came to see if I was OK. He said they were worried about the security of the wives. He told me to call him if I couldn’t get hold of you while you were away.’
    ‘He gave you his phone number?’
    ‘He gave me his business card.’
    ‘Let me see.’
    She went to the kitchen drawer, the one with the napkins and the tea towels. They kept a few take-away menus, flyers from people offering their services as gardeners, decorators, handymen. You needed them these days as it was so difficult for women to go out and shop, even for food. There was no question of a woman going to a hardware store; she might as well hang a red light over the door for all the opprobrium she’d be likely to suffer in the community.
    Angela looked in the drawer for a few moments, moved the things around in there. Was she just pretending it wasn’t readily to hand? She took out the business card. She handed it over.
    Jonathan Jones, it said. Head of Security.
    ‘Did he talk about his wife?’
    ‘Well, no. He said he was worried about her. That’s all.’
    ‘Did he tell you her name?’
    ‘He said, “We’re worried about the wives. I’m a married man myself.” That kind of thing.’
    ‘I’m sorry.’
    ‘Why are you so angry? What’s he done?’
    ‘No, you don’t understand.’
    ‘Well tell me, then.’
    ‘He films his wife and broadcasts it in the office.’
    ‘Oh God.’
    ‘I’ve seen her soaping her tits in the shower, Angela. I’ve seen the hairs on her–’
    ‘Don’t be… Honestly, Lucas. Don’t.’
    ‘What, don’t say cunt?’
    ‘No. There’s no need.’
    ‘He’s a cunt. I’ve seen his wife’s cunt. I don’t want him looking at yours.’
    He stormed upstairs. So that she wouldn’t see him in such a state, as much as anything else.
    ‘Lucas?’ she called up after him, the flour on her nose, the pie in the oven – the