Divorcing Jack by Colin Bateman Read Free Book Online

me.'
    'Okay. Oh - Dan? Did you sleep with her?'
    Sneaky. Suspicious. Tread softly.
    'Don't be ridiculous. I hardly knew her.'
    'Well, where did you stay all night?'
    'I tramped the streets for a while until the blood stopped.' Easy, go easy. 'Then I went round to wait for Mouse to come home. You know I did. I always do when we have a fight.'
    There was another pause. She said quietly, 'I'll see you.'
    'Bye, love,' I said and put the phone down.
    I should have left it at walking the streets. Always the tendency to say too much. Glancing up, I saw McDowell had his back to me out at the stone, so I tapped in another number.
    Mouse answered. He said: 'YES?'
    'Hi, Mouse. It's me.'
    ‘AH, MR POPULARITY.'
    'Very funny.'
    'I'M SERIOUS. WE HAD TO RESTRAIN PATRICIA FROM TAKING A CARVING KNIFE TO YOU.'
    'Yeah, well, these things happen.'
    'NOT TO ME THEY DON'T.'
    Mouse never argued with his wife. I wouldn't argue with her either. She wasn't large or particularly overbearing, but she had a presence that was unnerving, a mental strength that enabled her to beat me at arm wrestling despite lacking any discernible muscles.
    'Listen,' I said, 'I need you to do me a favour. If Patricia calls can you tell her I stayed in your place last night? It's important.'
    'LOVE TO HELP, DAN. PATRICIA CALLED FIRST THING THIS MORNING, LOOKING FOR YOU. UNFORTUNATELY MANDY GOT TO THE PHONE BEFORE ME AND TOLD HER SHE HADN'T SEEN YOU. I WOULD, OF COURSE, HAVE HAD THE PRESENCE OF MIND TO SAY THAT YOU'D BEEN AND GONE. BUT I DIDN'T HAVE THE CHANCE.'
    'Shit,' I said.
    'SORRY,' Mouse said, and added: 'DAN, NO HARM TO YOU, LIKE, BUT YOU SHOULDN'T MESS AROUND WITH WEE DOLLS. IT'S DANGEROUS.'
    'Thanks, Mouse,' I said, 'I'll bear that in mind,' and put the phone down.
    I'd have to think about this one.
    Out on the stone things were progressing more quickly than normal, but I knew it wouldn't be long until some unfortunate occurrence pushed things into overtime. It happened every week without fail. The workers liked their overtime pay and didn't appreciate the benefits of getting the paper out earlier and improving circulation. Too long term. Within the next hour or so somebody would accidentally overload a computer, wipe out a disk or cause a power failure. The management knew all about it but couldn't do anything. It had always been like that.
    The front page lead was fairly tame. A chapel had been burnt in the north of the city, not far from Margaret's home off the Antrim Road.
    As I stood by the front page I said to Miller, who was pasting the story in, 'So they've burnt another one.' It paid to keep in with the workers. There was a photograph beside it with the charred building in the background and a priest carrying several planks of wood in front of it. There was no caption on it. I said: 'What's he up to?'
    Miller said: 'He's building a temporary one.'
    'Good idea,' I said, nodding sagely.
    'They're all temporary,' said Miller, turning narrowed eyes from the page to me.
    'Right on,' I said and moved. We still had to do some work on the bigot front.
    From the front page. Miller shouted up the stone, 'Paul, I need a wee piece of single column.'
    Behind me a voice replied, 'I bet that's what your wife says too.'
    'At least mine speaks to me,' Miller replied and laughter rumbled over the assembled workforce.
     
    After work I bought a carry-out and went home. I sat in front of the box and watched a late-night film. Sylvester Stallone was in it. My old da always referred to him as Victor Stallion. For that matter he always called boxer George Foreman, George Formby. And once accused javelin thrower Tessa Sanderson of throwing a harpoon. And then I thought about Patricia again and how much I was missing her and how I'd dug my own grave over the phone.
    Was all this wondering about her life just a reaction to me kissing someone, or had she been thinking this for a long time? I'd thought we were okay. Sure, things could be better. Every marriage could be better. She'd