Doctor Who: Drift by Simon A. Forward Read Free Book Online Page A

centre line. Anyway she‟d have to stick up for Amber. The kid was ten hard years old. Mak had to tread slow and careful, something you‟d think he was born to -
    when it came to anything but Amber. His main failing, he just didn‟t have the know-how to understand Amber and make her feel understood. But if it was his failing, then it was Martha‟s too.
    School was out, so family needn‟t wait. Martha figured she should try. If Mak wasn‟t driving off packs of hungry coy-dogs, as he called them, he was probably mulling over a second cup of coffee with Laurie Aldrich. She could take a drive down and meet him for lunch, take the time to talk him through Amber properly.
    Truth was, she was no expert either, and Martha had to shut down on a few tears then, the thought of those days she couldn‟t handle her own kid. Along with all the days she could never make up to her.
    So harsh out there. Martha sent out a silent prayer for Amber, out in the midst of it. And she threw in another for Mak for good measure.
    The phone rang.
    Martha wiped away the mood like she‟d been asleep, then dragged herself to the hall. One hand went back through her hair again as she picked up the phone.
    „Yeah?‟
    Martha actually flinched. All the harshness of winter had crept inside her gut.
    It was Curt.
     
     
    „Listen, shut the hell up for a second and listen, will you?‟
    „Whatever it is you got to say, I‟m not interested. Do you hear me? You‟re done calling the shots and you‟re done telling me anything. For someone who loves the sound of his own voice, have you ever stopped to listen to yourself? Not once! So why in hell I ever expected you to listen to me - or your own daughter, for Christ‟s sake-‟
    Curt Redeker was ready to beat the crap out of the phone with the receiver, just to shut her up. But he sensed the clerk watching from the counter. Why‟d he even call her? Why‟d he go to so much trouble to find a phone? What in hell for? Well, he knew the answer to that, and so did Martha. Amber.
    „I‟m not taking this from you, bitch. I‟ve just walked a goddamn marathon through the snow to find a phone, let you know I got here.‟ Christ, he‟d even stopped to wash his face in the snow, clean off the blood and kill the pain with the cold. „I found a call box, it was dead, so I ask the guy at the store if I can use the phone. He looks at me like I‟m-‟
    „Let me know you got here? You were supposed to be here Saturday morning. I told you, two days, the weekend before the holidays - and that was for her, not you. She‟s been wondering where you‟ve been the whole weekend and guess what - I didn‟t have anything to tell her. Same old story and we‟ve all heard it enough, so I tell you what, you can come see her this afternoon, drop off whatever presents you‟re trying to impress her with this time and then you‟re gone.
    Back to whatever hole you‟re living in, out of our lives, you got that, you bastard? Are you hearing me, Curt? Am I getting through to you this time?‟
    Loud and clear. She couldn‟t do this, no way. She couldn‟t keep him from seeing his little girl - and for as long as he damn well pleased. What was she going to do, snatch her own daughter away, tell her Daddy‟s going now? She would.
    He was seeing the world through a haze, much worse than the storm he‟d just fought through. For a while back there, following the lake shore, stumbling blind, he‟d really wondered if he was going to fall and never get up. And now this bitch was making his head spin.
     
    He shot a look over towards the counter. The clerk was making like he was busy, like his counter needed cleaning when he probably hadn‟t had a customer all day. Jerk.
    Damn! The bitch had said something about presents. He could see them now, back in the car, probably buried under half a ton of snow. Damn it to hell! And he could still hear her voice ranting and moaning from the receiver.
    „What? What‟d you say?‟
    „I said be