Frieda Klein 2 - Tuesday's Gone by Nicci French Read Free Book Online Page B

pulled it
     shut after her and locked it. She filled the little tin kettle with just enough water
     for one teabag and put it on the stove, turning the knob on and lighting the ring with
     one match. But she could tell that they were running out of gas: the flame was weak and
     blue. Soon she wouldn’t be able to cook the potatoes that were in the basket under
     the outside seat, or fill a hot-water bottle to take the edge off the cold that seemed
     to enter her bones. Perhaps he would bring another canister when he came. And surely he
     would come soon. She had faith.

Seven
    ‘You’re joking.’ Reuben
     sat back in his chair, looking delighted.
    Frieda scowled. ‘I’m just going
     to spend a few minutes with her.’
    ‘It’s the thin end of the
     wedge.’
    ‘I don’t think so. Karlsson said
     he wanted me to see if I could make sense of what she was saying.’
    ‘You told me you were never going to
     get involved with police work again, under any circumstances.’
    ‘I know. And I’m not going to.
     Don’t look at me like that.’
    ‘Like what?’
    ‘As if you know me better than I know
     myself. It’s irritating. I hope you don’t look at your patients like
     that.’
    ‘I know you’re
     intrigued.’
    Frieda was about to protest, but stopped
     herself because, of course, Reuben was right. ‘Perhaps I should just have said
     no,’ she said slowly. ‘I thought I was going to, and then I heard myself
     agreeing.’
    They were sitting in Reuben’s office
     at the clinic, where Frieda worked part-time and on whose board she sat. The Warehouse
     had been Reuben’s creation and had made him famous as a therapist. Frieda still
     hadn’t got used to the changed appearance of his room. For years – ever since she
     had known him when he was her mentor and she a young student – Reuben had worked in
     chaos, papers strewn everywhere, piles of books collapsing around his chair, ashtrays
     and plant pots overflowing with half-smoked cigarettes. Now everything was in a state of
     determined order: there was anin-tray with a few papers in it, the
     books were on their shelves, there wasn’t a cigarette stub in sight. And Reuben
     himself had changed as well. Gone was the look of an ageing rock star. Now he was
     wearing a plain navy suit over a white shirt, his face was shaved, his greying hair was
     no longer down to his collar. He looked trim: a few months ago he had shocked everyone
     by joining a gym. Worse still, he went there every morning before work. Frieda had
     noticed that his suit trousers had to be held up with a belt. What was more, he ate
     green salads at lunch and carried a bottle of water around with him from which every so
     often he would ostentatiously drink. She couldn’t help feeling he was playing a
     part and that he was pleased with the impression he was creating.
    ‘There’s another thing,’
     she said.
    ‘Go on.’
    ‘I had a strange idea – no, to call it
     an idea is to make it sound more definite than it actually was. A sensation, perhaps.
     When Carrie told me how Alan had changed, and then disappeared out of her
     life.’
    ‘And?’ Reuben spoke after a long
     pause.
    Frieda frowned. ‘It was as though
     I’d walked into a shadow. You know, when you’re suddenly cold, even on a hot
     day. It’s probably nothing. Forget I said anything. When’s Josef
     back?’
    Josef was their friend, a builder from
     Ukraine who had quite literally fallen into Frieda’s life just over a year ago
     when he had crashed through the ceiling into her consulting room. He had ended up living
     with Reuben, when Reuben was going though what he now called, rather proudly, his
     depressive breakdown. Josef had become the tenant who paid no rent but mended the boiler
     and fitted a new kitchen, made endless pots of tea and poured shots of vodka whenever
     there was a crisis. He had never left, until a few weeks ago,when he
     had returned to his homeland to see his wife and children for