Heart and Soul by Maeve Binchy Read Free Book Online Page A

like ten seconds, but Clara knew it could only have been three at the most. Then he spoke. “How much do you pay her?” His voice was more like a bark.
    “The minimum wage, but now that she has had a week of on-the-job training I would have thought—”
    “Minimum wage!” he snapped and left.
    Ania hugged them both and brought out the chocolate biscuits. After all this goodwill Clara was able to face Alan's text message. He wanted to meet her. He suggested a drink after work, a meal even. She texted him back. He could come to her house, but he must bring no wine. They would talk for an hour, there would be no rows, the girls would not be dragged into it. If he agreed to that, then he could come to the house at seven.
    Her mother rang just then to find out if Clara would come around and help her decide between fabrics for curtains. Clara knew that this would be an unsatisfactory endeavor. Her mother relished indecision. Nothing would be agreed, nothing would be chosen.
    “I can't, Mother. I have to meet Alan,” she said.
    “To get rid of him finally, I hope,” her mother said crisply.
    “Perhaps and perhaps not. We'll see.” Clara was mild.
    “We
have
seen,” her mother snapped. “And we haven't liked what we saw.”
    “Sure, Mother.” Clara hung up wearily.
    Hilary looked at Clara, who worked so hard, and hoped that she had planned a good evening out. But when she inquired, she was surprised at Claras reply.
    “My tiresome ex-husband is coming around to the house to ask, yet again, for a divorce,” Clara said simply.
    “I'm sure you'll say yes and get rid of him,” Hilary said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
    “Why should I make things easy for him?” Clara wondered.
    “Because hanging on to him only makes things worse for you. I must rush. Lord knows what my poor mother will have got up to.” And she was gone.
    Clara's friend Dervla phoned as she was driving home. “He's coming round again this evening,” Clara explained.
    Dervla had never liked Alan, but she was usually reticent. Not this time. She spared no feelings when she heard the news.
    “I have been hearing that he's coming round or that he hasn't come around for twenty-five years. Clara, give him the bloody divorce. Get closure on the thing, for heaven's sake.”
    “Thanks, Dervla.” Clara laughed.
    “Have you thought he might be tiring of the new broad and wants to come back to you?”
    “No. I'm too old and hatchet-faced.”
    “Would you have him if he
did want
that?”
    “That's like talking about white blackbirds,” Clara said. She wasn't going to go down that road.
    At home Clara was relieved to find the house empty. It would make things easier. She had a shower and washed her hair. She had just dried it and put on a fresh pink shirt when she heard him ring at the door. She offered him coffee and poured it out for him. Black, as he always took it.
    “Just a chat, Clara, like old times,” he pleaded.
    “Not like old times. Old times were mainly a screaming match, if you remember.”
    “Well, the very old times, then.” He had a nice smile. She would have to agree to that. He held his head on one side as if he were convincing you to see things his way, which of course she had done for years.
    “What did we talk about in the very old days?”
    “Work, the children, each other.” He found the answers easily.
    “Well, work is the safest. How's yours?”
    “It's all right. It's tiring, of course. Banking has changed. There's just so much more pressure these days. And yours?” He really did sound as if he wanted to know.
    She told him about the Polish girl, Ania, and the new assistant, Hilary Hickey About the two cheerful nurses, the physiotherapist, Lavender, the dietitian, and Tim, the security man. She even told him about the dreaded administrator Frank and Peter Barry the pharmacist. And yes, he did seem interested.
    Suppose he hadn't met this terrible girl Cinta. Could they possibly have had a normal