Putty In Her Hands by R J Butler Read Free Book Online

make it back for Friday’s drink.
     
    What drink?
     
    Friday, after work, the Horse
and Carrot. Loretta invited me. Why, don’t you know about it?
     
    Ah, Loretta – a rake-thin,
red-haired girl of about 22, all elbows and gaucheness, who looks
like Olive Oil from Popeye and about as sexy. Yes, course I
do. I stab my fork into the potato. OK, I don’t. But what do
you mean might make it back?
     
    I’ll have to see how I feel.
I’m a different person in Westminster , Robbie. More
chilled. After a week there I may not want to come back.
     
    I want to ask: but what about
me? Am I alone not worth coming back for? And Friday next seems an
age away, a whole week without a glimpse of Dawn. I can’t imagine
what that will do to me. I manage to sit on my petulance. But it’s
about to get worse…
     
    I should warn you – things may
be different when I get back.
     
    Different?

You know, between you and me.
     
    Dawn, don’t say that; it hurts
when you talk like that.
     
    I’m not saying they will be but
just… just be prepared, that’s all.
     
    She gave me a
lift home. I got out near a bus stop in a leafy street. All was
quiet but it was cold. It took me a long time to finally say
goodbye, get out of her car and close the door. The act of leaving
her was killing me. We kissed as we parted.
     
    Saturday, 15th December
    I woke up, my heart feeling
heavy. As a form of distraction, I took Joshua Christmas shopping
today, and now, thanks to Dawn, I knew exactly what to buy. The
recipients on my list consisted of Emily and… well, that was it – a
present from me and each of the children. Emily would do the rest –
the children, my mother, far-flung siblings and their spouses,
friends, the lot. Sometimes it’s so easy being a man.
     
    The first place we headed for
was TK-Maxx and straight to the first floor and the women’s coats
and jackets section. There, in exactly the place I left it last
night, I found the dark suede jacket with the fur collar that Dawn
had so fetchingly tried on only a few hours earlier. And after a
bit of searching I found another, very similar, a size bigger.
Joshua approved although he’d be the first to admit that as an
arbiter of female fashion his judgement may be less than sound.
     
    Having bought them both, at not
some inconsiderable cost, I suffered an interrogation: Dad, why
did you buy both jackets?
     
    Ah, in case one doesn’t fit.
I’ll bring one back, you see?
     
    And why did you pay for one
with money and the other with your card?
     
    You noticed that? Because I
didn’t have enough cash on me.
     
    Right. He thinks about
this for a moment. Dad, why is that man waving at us?

What man? I followed his gaze, and sure enough there was the
camp man in a Trilby that Dawn and I had met last night. Heck, I
thought, I can’t have him speaking to Joshua and letting some
filthy great big cat out of the bag. Fortunately, he was at some
distance, waving at me like the Queen Mother over the clothes’
racks. What was he doing here again; did he live in the place?
Perhaps he was asking the same question of me. Quickly, Joshua,
let’s go before he speaks to us.
     
    Safely away, we dodged the
Christmas crowds in the shopping precinct but stopped to listen to
a Salvation Army band playing Christmas favourites. I like a bit of
brass occasionally. But then I spied someone coming round with a
donations hat and I decided half a carol was enough.
     
    In Argos we bought a kettle
that claims it can boil from stone cold in three seconds flat
( We’ll say that’s from you, Joshua ) and from a record shop
Blondie’s Greatest Hits ( And that’ll be from Lola. ) And that
was it, Christmas shopping done. Sorted. Only a matter of buying
three cards (from each of us) and a couple rolls of wrapping paper,
and then we could head home.
     
    Dad… He’s going to ask
for something, years of training have attuned my ears to the
tiniest inflection from the first ‘d’. Are you and Mum buying