Something Fishy by Hilary MacLeod Read Free Book Online

his expression doubtful.
    â€œThere’s not everyone will believe that.”
    â€œJust in case, I’m willing to buy your stock.”
    â€œI could have a fortune in that freezer. I’m including a certificate of authen…authen…”
    â€œI assume you mean authenticity.”
    â€œYa, right. Authen…whatever.”
    â€œI’m sure the only thing you can authenticate is that they are fish.”
    â€œFish that mebbe come from outer space. Froze on the way down.”
    â€œHow much?”
    â€œHow much?”
    â€œFor the fish.”
    â€œAll of them?”
    â€œAll of them.”
    Jared didn’t know how many there were, and if he had, couldn’t have done the math. He put a hand to his chin and stroked it.
    â€œIt’s not just the fish. There’s the museum part of it.”
    â€œI’ll buy that, too.”
    â€œLike I said, it’s not started up yet. But the money prospects – there could be provincial and federal grants…”
    â€œFive hundred.” Anton pulled an envelope from his inside pocket.
    Jared was so surprised, he took it.
    â€œKeep the fish. Take down the sign.”
    â€œNow, say I was to run the business out of my house…”
    â€œDo whatever you want at your house. Much better location. Lots of drive-by traffic.”
    Anton waited while Jared took the signs down and tossed them in the back of his pick-up. The fish could wait, until he got started up again at home.
    He never did.
    Within days, Jared stopped fueling the generator, and the freezer full of red herrings rotted away.

Chapter Six
    The villagers watched from the cape, from pulled-up blinds and half-open curtains in back windows, as Fiona installed her trailer.
    Eyes like slits, Anton Paradis watched her drag the trailer onto the spot where Jim’s house had been. Right in his view. Too close to his planned helipad, but he knew she was within her rights, within her property lines. It was he who was encroaching.
    Gus watched from her back window as the truck eased the new shorefront home into place, over the rectangular scar of red clay left by the removal of Jim’s house. Gus had approved of the house. It was of fairly recent vintage, well-maintained and a neutral beige colour, although white might have been better – brighter, like her own. It was hard work for Abel, she knew, keeping the house painted a sparkling white, with red dust and clay constantly blowing on it. It kept him out of the house a lot.
    But the trailer – it was old. As old as she was. Joints aching, she sat down. Maybe not as old, but a good fifty years anyway, which was a lot for a trailer.
    Small. Misshapen. Banged-up. Colour faded to a flat sea green.
    Happy with her positioning, Fiona had jumped out of her SUV, newly bought with the proceeds of Jim’s savings account, and, without bothering to unhitch the trailer, she opened the door, pulled down and mounted the steps, and minutes later came out with arms full of giant tulips.
    She began poking them in the red clay along the front of the trailer.
    Gus stood up.
    Plastic tulips. Plastic tulips in bright reds and yellows and greens with faces – bug eyes and wide white smiles. When Fiona had finished planting the tulip people in one long line across the front, she jiggled back to the trailer, wind blowing her flowered dress into a balloon around her. Fiona always wore light, billowing dresses. They were meant to hide the folds of fat. It settled on them instead. Only her hands and feet were small – arms and legs tapered almost to a point, and Fiona’s tiny feet looked unable to support her.
    She emerged again with more plastic flowers – pansies this time, with big eyes, velvet eyelashes, and Botox lips. She planted them in front of the tulips.
    â€œAt least she’s got her seasons and her placement right.”
    Gus turned sharply at the disembodied voice.
    Hy peeked around the door, a