The Punjabi Pappadum by Robert Newton Read Free Book Online

Wednesdays and Thursdays I think it was. I’d call in after a shift just to see her. Can you imagine that? This tough copper at the end of the bar too frightened to say ‘boo’. She did that to people, Nance. She left you speechless. When you’re a detective in the force, you learn to read people. But with Nancy it was different. Mysterious, she was. Sitting at the end of the bar I slowly got to know her. It was exciting, as if she had given me permission to peel away a layer one by one. But she didn’t take any lip either, no sir. Handled herself just fine. And do you know what the funny thing was …?”
    The boys shook their heads.
    â€œNuh.”
    â€œShe chose me … Out of all the blokes in Longwood, she chose me.”
    â€œYou asked her to marry you?” said Dexter.
    â€œSure did.”
    â€œDid you take flowers?”
    â€œThe biggest bunch of roses I could afford.”
    â€œTypical,” said Dexter. “Some blokes have all the luck.”
    Travis rolled his eyes. “Let him finish, Dexter.”
    Ron gripped the mug tightly to stop his hands shaking.
    â€œâ€¦ and six months after we were married, Nance died in a car crash.”
    Gently, Veejay levered the mug from Ron’s grip and poured him more tea.
    His tongue rolled across his top lip and caught a tear.
    â€œThanks,” he croaked.
    In one hit the tea was gone.
    â€œThat’s all we had … six months. A drunk driver ploughed into the car at high speed. They didn’t stand a chance.
    â€œThey?” choked Travis.
    â€œPregnant she was — on her way home from the doctor’s with the good news.”
    Veejay went to say something but nothing would come.
    â€œCompletely lost it I did,” continued Ron. “I couldn’t get out of bed. Stayed there for a week, I reckon. Then I had this idea — a way that I could be close to Nance. Straight to the pub I went. Sat at my stool at the end of the bar, night after night, drinking till I couldn’t drink any more … I’d be dead if I hadn’t stopped.”
    â€œSo that’s why you drink so much tea,” said Dexter.
    â€œYep. That and because it was Nance’s favourite. She reckoned it cured everything from a broken heart to haemorrhoids.”
    Unscrewing the lid, Veejay held the thermos in the air.
    â€œWhite with one, Ron?”
    â€œDon’t mind if I do.”
    Across the road, the last of the customers stood milling about under the streetlight.
    â€œYou might want to check this out, Dexter,” said Veejay.
    â€œCheck what out?”
    â€œRight there, at two o’clock, in the tight jeans and denim jacket?”
    â€œWhere?”
    â€œSorry, make that three o’clock.”
    Stretching forward, Dexter bent over the front seat and braced himself. His head was on the dash now, peering through the front windscreen.
    â€œIndira?”
    â€œWhat’s she doing here?” asked Travis.
    â€œThat’s what I’d like to know,” spat Dexter. “And who’s that she’s holding hands with?”
    On cue, the boy with Indira turned into the streetlight.
    â€œDaryl?”
    â€œWho’s Daryl?” asked Ron, confused.
    â€œDaryl’s Burger Man,” explained Travis.
    â€œOh.”
    â€œLook on the bright side, Dexter,” said Ron. “She seems to be over the jet lag.”
    Shuffling through the Singhs’ back gate, the boys made a beeline for the front door of Veejay’s bungalow. A dim light peeked through a partially drawn curtain just as they’d left it.
    â€œCome on, Dex,” said Travis. “It’s not the end of the world.”
    â€œWhat’s he got that I haven’t got?” spat Dexter.
    â€œAn ability to do cartwheels for one.” Veejay grinned.
    Over and over, the image of Indira and Daryl, hand in hand, flashed through Dexter’s mind. If his world hadn’t ended, it had