Nomance, T Price [bookreader .TXT] 📗

these days. They’re alltaking them, pregnant or not. I dread to think what horrors pop outin maternity clinics. Things that make club feet look like buckteeth, I imagine.’

‘You’re telling it theway it is, Shell,’ Carla declared. ‘And yet, between you and me, acouple of club feet would be a godsend,’ she rubbed her belly. ‘Hislittle kicks are really sharp.’

‘My dear,’ Shelly saidwith a smile, ‘the kicks are nothing. You wait for the birth.’

‘Well of course that’swhen a little pointy head comes into its own.’

‘You may well be lucky,Carla, you may well be lucky.’

‘Have you ever heard oflittle pointy heads?’

‘Dear, nowadays littlepointy heads are the only staff I can get.’

This was the momentthat Gwynne and his crew lumbered in through the shop door.

Carla was set to stepfrom behind the counter and save Shelly, who looked tiny comparedto the gangly, loose-limbed youths. However, Shelly showed no fear.She smiled at Carla with a twinkle in her eye, ‘And talk of thedevil.’

‘Carla, the back door’sbolted,’ Gwynne complained, leading the rest of the crew throughthe counter door and into the house behind.

Carla was too affrontedto answer. She could only glare.

Gwynne was followed bya tall, dark-haired girl with a tough swagger. She gave Carla aquick on/off smile as she slipped by. Behind her was a lanky,dangerous looking lad whose simian features blazed with silenthilarity. After that . . . but it was too awful. As the lastspecimen vanished into the hallway that led into the house,chimpanzeeing as he went. Carla opened her eyes to check thatShelly was still alive.

‘My word, are youhaving a party?’ Shelly exclaimed, seemingly unaware of Carla’sdistress. If anything, the crowd of thugs appeared to have thrilledher. ‘Or should I say – a rave?’

‘That was my brotherand his friends.’

‘Oh, the one you’regoing to do a really good funeral for?’

‘If all goes well.’

‘Lets hope. But thistalk of raves had reminded me why I’ve dropped by, dear. I thinksome daffs to brighten the dining room. We’re throwing a dinnerparty next Friday.’

‘Lovely.’ Clara gaveher a bright smile. Well, she reflected, a dinner party’sno funeral – but it’s better than nothing.

Once Shelly haddeparted, with a promise to visit again soon (oh, these old croneswere so sweet! It was more than some of her younger customers coulddo to mumble ta ta), Carla stalked back into the house and foundthe pack of jackanapes debouched in the kitchen.

‘This is Charmaine,’Gwynne declared with that unmistakable proprietorial air whichindicated to Carla that he had found some idiot to call agirlfriend. They shook hands. Charmaine’s eyes never left Carla’sgravid stomach.

‘Pleased to meet you,’she said in a neutral tone.

Gwynne ran through therest by name and they yipped their indecipherable greetings againsta background noise of suppressed snickering – none of it quitesuppressed enough. And how tall they all were! The most disturbingof these lofty clowns was Jake, with little round eyes and a fixedexpression of ape-like hilarity.

Carla unbolted the backdoor with as much significance as she could muster. ‘I forgot totell Kitty not to bolt the back door.’ As well as having to repeatto the girl every day what she must do, one also had to tell herwhat not to do. Still, despite the inconvenience, she could notbring herself to condemn Kitty for being a moron. The benefits werejust too numerous.

‘Okay, when we go,we’ll go out the back,’ Gwynne said.

Carla slunk off back tothe shop.

This afternoon turnedout to be one of those afternoons when not a single soul drifted in– not even to browse. Once in a while, her customers would gang uplike this to demonstrate that they didn’t need her. Even the streetoutside seemed deserted.

The last three hourspassed in a torment of loneliness and Carla closed the shop withpiercing sense of failure. Once again, Romance had proveditself to be the ultimate dead end, and once again the realised heronly hope was to sell up and get into a different line of business.With any luck in a different city.

She went into the houseand got a nasty surprise. Gwynne and his crowd were still in thekitchen. They were spread out, relaxed and engaged in conversation.The repartee crisscrossed the room like a rubber ball, one thatkept whizzing just past the back of her head.

‘Could you go into theliving room so I can get my tea?’ She snapped, expending the lastof her self confidence. Running Romance was a severe drainon one’s self confidence at the best of times, and today had beenmore demanding than usual.

Charmaine scowled,‘Yeah, we’re in the way, Gwynne,’ she scolded. ‘Why don’t youthink?’

Gwynne thought, albeitreluctantly. ‘Um, lets go in the front then.’

This was a short-termsolution, of course. Carla now could cook her evening meal inpeace, but she could not go into the living room to eat it withoutbeing made to feel even more isolated and useless than she did inher shop.

She plodded up to herbedroom and turned her radio on. But this didn’t help. Every littlenoise that Gwynne’s gang made downstairs, not to say every bignoise, found its way up to her and her nerves. Possessing earsturned into a physical liability.

When the yobbos troopedout, an hour or so later, she exclaimed with relief. Then, after adignified interval – twenty seconds – she left her room with theintention of taking a no nonsense stand with Gwynne on the matterof this gross intrusion into her privacy. Being pregnant would addmuch weight to her argument. For a start, she could tell him thathis gang of hooligans had almost given her a miscarriage. Didn’t herealise she would never balance the shop’s books next year unlessshe went the full term?

This stinging questionwas not going to be answered as soon as she might have wished.

Gwynne had left withhis new friends and the house was empty.

And that’s how itstayed as the evening turned to night. The silence becameoppressive. Carla discovered the peace and quiet of the house wasonly agreeable to her when she shared her solitude with Gwynne.

Her heart grew more andmore heavy, like that old sorry blanket on the washing line,suspended now in a persistent drizzle.

She decided to turn inearly for the lack of anything else to do. Once she had