My Husband's Wife(40)

Now Joe looks at me. His eyes are nervous. I want to reassure him even though I’m scared myself, still spooked by the message under the door. This was not, Tony had told me firmly beforehand, the right time to mention the note to the client.

‘He’s good at his job,’ I whisper to Joe as we leave the room. ‘If anyone can get you off, he will.’

And then I do it.

Reaching into my bag, I take out one of my brother’s sticker albums. I’ve already worked out it will be small enough for Joe to slip into his pocket, although I’ve also told myself that I might not give it to him. Just show him. As he reaches for it, his hand brushes mine. An electric shock passes through me. So violent I can hardly stay standing. What am I doing?

I’ve just crossed that divide which my boss and the officer had warned me about. I have committed an offence. Given a present to a prisoner for the simple reason that he reminds me of my brother. My reasoning is full of flaws. I can no longer comfort my brother. So I will comfort this other man instead. Yet in so doing, I have risked my entire career. My life …

As for that brush of the hand, it was accidental. At least, so I tell myself. Besides, Joe is looking away as though it never happened.

As Tony and I sign out in the office and make our way along the corridors and through the double-locked doors, I am convinced I’m going to be called back. Someone will tap me on the shoulder. I’ll be struck off. The case will be lost.

So why do I now, as we leave the front gates, feel a definite thrill zip through me?

‘Thought that went quite well, considering,’ says Tony Gordon, running his hands through his hair as we finally find ourselves outside in the car park.

I gulp in the fresh air. ‘Me too.’

For the second time in my life, I tell myself, I’m a criminal.





16


Carla


‘Carla! Carla! Come and play! Come and play!’

The little girl bobbing up and down in front of her in the playground had sticking-out teeth with a thick silver band across them, and ears that sprang out on either side of her head as though God had planted them at the wrong angle.

If this had been her old school, thought Carla, this girl would have been heckled and teased mercilessly. But instead, she was one of the most popular in the class! More importantly, she was also really nice to everyone. Including Carla.

When she’d started at the convent, Carla had been so terrified that she could barely put one foot in front of the other. She was the only new girl! Term had started ages ago. Everyone else would know each other. They’d be bound to hate her. But as soon as she’d walked through the gates with the statue of Our Blessed Mary looking down, Carla felt calmer.

No one was spitting. No one was drawing pictures on the walls. No one started to mimic her Italian accent. In fact, the little girl with the brace, whom she’d been seated next to in class, had a daddy who had come from Italy many years ago.

‘My daddy is with the angels,’ Carla had confided.

‘Poor you.’ After that, her new friend made sure she was included at break-time. It was, thought Carla happily, as she joined in the skipping game, as though all her dreams had come true.

Even the nun-teachers were nice, although their cloaks flapped like the witches’ in a book she’d just been reading. The nuns approved of the way Carla knew how to cross herself at the right place in morning assembly. ‘What a lovely voice,’ said one nun with a kind, soft face when she heard Carla sing ‘The Lord Is My Shepherd’ with a little tremor. And when she got stuck with long division, another nun sat down with her and explained exactly what to do.

‘I see,’ gasped Carla. Now it all made sense!

No one told her she was stupid. Or that she was slow.

There were only two problems. ‘We’re even now,’ Larry had whispered when he’d come over last night. ‘I had to ask a lot of favours to get you in there. So no asking for anything else. Do you understand me?’

Did a new school equal a woman in the car who wasn’t Mamma? Carla wasn’t sure. It wasn’t the kind of sum she could ask her new teachers about.

The other problem wasn’t as big, but something had to be done about it. After all, no one had a Charlie at school! Caterpillar cases were now last term’s craze. Instead, everyone had Kitty pencil cases. Soft furry ones in pink with plastic eyes that rolled and real whiskers made of plastic.

No asking for anything else, Larry had said. But she wanted a Kitty! She needed one. Otherwise she’d be Different with a capital ‘D’ all over again.

‘If my daddy was alive, he would buy me one,’ Carla confided in her new friend Maria as they sipped their soup, taking care to tip the bowl away from themselves as instructed. They had a proper dining room at the convent, with wooden tables instead of plastic ones that wobbled. They also had to sit up nicely and wait until everyone was served. You had to eat with your mouth closed instead of open. And instead of dinner, they ate lunch.

Maria leaned forward, the little gold crucifix swaying round her neck, and crossed herself. ‘How long has your daddy been in heaven?’

‘Since I was a baby.’ Carla stole another wistful look at her friend’s Kitty pencil case, which was sitting on her lap. It was even rumoured that Sister Mercy had one too that she kept in her office.

‘He broke a promise, you see,’ she added.