Alberta Clipper Read Online Free PDF Page A

I don't wonder that.  Not much.”
    “Hmm.  Was it a late one?”
    “Nah.”  Christine stood up and looked around for the bird.  “I was home after twelve.”
    “Really,” Emily’s voice was flat , “ i t sounds wild.”
    “Well, the others were going on to a club, but I wasn't in the humour.  Anyway, I was saving myself for tonight.  I didn't want to be haggard for my blind double date.”
    “It's not a blind double date if you've checked him out online already,” Emily said.  “More like a partially-sighted double date.”
    “Whatever.”
    “Look, it's just a double date.  Nothing to be ashamed of.  And he's really nice.  Otherwise I wouldn't have set this up, now would I?”
    “You only set it up because you feel sorry for your poor best friend who can't get a man,” Christine sighed.  “I'm nearly thirty, and I have no man.  Not even the whiff of a potential husband .  I’ve been reduced to being set up with your boyfriend’s workmates. ”  She sat back in her c hair and looked out across the bay.  “I don't even have a mortgage, never mind a marriage.”
    “Ah now . ” Emily's tone became more serious.  “What would you want one of those for?  And you're not nearly thirty.  You're twenty-eight and three-quarters.  Listen, Chris, tonight is gonna be fun.  That's it.  Full stop.”  There was silence on the line for a moment.  “Have you plans for this afternoon?”
    Christine certainly did have plans, but she had no interest in discussing most of them now.  “I have a hair appointment at four.” 
    “Great.  And do you know what you're wearing tonight?”
    “Sort of.”
    “Lovely.  Well I'll see you in yours at seven.  Okay?”
    “Okay.  Emily?”
    “Yes.”
    “You're very bossy.”
    “I know.”  Emily sighed.  “I can't help it.”
     
    ~
     
    Mark was spending the morning following Jennifer around a garden centre.  Sometime over the past few weeks, they had agreed to tackle their garden, which had become increasingly inhospitable over the past few years.  It was a nice garden.  Not huge, but big enough to have fun in.  When they had first bought the house, they’d had many a gathering there.  Family barbecues when Jennifer’s nieces had run around on the grass and made daisy chains.  Parties for their friends which might have started indoors, but had always ended up with a few drunken ciggies i n the garden, huddled around a tall gas heater which had met its demise on a windy night two years ago now.  He had fond memories of sitting out on the patio with Jennifer late on summer evenings, drinking wine, a blanket over their shoulders to ward off the inevitable Irish breeze.  Neither of them had been much use as gardeners, but he had managed to keep the lawn cut and the hedges and trees that surrounded it trimmed.
    But in the last few years, the garden had become somewhat neglected.  He couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a party.  It made him sad to think of it.  It was partly, he supposed, because he was away a lot with work.  And if they’d had kids, of course, they would have made more of an effort.  If they’d had kids, the garden might have swings in it by now, or a little Wendy house, or whatever you called those clunky plastic houses his friends’ kids had.  Or maybe even mini goal posts.
    “Ow!  Mark.  My ankle.”
    “So rry.”
    “Are you even looking at these?  Have you any preference at all?”
    Mark tried to focus.  It appeared he was surrounded by long, straggly looking plants.  Climbers?  They must be in the cover-the-wall-between-us-and-the-neighbours section.  He regarded the rows of pots which seemed to all be in desperate need of some water.  One of the tags caught his eye.
    “My Mum used to have clematis.” 
    He hoped this remark would suggest that he had been paying attention.  It seemed to work. 
    “Okay.”  She started picking up plastic tags, reading them, dropping them.  One plant,