Magnificent Joe Read Online Free PDF Page B

over stiles, ride across broken ground; it would be quicker to walk. I move the leaves away with a stick. It’s a child’s bike and the story becomes obvious: nicked from a smaller kid and dumped when it wasn’t funny anymore. I wonder if I could get it out of there and I stretch out further with the stick, but I can’t quite reach it.
    â€˜What are you doing?’
    Words from behind me. I almost lose my balance and plunge into the water, but manage to drop the stick and flap my arms until I can stand up straight. I turn round and it’s Laura, Geoff’s wife, with her ash-blonde hair whipping in the wind.
    â€˜Uh…there’s a bike in the water.’
    â€˜It’s been there for ages.’
    â€˜Oh. Really?’
    â€˜I see it every time I come down here. God knows what else is in there. It’s kids, isn’t it?’ She shrugs and looks at me with her head cocked to one side. I notice that she’s properly dressed – stout shoes, fleece jacket – and quite clearly came out for the specific purpose of ‘taking a walk’.
    â€˜Is Geoff with you?’
    â€˜It’s Saturday morning. He’s on the sofa watching cartoons and nursing his hangover.’
    â€˜Oh. OK. You’re just having a walk?’
    â€˜Yep.’
    â€˜Your usual route?’
    â€˜Well, it’s the closest thing to a beauty spot there is around here. Are you going to interrogate me all morning?’
    â€˜No, sorry. Just surprised to see anyone, that’s all.’ In the distance I hear the faint crack of an air rifle – probably someone after rabbits. ‘Sounds like we’re not the only ones, though.’
    She starts to walk along the path and passes me – closely – as if she expects me to fall into step beside her. Without thinking I do just that and we amble alongside the edge of the pond. It’s not a big body of water, but it’s big enough to take a few minutes to get round, and she’s walking slowly.
    â€˜What’s your excuse, anyway?’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜For being out here. Geoff says you don’t do anything except read and go to the pub.’
    â€˜Yeah, well.’ I look over the water for a few moments. ‘I just felt like being outside for a while. I used to come here when I was little.’
    Another long pause, during which she stops and sits on a stump. She looks up at me, actually fixes me with her gaze. ‘Were you reminiscing?’
    â€˜I try not to.’
    She laughs and her smile is wide and bright. ‘We don’t see much of you.’
    â€˜I don’t think Geoff considers me house-trained.’
    She shifts over and gestures me towards her. ‘Sit down.’ The stump is big enough for two and I am careful to leave space between us, but then she reaches out and touches my arm. ‘It would have been easier for you just to tell him, in the long run I mean.’
    â€˜It wasn’t the right thing to do.’
    â€˜But you didn’t know that then. You didn’t really know me.’
    â€˜I could just tell.’
    â€˜Thank you, anyway.’
    â€˜You don’t need to thank me. You don’t owe me anything.’
    I look into her face. I always thought her eyes were green, but now I can see that they contain flecks of brown. A gust of wind and a few of the last leaves give up and are carried away.
    â€˜I’ll leave you to it, then,’ she says.
    â€˜Yeah.’
    Suddenly, she leans over and kisses me on the forehead – just above my eye, right on my scar – rough and tender at the same time. Then she gets up and walks away, quickly, without another word. Soon she disappears beneath the trees. I feel a vague breath of regret under my sternum; I wonder what it would be like to have someone I could talk to about anything I wanted. Laura is the worst possible choice, though, and anyway, that’s all bollocks: a problem shared is a problem