The Black Mile Read Online Free PDF Page B

he secretly
enjoyed. Get a good little blaze going before everyone else got up. Get things
started for the day. Tuesday was wash day, so he pulled the electric copper out
from under the draining board and filled it with water through the hose
attached to the tap above the sink. He pushed the plug into the socket. The
filament in the bowl would have the water warmed up nicely by the time Julia
was ready for it.
    o         
o          o
    THE KITCHEN WAS QUICKLY FULL OF STEAM. Julia took a
pair of his longjohns from the bowl in which they had been steeped overnight
and dropped them into the copper. There was no agitator in the tub so she took
a long dolly peg and stirred the water.
    “Where is she?”
    “Eve!” Julia called. “Your
father wants to speak to you before he goes to work.”
    Frank sat at the table, eating
his usual fry-up. He felt bad about the argument. He hadn’t handled it very
well, he knew that. He had been drunk, and he was agitated from the scuffle at
the station. But he remembered Costello’s CRO file and the embers of his temper
kindled again. He hadn’t handled it as well as he might have, but he was right.
    “Eve!”
    Julia took the longjohns from
the copper and transferred them to the washboard in the sink, scrubbing at the
soiled marks. She was thrifty, and collected scraps of hand soap in a large
jar. She scooped out a little of the waxy jelly and rubbed it onto a stubborn
stain. “For goodness sake,” she said, her voice tight. She worked harder and
harder at the stain, taking a pumice stone and grinding it into the fabric.
“What is this? It won’t come out.” She pushed the garment into the sink.
“Bloody thing.”
    Frank looked up. His wife never
cursed. “What’s the matter?”
    “I can’t get the blasted stain
out.”
    “No, something’s on your mind.
Come on.”
    He knew what it was. She looked
out of the window into the back yard, biting her lip. “I don’t know, Frank. I
mean––are you sure? He didn’t seem so bad. He was polite. You met him––very
polite, wasn’t he? And Eve’s so unhappy about it.”
    He replied calmly. “We talked
about this, love.”
    “But she was up crying half the
night, Frank. You heard her.”
    “She’s going to have to get used
to the idea.”
    “But she’s so miserable.
Couldn’t we sort something out? I wasn’t much older when I met you, was I?”
    “That was different.”
    Julia took the longjohns from
the sink and fed them into the mangle. “Was it?” she said, turning the handle.
“My father told me to be careful, too. You were no angel.”
    Frank lined up his knife and
fork on the plate. “That’s as maybe. Being a tearaway is one thing, but he’s a
bad apple. He’s from a bad family and he burgled a house on top of everything
else he’s done that he hasn’t been nicked for. I can’t have someone like that
in the family. Apart from anything else, how do you think it’d reflect on me?”
    “What if he doesn’t give up?”
    “Then I’d deal with him.” Frank
had already considered the prospect: he’d have a word, explain why it was in
his best interests to steer clear of his kin. He’d keep it as civil as he could
but with something like this––when family was involved––well, if he needed more
than a word in his ear he could arrange that, too. He wasn’t beyond fitting him
up––something from the evidence room found in his pockets––and with his record
he’d be looking at a stretch before his feet could touch the ground. That would
be that. End of problem.
    “Eve! Time to get up!”
    There was no sound upstairs.
    “Go and get her, love. I’ve got to go.”
    Julia went up to her room.
    Frank mopped his plate with a hunk of bread. Bit of
grease, that’s what he needed, sort out his bloody hangover.
    “Frank!”
    He dropped the bread.
    “Frank! She’s gone.”
    He raced up the stairs.
    The room was empty and the bed was still made.
    Frank opened the cupboard: Eve’s