Widows & Orphans Read Online Free PDF

Isn’t that so, Mr N?’ Craig asked, as usual spurning Duncan’s Christian name.
    ‘I expect that there’s an etymological link, Craig,’ Duncan replied, ‘but there are simpler definitions. If you have so little interest in the artworks, why have you come?’
    ‘Three line whip,’ Craig said. ‘My mum, my dad and my stepdad. All the Weedons have to be here, what with the development plans for the pier.’
    ‘Plus, of course, there’s the totty,’ one of his friends said.
    ‘Totty?’ Duncan asked.
    ‘That’s right,’ Craig said, assuming a donnish air. ‘I expect there’s an etymological link with “tot” meaning “little child”, though I trust that there are no paedo undertones in this common – or street – usage for what, in your day, were known as “chicks” or “floozies”.’
    ‘Thank you, Craig, that was most illuminating.’
    ‘Any time, Mr N.’
    ‘We need to talk, Dad.’ Jamie grabbed his arm.
    ‘Catch you later, Squirt,’ Craig said.
    Duncan winced on behalf of Jamie, who was hypersensitive about his height. ‘Goodbye, Craig,’ he said. ‘See you again.’
    ‘Yeah, whatever.’ Craig turned back to his friends.
    ‘Why must you always do that, Dad?’ Jamie said, dragging him away. ‘Do you enjoy showing me up?’
    ‘What did I do? He’s your stepbrother. I can’t very well ignore him.’
    ‘Why not? Do you think he wants to talk to you? Do you think anyone wants to talk to you?’
    ‘Now you’re showing yourself up,’ Duncan said, as headsturned in their direction. ‘I’m pleased that you get on so well with Craig, but I’m not sure that he’s a good influence.’
    ‘Like I care!’
    ‘And I’m none too keen on the way he talks to you.’
    ‘For fuck’s sake, Dad, you just don’t get it! He’s sixteen; he lets me hang out with him. Isn’t that enough?’
    ‘No, it’s not. You’re worth more than that. And what’s with all the swearing? Is it part of earning his respect?’
    ‘Why are you always picking on me?’
    ‘Perhaps because you never let me close enough to do anything else?’ Duncan replied. ‘Because you’ll discover as you grow older that self-respect is worth more than any other kind,’ he added quickly, trusting that Jamie had failed to detect the pain in his voice.
    ‘Maybe in the Middle Ages. Not now.’
    ‘Look, there’s your mother!’ Duncan said, seeing Linda talking to an attractive, smartly dressed brunette. As he admired the woman’s cream silk blouse, grey tailored jacket and lemon pleated skirt, Linda’s former complaint that he never noticed anything she was wearing flashed across his mind. Chastened, he attempted to rectify the omission, but she kissed his cheek before he had the chance.
    From the corner of his eye he glimpsed Jamie shuffling his feet, betraying his usual unease at seeing his parents together. It was as if, having braced himself for the bitterness of their divorce, he felt threatened by – even resentful of – their residual affection.
    ‘Duncan, meet Ellen Nugent, Rose’s new speech and language therapist. Ellen, this is Duncan Neville, Jamie’s father.’
    ‘Really? Isn’t Derek his father?’
    ‘Stepfather,’ Linda said quickly. Duncan felt sick.
    ‘Of course, I’m sorry. I thought I heard Jamie call him Dad but it must have been Stepdad.’ Ellen laughed nervously. ‘Honestly, you’d think that in my job I’d pay closer attention to what people say!’
    ‘Have you been a speech therapist long?’ Duncan asked, coming to her rescue.
    ‘I graduated in 1995, but I haven’t practised for years. I wanted to go back part-time when my children started school, but my husband wouldn’t let me.’
    ‘Really?’ Duncan said, surprised by her acquiescence. ‘Is he very old-fashioned?’
    ‘No, just controlling. But the operative word is
was
. We split up last year and I wanted – I needed – to work. But with all the cuts, SLT jobs are thin on the ground. Martin Casey, one of