Nothing On Earth Read Free Page A

standstill to one side, hands in pockets, rocking on his heels. Whenever she asked a question, she made a point of raising her voice to try to include him.
    â€˜When can we expect other neighbours?’
    â€˜We’ve a few nibbles.’
    â€˜Nibbles?’
    â€˜Possible buyers. Young family like yourselves. From the midlands. Any day now.’
    Flood lifted things as he spoke, arranging scraps of iron rod or plastic tubing into neat rows, as if that made any difference. His beard was copper with flecks of white in it. His arms were thick, brown. The hot sun, directly overhead, threw a little black pool in which Flood seemed to stand knee-deep. He kept shading his eyes and peering at her. He kept turning phrases that sounded comical, even when they weren’t meant to be. At one point, crossing the dust track back towards their house, he asked, ‘How long were you over beyond?’
    â€˜Over beyond?’
    Flood nodded sideways, towards the open country on the road away from town, as if the next parish were the continent. ‘In foreign parts.’
    â€˜Ten years,’ she said.
    â€˜That long? The place must be unrecognizable.’ Did Flood regret the last part of what he’d said? He might well have done, from the way he examined the ground between them. ‘Have you been up the town?’
    â€˜Not yet.’
    They stopped at the bottom of the driveway to theirs. Paul backed indoors without a goodbye. She wondered about apologizing, but Flood didn’t seem that bothered.
    â€˜Nothing much to see. Handful of pubs and a filling station with a minimart. There’s a film club in the courthouse one night a month, if you’re interested.’
    Helen laughed, openly this time. It sounded like he was asking her on a date. When she laughed, Flood blushed and tried to laugh as well, and she felt mean.
    â€˜You never know,’ she said.
    Flood laid one hand on the sign that read ‘Show House’. The letters were branded into a lacquered slice of oak. ‘I’ll leave that there for now,’ he said. She hadn’t forgotten that that was part of the deal. She just hadn’t said so to the others. ‘In case people want to look around.’
    â€˜Of course.’
    â€˜So hold on to the few sticks of furniture for the time being, if that’s okay.’
    There wasn’t much: a coffee-table made from chrome and glass, a sleigh bed in the master upstairs, a photo in a walnut frame on the mantelpiece of some anonymous retired couple whom Martina had already christened George and Georgina.
    â€˜I quite like them. I always like other people’s things more than my own.’ She had assumed that Flood would know what she meant. When he said nothing, and just looked as puzzled as he did, she tried to brush it off. ‘I suppose I’m odd that way.’
    â€˜They’re just things, stuff I got in a discount warehouse, to take the bare look off.’ Flood tucked his shirt into his jeans and pulled a cluster of keys from one of his back pockets. ‘You can burn them when we’re done.’
    â€˜No, I do, I like them,’ she said again, and wished she hadn’t. ‘And it’s not as if we’re not glad of them.’
    â€˜When might you be in a position to complete?’
    â€˜To complete?’
    â€˜The buying end of the deal.’
    â€˜Sooner than later,’ she said. She hadn’t told Paul or Martina this either. ‘That’s the hope.’
    â€˜Good so.’ Flood gestured towards a dinky caravan parked about fifty yards up the site, between the houses and the two identical apartment blocks at the top of the close which he referred to as ‘townhouses’. ‘Marcus will be up there from six every night.’ Flood looked mortified by the name. ‘Don’t know where they got “Marcus” from. And pass no remarks to Slattery.’ When Helen shrugged, Flood made a circle with