Spinning Around Read Free Page B

something. I was a bit surprised, but I didn’t like to overreact. Maybe I’m overreacting now. She had purple hair, and pale skin. One of those tattooed bracelets on her upper arm. A kind of orange chiffon singlet slung over a black T-shirt with the sleeves cut off. Three studs in her left ear. I couldn’t see what she was wearing on her bottom half—it was behind the table. I couldn’t see her face very well, either.’ Miriam cocked an eyebrow at me. ‘Sound familiar?’ she asked.
    I shook my head, speechless. During the brief silence that followed, I could hear Sleeping Beauty singing ‘Once Upon a Dream’ in the next room.
    â€˜You might end up hating me for this,’ Miriam concluded, ‘but in the end I felt that I couldn’t walk away from it. Not with my background. I’ve had too much to do with guys who’ve gambled away all their money, and lost their jobs, and started juggling credit cards and signing away their houses and their wives haven’t had a clue, though they must have sensed that something was going on. You’ve got to nip deceit in the bud, or it’ll end up just the tip of the iceberg. Believe me. I’ve seen it. All these fraudulent lending managers who start off with a mistress on the sly and end up draining church bank accounts. It happens.’
    â€˜But—’
    â€˜I know. I know.’ She lifted a hand. ‘Matt isn’t a thief. But if he turned out to be throwing away all your mortgage money on this . . . um . . . person, I’d never have forgiven myself if I hadn’t told you. That’s all.’
    Tick, tick, tick. The kitchen clock ticked away. I checked the time automatically. Five to six.
    â€˜What time did you see him?’ I asked. ‘In the restaurant?’ Normally, on a weekday, Matt leaves home around twelve, so that he can work for Rural Spotlight . (He does sound mixing for a lot of ABC programs, including Rural Spotlight , the news, and that arts one whose name always escapes me.) This means that he’ll either grab a bite of lunch at home, before he leaves, or drop into a coffee shop on the way—when we can afford it. That day, he had left a little early. I remembered the excuse that he had given: namely, lunch with his friend Ray. Ray was one of Matt’s colleagues who had also become his friend. He was like a younger version of Matt, because they both enjoyed the same kinds of music, bars and television shows. Unfortunately, Ray had recently moved from the on-air mixing desk to postproduction, which offered its staff more sensible hours—so Matt didn’t see as much of him any more. Hence the need for lunch appointments. ‘Matt has to be at work at one,’ I pointed out. ‘When did you see him? Exactly?’
    â€˜About half past twelve.’
    â€˜Oh.’ So that fitted. I scratched my arm, avoiding Miriam’s eye. ‘I’ll ask Matt,’ I said, in a surprisingly calm voice. ‘There must be an explanation.’
    â€˜Probably.’
    â€˜I mean—was he really cuddling her?’
    â€˜Well, he had an arm around her shoulders, and he was pulling her against him. And her face was buried in his neck.’
    â€˜And he was kissing her hair.’
    â€˜A couple of times.’
    I swallowed. ‘Are you sure it was Matt?’
    â€˜Dead certain,’ Miriam replied, with a level gaze. I turned away from her. I couldn’t think.
    â€˜Mu-um!’ Emily called from the living room. ‘I’m finished!’
    â€˜Okay.’
    â€˜I’m finished, Mum!’
    â€˜All right. Good girl.’
    â€˜I’m still hungry!’
    â€˜You can have an apple.’
    â€˜Oo-oh.’ Whine, whine. ‘I want something else.’
    â€˜It’s nearly dinner. Just wait.’
    â€˜But I’m hungry . . .’
    â€˜Just wait , Emily!’ I found myself rubbing my forehead with one finger as I