Three Letters Read Free Page A

that door, and wait downstairs. I’ll not be long.’
    ‘That’s what you always say, and you still take ages.’ Putting his backto the door, Casey slid down into a crouched position. Slightly built, with thick brown hair and dark, striking eyes, he had his father’s kindly nature. ‘Mam?’
    ‘I thought I told you to clear off.’
    ‘Has the man gone?’
    ‘What man?’ Panic marbled her voice. ‘What are yer talking about? There’s no man ’ere!’
    ‘No, I mean just before, when I came up the street, I saw a man at the door. I thoughtyou’d let him in.’
    She gave a nervous chuckle. ‘Oh,
that
man? O’ course I didn’t let him in. I sent him packing.’
    ‘Did you? But I never saw him go.’ Casey’s instincts told him she was lying, and it wouldn’t be for the first time.
    ‘Just do as yer told!’ Ignoring his comment about ‘the man’, she softened her voice. ‘Go down now, Casey. I’ll be there directly with money for the fish an’ chips.’

    There followed a long pause, causing her to believe he’d gone.
    ‘Little sod! He’s eight years old, going on eighty!’ Snuggling up to the man’s naked body, Ruth ran her fingers down his neck. ‘I were counting on the two of us having a good hour together, and now he’s gone and ruined it.’
    The man reached out and tweaked her erect nipple. ‘Aw, well,’ he sighed, ‘next time, mebbe. When the brat’sat school.’
    ‘MAM!’
    ‘For pity’s sake, I told yer to go downstairs!’
    ‘Who are you talking to?’
    ‘Nobody!’
    ‘I thought I heard somebody.’
    ‘Well, that were probably me, talking to myself, like a crazy woman. It’s
you
that sends me crazy, allus hanging about, spying on me at every turn. Do like I say and sod off downstairs.’
    ‘There’s nothing to do.’
    ‘Well …
find
summat to do. Clean your dad’sguitar, if you want. Just busy yerself till I come down.’
    ‘But I need you to come down now. I need to get the fish and chips. Dad’ll be hungry.’
    ‘By, yer a persistent little git, aren’t yer, eh?’ Grabbing her shoe from the floor, she threw it at the door, where it landed with a thump. ‘I’ll not tell you again! Just get off out of it. D’you hear me?’
    ‘Can I really clean Dad’s guitar?’
    She hesitated.‘Well, yeah … I expect so.’ She knew how much that guitar meant to Tom. His own father had taught him to play it when he was even younger than Casey was now.
    Some years ago, when his father contracted arthritis in his fingers and couldn’t play it any more, he handed the guitar down to Tom.
    ‘Take good care of it, lad,’ Tom had told her many times of what his father had said, ‘When you play, youmust open your heart to its magic. Listen to what it tells you, and you’ll be repaid tenfold.’
    On teaching his own son how to play it, Tom told Casey of his grandfather’s words, and Casey had never forgotten them.
    He recalled them now. ‘Mam, I’ll go downstairs, but if I polish the guitar, can I play it afterwards … please?’
    ‘YES! I don’t give a bugger
what
you do with the thing. So long asyer don’t keep botherin’ me. It doesn’t make money, and it doesn’t put food on the table, and sometimes when your father’s down there playing till all hours, we can none of us get any sleep. That blessed guitar is for neither use nor ornament. As far as I’m concerned, yer can tek it to the pop-shop. Tell old Foggarty he can have it for a few quid.’
    The boy was shocked to his roots. ‘You can’tsay that! It’s Dad’s guitar, not yours!’
    When there was no response, he waited a moment, pressing his ear to the door. He thought he heard someone sniggering, and it didn’t sound like his mam. Now, though, in the ensuing silence, he wasn’t so sure.
    ‘You won’t be long before you come down, will you, Mam?’
    He was greeted with silence.
    ‘I’m going down now, Mam, but I need to go to the chip shop.All right?’
    The silence thickened.
    ‘MAM!’ He