Green against green
July 30, 2011 § Leave a comment
It’s not what you might think.
The car is only really visible if you’re heading up the road from the south, towards the reservoir. A dark green car, against the backdrop of the pine trees, and the people in the car are both sat low in their seats, for all the world as if they were spies, or undercover police on a job.
Nothing so glamorous. Nothing like in a film, really. The woman in the passenger seat, the one with once-blonde hair that’s dark and greasy at the roots? She’s his sister, see, and he didn’t want anyone seeing him with her. He’s not much to look at himself, mind, being of a rat-like look, but at least he knows right from wrong, at least he knows about doing the decent thing.
She’d come round again last night, causing trouble and asking for money. Came out with some line about their mother throwing her out again, and whilst he’d thought that sounded about right, about bloody time, he’d said nothing. He never does.
His wife had plenty to say, mind, about how that woman – well, she’d not said woman, but it’s his sister after all, his flesh and blood – that woman wasn’t welcome, she was trouble, she’d some cheek coming round here again.
The man’s out here with his sister and he’s trying to make her understand that this is the last time. His wife doesn’t yet know about the five crisp £20 notes he’s taken from the ceramic chicken on the windowsill, but she’ll find out soon enough and he’ll get an earful.
Just something to help his sister on her way.