Free The Protector by Duncan Falconer Page B

silence.
    ‘I’m not a thief,’ he snapped, glaring at her.
    ‘You take money that is not yours under false pretences. That is stealing.’
    ‘They’re fines.’
    ‘Fines,’ she said, hitting a higher note. ‘Fines go to the government. When you put the money in your pocket it’s theft.’
    ‘They owe us it, anyway.’
    ‘Who does?’
    ‘The government.You know how little we get paid.’
    ‘Is that what you tell yourself? Or is that what your new friend Hassan tells you to get you to do it?’
    Abdul held onto his temper as he removed his boots, got up and walked past her. ‘What’s for supper?’ he asked as he sat on the couch and picked up the remote television control.
    ‘I’m not your wife, Abdul. I work too.’
    He sighed heavily, struggling to overcome his anger as he repeatedly clicked the remote, unable to get it to respond correctly.‘There is no government anyhow.’
    ‘You’re getting more like them every day.You’re not in a police force. You’re in a gang.’
    The television came on too loudly - an Egyptian soap opera - and Tasneen moved briskly across the room to turn it off. ‘Abdul? Listen to me. Don’t you realise what you are doing?’
    ‘I’m earning us a living, that’s what I’m doing,’ he said, raising his voice unconvincingly in his effort to dominate her.
    Tasneen might have been delicate in stature but the fire in her bright oval eyes showed greater determination than her brother possessed. ‘At what price?’ she said, placing her hands on her hips. ‘Our mother and father would be horrified if they knew.’
    ‘Father left us nothing. The house was practically destroyed and no one will buy it for years.’
    Tasneen exhaled heavily, calming herself in an effort to bring down the temperature. ‘We earn a good enough living between us. You don’t need to steal.’
    ‘This is not a living. You work for an American contractor in the Green Zone. You have to hide yourself each time you go in and come out, every day wondering if a suicide bomber will blow himself up at the checkpoint, always wondering if someone will follow you home and one day kill you for working for the Americans.’
    ‘And what about you?’ she snapped. ‘It’s the same for you, isn’t it? You hide your police uniform when you come home for the same reasons. It’s how things are, Abdul. It’s how we live. But at least I have my self-respect.’
    ‘I’m not a thief! You know that. But you don’t know what it’s like working with those people. I can’t refuse them.’
    ‘Why not?’
    Abdul shook his head in frustration at her complete ignorance.‘What do I say to them? That I’m not going to be a part of the squad any more?’
    ‘Yes,’ Tasneen said, hitting her high note again.
    ‘I would have to quit the police.’
    ‘And what’s wrong with that? It’s better than doing what you do.’
    ‘And then how do we live? You don’t earn enough money for the both of us.’
    ‘Get another job.’
    ‘Doing what?’
    ‘As a security guard.You can earn maybe four, five hundred dollars a month doing that.’
    The first thought that popped into Abdul’s head was that he earned more than that with his supplementary income anyway. But he dared not say that to her. ‘Then get me a job,’ he said.
    Tasneen gritted her teeth in irritation as she watched him fold his arms across his chest and stare at the blank television screen. ‘We cannot go on like this, Abdul,’ she said. ‘You know it as well as I do. It can only get worse.’
    He didn’t move other than to direct his sullen stare down at the floor.
    ‘I hate this bad feeling I have for you,’ she said. ‘I hate it when we talk like this to each other . . . You don’t even seem to want to try to change the way you are living . . . What happened to you, Abdul? You were always a good boy.You and I were always happy together.’
    ‘ You were always happy,’ he snapped. ‘But you’re a girl. It’s easy for you. I’m a