Free Good Husband Material by Trisha Ashley

with beady black eyes, had an expression of belligerence that seemed natural to it, and which was not helped by the minor landslide that had reshaped the left side of her face, dragging the eye and corner of her mouth with it.
    I’ve seen more attractive old ladies.
    ‘I’ve come about The Child!’ she hissed accusingly out of the good corner of her mouth.

Chapter 6: The Posy Profligate
    ‘Oh, yes?’ I answered politely, in case she should prove to be the local lunatic. ‘What child?’
    ‘What child! What child!’ uttered the old lady scathingly. ‘Why, the one I hear screaming and crying night and morning! Morning and night! Hark at it now, the poor thing! It’s a disgrace to neglect a child like that – besides going out and leaving it alone in the house, which I seen you do this morning! If it doesn’t stop I’m going to complain to the authorities, and so I warn you!’
    My mind swung into gear with an almost audible click as I grasped the truth of the matter, for even now there was a raucous screaming coming from the living room.
    And this must be the quiet, sweet little old lady from next door! Hardly what the estate agent led us to expect.
    ‘It isn’t a child screaming, it’s my parrot,’ I explained. ‘I’m very sorry if it disturbed you.’
    She turned on me a look of indescribable contempt. ‘A parrot? The child was screaming and sobbing for its mother!’
    ‘Where’s Mummy, then? Toby want biccy!’ pleaded the feathered encumbrance from the other room.
    ‘Parrot, indeed!’
    There was nothing for it but to invite her in to view the wretched bird, and of course Toby immediately shut up and eyed us with malevolence through the bars, turning his head doubtfully from side to side. Then he scratched the back of his head with one foot, before excreting copiously with a horrid ‘glop’.
    I averted my eyes. He makes me feel quite ill, sometimes.
    ‘He’s not very big to be making all that noise, is he?’ said my neighbour, unconvinced. ‘I thought parrots were them big, colourful birds with curved beaks.’
    ‘I expect you mean macaws, but he
is
a parrot – a South African Grey – and it’s surprising just how much noise he can make. I have to cover him up sometimes, just to get a bit of peace, but I can’t cover him up all the time.’ (Unfortunately.)
    ‘He’s not saying anything now, is he?’
    We both stared at the silent cage, and Toby stared inimically back.
    ‘But if you really haven’t got a child, I suppose it must be him I heard.’
    ‘I haven’t got a child hidden away, and I’m really terribly busy just now …’
    She gave one last, doubtful look at Toby and turned to go.
    ‘Shut that bloody door!’ screeched an eldritch voice, and she whirled round as fast as her game leg allowed her.
    Toby blinked innocently at her, then gave a fruity chuckle that slowly worked its way up to an evil cackle.
    Backing out, still staring, she fell over the chair in the hall. ‘I never would have believed it!’ she muttered, hauling herself up by the chair back. Then she looked down and added absently, ‘Nice commode!’
    ‘We like it,’ I replied coldly. How on earth did she know? ‘Well, I’m glad to have met you at last, Mrs … er?’
    ‘Peach.’ And the dumpy figure limped away down the drive without another word.
    Feeling even more ruffled than before, I closed the door and discovered a long, thin brown envelope lying by the wall, which must have come earlier. Quite a stiff envelope – probably one of the garage brochures we’d sent for.
    Ripping open the end, I pulled out the enclosure – and then, with a sharp ‘twang!’ something brick red sprang out and hit me sharply on the nose. I recoiled backwards onto the commode and wept overwrought tears.
    I soon had myself back under control, of course, and discovered that the flying object was a cardboard garage, ingeniously arranged so that it would fold flat to fit in an envelope. Once opened it sprang back into