Free The Widow by Nicolas Freeling Page B

either. Had that worked? Not too terribly; mean to say, the kids learned a lot of Chinese but no French … Still, they rubbed along.Like her; she managed, shopping and stuff. Hell, she knew how to get along. Not like we were blacks, Paks or something, eating special grub and wearing turbans. Did the children look any different to the French? Did she? Learn the names of a few things, fromahdge, and you’re home. Honest, I love it here. No kidding: you should see Salford, love.
    Arlette’s heart warmed to Norma. She’d had just the same herself in Amsterdam and found it rough going. The Dutch called the fromahdge kahss, put it on their bread with margarine and cut the result with a knife and fork: weird, and you learned to call the vinaigrette slahsowse.
    No, the fly in the ointment is this bleeding Robert. Not the same as in England. They never are, thought Arlette gloomily – even dear old Piet …
    Robert had gone real funny. Suspicious and jealous, my gawd. Look, the other day he got a rifle, and lined them all up against the wall, and said he’d shoot the lot if ever she looked at another man. Not that she had, but he wasn’t kidding, and it frightened her, you know. Another thing; he’d got so goddamned mean. Had always refused to give her a weekly allowance, but a banknote here and there from his pocket.
    â€˜I’m used enough to making do. Always been poor, not ashamed of it or frightened of it. But giving you a ten-franc note, expecting the day’s food to come out of that for five persons, that’s just daft. I’m not just a prostitute love, honest. Keep his house, and I keep it clean, and put his food on the table. I’ve got to clothe the children – not right, is it?’
    Plainly, the first thing was to get ol’ Norma’s morale up. She poured a second cup of tea, found a pack of Virginia cigarettes, and talked hearteningly for ten minutes. This is nonsense, girl. Entitled to Social Security like anyone else. Of course you must have money of your own; there are the children’s allowances, and the woman-on-the-hearth, and a whole lot more. I’ll find out exactly what your entitlement is, help fill in forms, lot of paper. No, you write down ‘concubine’ and the hell with it. Makes no difference; nor does being English. And I’ll help you sort the school out.
    But more important, you have to stand on your own feet; have some independence. This is serfdom, and the sooner Robert gets that into his head … Any trade? Barmaid? Well, you can earn good money at that, and better still in Germany. How old are the children? Seven, eleven, fifteen? Old enough to stand on their own feet. Hard work and awkward hours, but you’re not workshy.
    Sure thing, said Norma sturdily, but bleeding Robert’s that jealous. Barmaid …!
    Arlette had seen this snag coming, and could see more, too, but right now …
    â€˜Look, can I come and see you? Maybe tomorrow? I need to give this some thought, see what I can work out.’
    â€˜Sure. I’m always there. But – what about the payment? The kids saw your advert. You aren’t the Sally Army, love, are you though?’ Looking round at the office, which did look quite expensive, and at Arlette who did too. As Arthur said, they had to.
    â€˜You’ll pay me what you can afford, when you can. Like an agent. Ten per cent of a month’s money, if I find you a job. Is that fair?’
    â€˜Sure. You’ve done me good. I’m frightened though, about Robert. Violent…’
    â€˜But I’m not.’ No. Because Robert can’t do anything to me. He might beat up this defenceless woman though, or worse, a child. She’d have to be cautious. ‘Say nothing to him yet.’
    â€˜No-o. Thanks for the tea. Did me good.’
    â€˜See you then. I’ll talk too to my husband if I may. He might have some good advice.’ And she could guess what it