Double-Barrel by Nicolas Freeling Page B

one doesn’t feel ashamed oneself. Remember Mrs Brooks the greengrocer, in her nightie, racing down the street at three in the morning screaming, “Put down that black thing” – we did so wonder what she meant.’
    â€˜Everybody looked then.’
    â€˜Only because she made such a racket she woke us up – and I did so wonder about the black thing – and because I hated Brooks; slimy thing, wanting to rape one if he as much as sold half a pound of carrots.’
    â€˜Dear Mrs Brooks – extraordinary clothes she did wear … But we’re digressing. Back to Peter.’
    â€˜They’d come to a standstill and were having an argumentbut I couldn’t make the words out. He got out then, and made as though to walk on, but she ran after him and clung. She kept on with Peter, Peter.’
    â€˜What time was all this?’
    â€˜About three; all the housewives drinking tea. Half the men in the street are travellers, commercial reps or whatnot – one often sees them at home in the afternoons. Good: Peter sort of shrugged her off, and she went down on her knees and clutched his leg. To stop him getting away, looked like. He turned round – they were at the end of the street – and I suppose he saw a whole row of housewives staring their eyes out, and I dare say that cooled him down. Anyway he suddenly turned back towards the house. She after him, and tried to hang on again. You could see she was really in a state; didn’t care who was looking. Just in front of the door of their house she started clutching again and I think suddenly he got mad because he gave her a real four-penny one. I bet she has a black eye. That snapped the tension; he just took hold of her and brought her in and shut the door. There wasn’t any more. Just silly, but I did think I ought to tell you.’
    â€˜Quite right, because I’m very interested.’
    â€˜Really, or do you say that to encourage me?’
    â€˜No, really. And now tell me the answers to a few things. Do you think he was mad at her all along? I mean that he walked out because he’d come in and found her in bed with the butcher – or just that he got mad at her making a scene in the street?’
    â€˜That more, I think, because he seemed quite calm and controlled till the last moment, when he smacked her – but I could be quite wrong.’
    â€˜Did it seem as though she were trying to excuse herself for something she had done, or was supposed to have done?’
    â€˜Not really. She had a sort of begging voice – it could have been. Don’t leave me, or just Don’t do it – whatever it was he was wanting to do when he got in the car. Oh yes,getting in – it took her a moment to get the auto door open – she shrieked, “Don’t tell it, don’t tell it.” I’ve no idea what she could have meant, though – maybe nothing; she was really hysterical.’
    â€˜Right up my street,’ with appetite.
    Arlette looked slightly aghast at being taken seriously.
    â€˜And I can’t do a damn thing. I think I’m going to yield to a temptation I’ve always had. I want to get to the bottom of this. I’m going to give the police an anonymous phone call.’
    â€˜Oh, darling. That’s a bit revolting – do you have to?’
    â€˜How else are we to find out? One thing – I don’t think I know how to place her. What’s she like? Pretty?’
    â€˜Well, she’s not absolutely horrible,’ said Arlette charmingly. ‘About twenty-seven, maybe twenty-five. Huge feet, and seems quite flat-breasted. Sort of bony. Small foxy face, quite pretty I suppose but stupe, like the baker’s girl at home; the one on the corner.’
    Fairly typical Arlette description – sounded as though the woman were not bad at all. Mm, another young, pretty married woman.
    â€˜Listen. This sounds to me a good example of the