Times of Trouble Read Online Free

wedged
between the man an d the bed head. The
harder she struggled, the more force he used to thrust into her.
The pain got so bad she almost wished she could black out, to make
it go away. She tried to scream but his hand was over her mouth.
And just as she thought she couldn’t bear it any longer, both his
huge hands closed around her throat. She couldn’t get any air into
her lungs, and everything did indeed start to go black.
    The cameraman moved the camera even closer to her,
zooming in on her face. She could see Jared still standing in the
corner, motionless. His face was devoid of concern, and even had a
glint of satisfaction that repulsed her. Tears streamed down her
cheeks and she tried to open her mouth enough to bite the man’s
wrist, but he was too strong; she couldn’t move her jaw. She didn’t
want them to have the satisfaction of looking into her eyes, so she
closed them, and clenched her mouth shut. Her head felt ready to
explode; the pressure was unbearable. And then it was over.

Chapter 3

    Mum avoided me for
the rest of the day. She was sick of me asking about the mortgage,
and I think she was also worrying about how she was going fix
everything, since she was clearly out of ideas. I tried to go to
sleep early, but my mind wouldn’t let me rest. Part of me wanted to
storm into mum’s room, and demand an explanation. The other part
wanted to run to the computer, and cancel the auction. I did
finally fall asleep, but my dreams were full of dark
imaginings.
    I slept in as usual,
having no real reason to get out of bed. Eventually curiosity
motivated me to drag myself to the computer. Mum was outside
gardening, the clip of her secateurs as she deadheaded the roses
audible through the study window. I sat staring at the auction for
a while. There were a few people watching Picasso, and one person
had already put in a bid. I felt better knowing we would have a
solution to the immediate problem - some cash. I was so engrossed
in watching my piano disappear, I didn’t hear mum walk into the
room, and peer over my shoulder.
    ‘ What are you
doing?’
    She knew as soon as
she saw the screen what my plan was. She stared at me with a look
of such pained horror that I jumped out of my chair, and wrapped
her in a hug. Mum wasn’t expecting my suddenly intimate embrace,
and almost toppled sideways. As we righted ourselves, she started
to protest.
    ‘ Darling, you can’t
sell Picasso. It’s like selling part of the family. I just can’t
let you do it.’
    ‘ I can get at least
$5,000 for him. That would pay the mortgage for quite a while. When
you’re ready to tell me what the hell happened to the $80,000, we
can talk about what we need to do once this money runs
out.’
    Finally mum looked
defeated; the mention of the exact amount of the debt rattled her.
She knew we needed the money.
    ‘ But your students.
You start a new term next week. What will they play when you teach
them?’
    I hadn’t thought that
far so I just shrugged.
    The tension in the
house was so thick, I sat outside on the back lawn to eat my
breakfast, hoping the cool breeze might help me to breathe easier.
Mum came outside, and stood for a while as if deciding whether to
speak or not. Eventually she sat down, making an effort to be
cheerful, even though the stress was seeping out of her like
sweat.
    ‘ Why don’t we go for
a walk at the park? Then I can explain what’s been going
on.’
    ‘ So you’ve decided to
tell me after all?’
    ‘ What with you
selling Picasso, I know it’s too late to keep this all from
you.’
    I nodded in
agreement, and we both went inside silently to get changed. For me,
it meant throwing on a t-shirt and a pair of old cargo pants. Mum
always took much longer to get ready, so I passed the time by
playing a few of my favourite piano pieces, aware of having to make
the most of my time left with Picasso. I ended up with the last
movement of the Schubert B flat sonata I‘d won him with, which