The Top Prisoner of C-Max Read Online Free

just enjoying ourselves.’ Judging by the breadth of his grin, that was true.
    ‘I’m showing him that my shoes are made by Armani,’ Dad said.
    Rosa snorted audibly. ‘Original Armani imitations from Vietnam.’
    From the other side of the table, Hymie was trying to attract Yudel’s attention. ‘Rosa tells me that she’s got you onto a homeopathic remedy for your diabetes.’
    ‘That’s right,’ Yudel said, trying to keep his voice neutral. To show Rosa that he thought the treatment was not working might encourage her to search for other remedies, a course that he wanted to avoid.
    ‘So, is it working?’
    Yudel became aware that this was one of the moments when the company had fallen silent to hear his response. He glanced at Rosa and met her eyes. What the hell, he thought. ‘It seems to be doing very well,’ he said.
    Rosa smiled.
    ‘Your readings come down since then?’ Hymie persisted.
    Rosa was still watching Yudel. ‘Tending downwards,’ Yudel said.
    ‘Tending?’ Hymie smirked.
    ‘Of course it’s working,’ Rosa told her brother-in-law. ‘I have complete faith in homeopathy.’
    ‘Of course.’ Hymie grinned. ‘What about Yudel? Has he got complete faith in homeopathy?’
    Yudel pretended not to hear the question. ‘Where did you grow up?’ he asked Thandi.
    Rosa too changed the subject. ‘I’ve been going to wonderful lectures on Buddhism,’ she told her brother-in-law. ‘I’m becoming a Buddhist. It doesn’t conflict with our religion.’
    ‘God help us,’ Hymie said.
    Later that evening, Robert manoeuvred Yudel out to the narrow terrace that overlooked Rosa’s garden. He was a tall, loose-limbed man who looked as if he could have been a sports star rather than a newspaper editor. He had been relaxed and jovial all evening. Now his face was serious. ‘Do you know how she is? Have you heard anything from her?’
    Yudel did not need to ask who he was talking about. ‘No, I’ve had no contact with Abigail.’
    ‘I need to make contact with her.’
    Yudel shrugged. The matter had nothing to do with him.
    ‘You know about the political killings in Mpumalanga?’
    ‘I’ve read about them in your paper.’ He thought about Oliver Hall, his impending release and the prison rumour that he had been responsible for one of the early Mpumalanga killings.
    ‘One of my people has come upon something that implicates senior politicians. I want to hand it to someone who will not allow it to be filed away and forgotten.’
    ‘That sounds like Abigail.’
    ‘But you haven’t seen her?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Yes, you have, or yes, you haven’t?’
    ‘Yes, I haven’t.’
    ‘Not since our divorce?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘You haven’t even spoken to her since then?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘I don’t understand you, Yudel.’
    And I don’t understand you, Yudel thought. You were married to the most brilliant and stimulating woman, possibly the most attractive you were ever going to meet all your life, and you exchanged her for that sweet little nonentity, and you say that you cannot understand me. And now you’re eaten up by the need to know how she is. ‘Why?’ Yudel asked.
    Robert knew what he was asking. ‘I don’t know. Maybe it’s because she’s so damned independent. She insisted on keeping her own surname and, at heart, I’m quite a traditional Zulu. She was following her career and I was following mine. We didn’t see each other that often and I wanted a wife. Thandi is always there when I need her. She has no career ambitions and no emergencies that take her away from me. She doesn’t want to change the world. She only wants to look after me. I know it sounds selfish, but that’s what I want in a woman.’
    ‘I see.’
    ‘Don’t do that.’
    ‘Do what?’
    ‘Don’t use that superior psychologist tone on me.’
    ‘I’m sorry.’
    ‘You don’t understand me, do you?’
    ‘Yes.’ Yudel saw that Robert was looking seriously at him. ‘Yes, I don’t,’ he expanded his