Secrets and Lies. Jaishree Misra
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Название: Secrets and Lies

Автор: Jaishree Misra

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература

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isbn: 9780007331642

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СКАЧАТЬ the crest of which was aflame with red flowers. Suddenly she felt a little blessed. The dear Lord had strange ways, but it was as though He had understood that, with the passage of the years, she too would need someone to help fill the lonely evenings. And so Lily had been sent to her so unexpectedly, someone to love again, so late in life. Of course, the poor child was savagely angry and resentful, especially at the secrecy that would be required for the time being. The row last night had been quite unbearable, but it was best not to reveal the past—Lily would simply have to understand that.

      At the end of her first day at St Jude’s, Lily stood at the first-floor window of her empty classroom, looking at the droves of girls heading down the drive for the cars and school buses that would take them all to their homes. She imagined them being received by their mums at the door and the smell of food that would be emanating from their kitchens. Whenever Lily conjured up images of family life in her head, she saw them like those television advertisements for rice or talcum powder that both fascinated and repelled her, and sometimes broke her heart. Weren’t those the kind of families most people had: mums in pretty saris and aprons serving up steaming bowls of rice, dads driving up to neat little houses in their shiny cars, coming in from work holding briefcases, while children with plump, scrubbed faces sat laughing around dining tables? That was what all those girls streaming out of the school gates had. And they didn’t even consider it as being out of the ordinary. ‘Everyone but you, Lily D’Souza,’ she muttered under her breath, feeling that by-now familiar twist of anger and bitterness in her stomach. All she had was School Principal Victoria bloody Lamb—and there was no way she could think of that scrawny old bat as being even remotely related to her. Certainly not now, when it was too late; much, much too late.

      Lily twisted the handkerchief in her hand till she could feel its embroidered edge snap and tear. She turned from the window and blew her nose loudly as angry hot tears fell from her eyes and rolled off her chin. Leaning on the windowsill, Lily wiped her face roughly, wondering how long she could skulk around in the school building before being either turfed out or locked in. She surveyed the empty classroom, the rows of scuffed and ink-stained wooden desks and chairs left all awry, bits of paper littering the floor. To calm the horrible wobbly feeling inside her and have something to do, she walked between the rows, noisily straightening the desks till they formed neat lines, then proceeding to clatter chairs under them until everything was tidy and orderly, the way it was meant to be. She looked at the names and graffiti that had been carved into some of the desks, seeing initials of girls, some coupled with what were probably initials of boys surrounded by heart shapes. Such things were the normal concerns of most girls, she thought as she picked various exercise books and pens off the floor and placed them on a desk. Surveying her handiwork, she wondered if she ought to go to the next classroom and do the same thing there as well. There was something faintly comforting about bringing order where she could. Besides, there was no way she was going back to the cottage where she would have to put up with all that solicitous fake familial behaviour again. Just a week and already it was choking her to death. She wished she could run away from St Jude’s and this horrid noisy city and go back to her beloved Mussourie. It was the best season to be there, when wildflowers came bursting out of the grassy banks and the pine tree outside her window would be heavy with cones…

      Lily started to cry again. One thing she knew for sure was that she would never, ever forgive Victoria Lamb for what she had done.

       Chapter Four

      LONDON, 2008

      Sam drove nervously through what was now very heavy rain. She’d volunteered to drop Anita off at her flat in Borough as they left Heebah’s and, perhaps because of the downpour, Anita hadn’t demurred. They were both unusually quiet on the drive south, each sunk in her own thoughts, Anita occasionally providing directions to get to Blackfriars Bridge.

      As they drove over the bridge, Sam glanced at her friend’s profile, trying to think of something to say to lighten the atmosphere.

      ‘Oh, I’ve been meaning to tell you. I saw a really good film the other day. You and Hugh will really like it,’ she said.

      ‘Really?’ Anita roused herself. ‘Which one?’

      Sam racked her brains. This was the trouble, she had got to a stage where she couldn’t even remember the things she liked. At thirty-two!

      ‘Oh God, it had whatshisname in it…’ she said, lifting one hand off the wheel to click her fingers frustratedly

      ‘You don’t mean whatshisname!?’ Anita laughed. ‘Oh, I just adore him! Left at the lights, Sam.’

      ‘Yeah, I know where we are now, thanks,’ Sam said ruefully, swinging to the left and pulling in at the door to Anita’s loft apartment, ‘although it probably won’t be long before I’ll be forgetting more than just the names of films and actors!’ She turned to her friend and added apologetically, ‘Oh, what’s wrong with me. The name will come to me the minute I’ve driven away from here. How annoying!’

      ‘Never mind, darling. Coming up to my flat for a glass of wine?’

      Sam shook her head, smiling. ‘I need to get home before Heer turns in, sweetie. Is Hugh coming tonight?’

      ‘He’s on the night shift all week, but I’m going over for dinner this weekend. He’s cooking!’

      ‘We didn’t mention him at all tonight,’ Sam noted apologetically, turning off the ignition and looking directly at Anita.

      ‘Hardly surprising, given what was on all our minds.’

      ‘I hope it’s going well?’

      ‘With Hugh, you mean? Yeah, I guess. He does seem awfully nice, but then I’ve only known him a couple of weeks. Sounds awful, but I keep waiting for him to put a foot wrong. So far he hasn’t, I must say, but I do worry that it might just be by careful intent!’

      Sam considered this for a moment before replying, ‘Well, even if it is by careful intent, isn’t it rather nice that he cares enough to do that?’

      Anita’s grunt only sounded half-convinced so Sam continued her counsel. ‘Listen, don’t keep watching and waiting for something to go wrong. Just relax and enjoy getting to know him.’ Sam stopped, vaguely aware that it was a bit rich for her to advise anyone on matters of the heart.

      Anita nodded. ‘You’re right, Sam. I’m too much of a cynical old cow for my own good sometimes. Listen, call if you need to talk, okay? Any time. You know that.’

      Sam reached out over the gear-stick to kiss her friend’s cheek before she got out of the car. ‘You too. Call me whenever you can.’

      She started up the engine again but waited until Anita was through her door before reversing and heading back for Borough High Street. She jumped as a motorbike courier flashed by, inches away from the side mirror, and cursed under her breath. That second glass of wine had been a bad idea, taken only because Bubbles had insisted that the police would never be prowling on a night as wet as this. How stupid of her to have taken advice from someone who never drove! The last thing she needed after such an emotional meeting with her two friends was a brush with a policeman waving a large breathalyser. If that did happen, she was sure she would collapse right into his arms in a flood of tears.

      Sam nervously edged her Audi into the stream of traffic heading for Waterloo Bridge, earning an angry toot. Well, she hoped this was the way to Waterloo Bridge; СКАЧАТЬ