The Art of Friendship. Erin Kaye
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Название: The Art of Friendship

Автор: Erin Kaye

Издательство: HarperCollins

Жанр: Зарубежные любовные романы

Серия:

isbn: 9780007340378

isbn:

СКАЧАТЬ it. He was right of course. And then she remembered, as she had done every single day for the last fifteen years, what she owed him. This knowledge didn’t loom large over their marriage – and no doubt rarely crossed Keith’s mind, if at all. But it was never far from Janice’s, and it moderated all her thoughts and actions. She did not resent Keith because of the debt she owed him, far from it. She was inordinately grateful. But it was there nonetheless.

      ‘Janice?’ said Keith.

      ‘Huh?’

      ‘What are you thinking?’

      ‘Nothing,’ she said brightly and smiled. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t…think. It was rude of me. Come on, let’s go down.’

      ‘Just a moment,’ he said, reaching out to flick a lock of dark chestnut hair off her shoulder. ‘Have I told you that you look gorgeous tonight?’

      ‘Thank you,’ she replied automatically and returned a frozen smile, self-conscious and awkward. Keith’s frequent compliments had her spoiled. So often had he told her he loved her and that she was beautiful, that she had become immune to his praise. It wasn’t that she doubted the sincerity of his words. They just did not penetrate the surface of her, as though they were arrows meant for some other target, someone more worthy.

      ‘There you are, Janice! Keith!’ came the sound of Patsy’s voice from the bottom of the stairs, demanding their attention. ‘You’ve got to come and see this. Hurry up!’

      ‘We’d better go down,’ said Janice, without looking back, and she picked her way down the steps. At the bottom, Patsy grabbed her by the hand and pulled her in the direction of the large drawing room. When she glanced over her shoulder Keith, swallowed up by the crowd, was nowhere to be seen.

       Chapter Two

      Patsy led her into what used to be the playroom. Now that Pete was nearly eighteen, it served as a second, more informal, lounge. Someone had pulled both of the black leather sofas into the centre of the room facing each other, thereby switching the focus from the big flat-screen TV in the corner to the coffee table between the sofas. There were a dozen or so people in the room.

      Patsy let go of Janice’s hand and, sauntering her way across the cream shag-pile carpet, called out, ‘Don’t start without us!’

      Janice spotted Martin sitting on the edge of the sofa fiddling with his mobile phone, his huge feet like plates on the floor. His legs were so long his bony knees jutted up awkwardly, like he had been badly folded. Skinny as the lamp in the corner, he had a tousled mop of brown curly hair and a long, thin face. Physically he was not Janice’s cup of tea, but he was a great guy. And, in spite of the physical differences between him and his curvy wife, they were a perfect match for each other. Patsy hopped onto the arm of the sofa, put her arm round Martin’s shoulder and kissed the top of his head. He looked up and winked, beaming.

      ‘Come over here, Janice,’ said Patsy, waving her across the room with an urgent flapping of her right arm. Janice went and stood behind Martin so that the coffee table was in clear view.

      ‘This’ll never work,’ said Martin.

      ‘Give it a chance,’ said Liam, Clare’s husband, who sat opposite him.

      Liam’s slight build and boyish face made him seem younger than a man in his late thirties. This impression was reinforced by his bright periwinkle eyes and, when he became very animated, the peculiar and entirely unconscious habit of raising the pitch of his voice. Clare and Kirsty, who were almost the same age and great friends, had gravitated towards each other and now stood talking behind the sofa. They each held a fresh glass of white wine in their hands and paid no attention to what was going on around them. Even though Janice was only a few years older than them, she had more in common with Patsy – perhaps because, unlike Clare and Kirsty, they both had grown-up children.

      Liam spotted Janice and said, ‘Great party, Janice. Come here and see this.’ He pointed to the table where three mobile phones were laid out in an arc.

      ‘What are you doing?’ asked Janice, perplexed.

      ‘A party trick! Just watch,’ declared Liam with gusto. ‘Ah, there you are. Thanks, Pete.’

      At the mention of her son’s name, Janice looked up, surprised. Under his choppy highlighted hairstyle his face was lightly freckled and his delicate frame was bony under a t-shirt and low-slung jeans. He dropped a handful of caramel-coloured kernels into Liam’s hand, a half-smile on his face. Or smirk, depending how you looked at it.

      ‘Right. We’re ready to rock,’ said Liam. ‘Just need one more mobile phone.’

      Another phone hastily appeared. Liam placed it on the table with the others so that they formed an even-armed cross shape, with a space in the middle. The top of each phone was six inches from the one opposite. Liam said, ‘Now call each mobile on my signal.’

      Janice was sure Pete caught her glance but, if he did, he chose to ignore her. She fixed her gaze on the mobile phones. Pete wasn’t supposed to be here – he had said he was going out. He must’ve changed his plans, she thought, and tried not to allow his presence disturb her. Pete folded his arms and watched Liam with a bemused expression on his face.

      ‘Okay, key in the phone numbers now,’ said Liam and he scattered a few of the kernels on the table, in the space at the centre of the cross.

      ‘Popcorn!’ exclaimed Patsy.

      ‘Hit dial now!’ ordered Liam and, after a few seconds’ delay, Martin’s phone began to ring followed quickly by the others.

      The room fell silent, everyone fixated on the vibrating phones. Even Clare and Kirsty suspended their conversation to watch.

      ‘What’s supposed to happen?’ said Janice, but no-one replied. The phones continued to trill. After several rings, they stopped, presumably as they tripped to voice mail. Janice looked around at a roomful of puzzled faces. Pete had his hand up to his mouth. He seemed to be trying not to laugh. Janice looked away.

      ‘I don’t understand. I saw it on YouTube just the other day,’ said Liam, and he glanced at Martin who raised his eyebrows and shook his head. ‘The energy in the mobile phones cooks the popcorn.’

      Suddenly Pete emitted a loud burst of laughter and everyone looked at him. ‘Oh man!’ he cried and slapped his thighs theatrically, his wiry frame bent double with hysteria. Then he straightened up and composed himself enough to say, ‘I can’t believe you actually did that. Everyone knows that YouTube video was a hoax. It’s, like, months old.’ The left side of his lip curled up in an Elvis-style sneer. ‘How could you think a few phones would emit enough energy to pop corn? You’re a total dork, Liam.’

      Janice closed her eyes briefly, her face already aflame with embarrassment. Liam bit his bottom lip, grabbed his mobile off the table, and stuffed it in his pocket. Clare shot Pete an angry look and Janice opened her mouth to speak, then closed it.

      Pete was nearly a grown man. He should know better. More to the point, she and Keith should’ve taught him better and she, and everybody in that room, knew it. She put a hand over her eyes in shame.

      ‘Any more drinks?’ called a cheerful СКАЧАТЬ