An Autumn Affair. Alice Ross

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ out of the window between classes one day to see Max striding across the school car park, all long legs and floppy dark-blond hair.

      And Julia did know how lucky she was.

      The day Max told her he loved her had been one of the happiest of her entire life. Three days before Christmas they’d been ice-skating at a park on the outskirts of the city. Julia, with unabashed bravado, launched herself into the centre of the rink and attempted to do a twirl. Things – perhaps understandably – not going quite as planned, she landed in an ungainly heap on the ice.

      A split second later Max was at her side. ‘God, Julia! Are you all right?’

      From her supine position, Julia gazed up at him. ‘My arm hurts but I don’t think I’ve broken anything.’

      The look of concern on his face caused her heart to constrict. ‘I can’t stand the thought of anything happening to you, Ju. I really can’t.’ He tenderly swiped a lock of hair from her forehead. ‘I love you.’

      Those three words caused every other thought to rocket from Julia’s head. She forgot all about the pain in her arm, the other skaters, the loud music, and the fact that she was lying on a sheet of ice. For a few seconds, she and Max were the only two people in the entire universe.

      ‘And I love you,’ she eventually replied.

      And she really did. Had for months but hadn’t dared tell him.

      After that, the intensity of their relationship increased tenfold. It was like they were soulmates, destined to be together forever.

      That same evening, with Julia’s parents out sipping mulled wine at a neighbour’s party, they’d lain on the sofa in her living room for hours, kissing and gazing into one another’s eyes.

      ‘I’d like to marry you one day,’ Max whispered.

      And Julia thought, for the second time in only a few hours, that she might die of happiness.

      Then, in what seemed to be the blink of an eye, university beckoned. York for Julia. Cambridge for Max. General consensus was that they didn’t have a hope in hell of keeping the relationship going. But they had. For a while, anyway. Until … until Julia made what she now realised was possibly the biggest mistake of her life.

      ‘Julia?’ Paul’s voice bowled up the stairs. ‘Are you going to be much longer? I need to leave in a few minutes.’

      Julia swiped the tears from her cheeks, leaped off the bed and began rummaging through the pile of laundry for her husband’s blue striped shirt. ‘Nearly finished,’ she called back.

      *****

      Half an hour later, Paul Blakelaw’s heart sank as his gaze landed on the clock on the Jag’s walnut dashboard. Shit! Of all the days to be late, it had to be today. The day of the dreaded Board meeting. With his presentation first on the agenda. And now he’d hit the worst of the traffic, he’d be at least ten minutes late. Damn. If only Julia hadn’t taken so long to iron his shirt … Paul grimaced. God! That made him sound like a completely chauvinistic pig. Which he wasn’t. He was actually perfectly capable of ironing his own shirt – which, ideally, he would have done the evening before, if he hadn’t arrived home so late. But with him working such ridiculous hours, he’d come to rely on Julia for those kinds of things. Which didn’t make him a bad person, did it? He was, after all, doing his best to provide for his family. And he didn’t think he was making too bad a job of it. But Julia …

      Paul slammed on the brakes as a bus pulled out in front of him.

      … Julia had been acting really strangely over the last few days. Of course he’d asked her what was wrong, but the uninformative ‘nothing’ hurled back had made it perfectly clear she didn’t want to discuss the matter.

      Crunching the gears as he slowed down at a junction, Paul shook his head and heaved a weary sigh. Until recently, he’d never much thought about his marriage. He and Julia just kind of drifted along. Like most couples, he assumed. Especially when there were children involved. But ever since turning forty – or, to be more precise, ever since his new assistant had started at the office just after Paul’s fortieth birthday – he’d begun to look at things a little … differently.

      Which is why he really hoped Julia acting strangely didn’t mean she suspected anything.

      Not that there was anything to suspect.

      Not really, anyway.

      *****

      The best thing about college, Faye concluded, was that you had heaps of spare time. Spare time which could be utilised for studying, of course. But Faye had discovered it was much more fun lying – albeit fully clothed – on a sunlounger by the pool at Buttersley Hall, observing Josie’s tennis lesson.

      Or, to be more precise, observing Eduardo during Josie’s tennis lesson.

      Faye would have been the first to admit that her experience with the opposite sex could be deftly placed in the ‘limited’ category. In Bristol, she and Luke Molloy had been ‘going out’. Which, roughly translated, meant they were mates who occasionally engaged in a snog. But that was because, Faye suddenly realised, Luke was a mere boy. Eduardo, on the other hand, was a man. One hundred per cent testosterone – of the sexy Mediterranean variety.

      From behind her aviator sunglasses, Faye watched as Eduardo’s muscular frame – clad in knee-length, baggy white shorts and a red T-shirt which looked three sizes too small for his broad chest, bounded around the tennis court. In addition to being a real live Adonis, the man was spectacularly fit. Although Faye supposed he’d have to be, to keep up with Lydia Pembleton – the scary lady with big boobs who’d apparently found him in Spain, packaged him up, and brought him back to Buttersley with her. Lucky cow.

      Faye heaved an almighty sigh and folded her arms over her chest. Her chances of meeting any guy as hunky as Eduardo were as likely as her mum serving up a brand of American fast food for dinner in a sequinned mini skirt. Faye hadn’t come across any boys her age at all in Buttersley. And the ones she’d met at college were as dishy as a lump of corned beef. All of which could mean she was destined to life as a spinster. Like one of those sad old bats in those Jane Austen novels.

      At the thought of Jane Austen, Faye experienced a stab of guilt. She had an English literature assignment to hand in tomorrow and she hadn’t even started it yet. She reached for her bag and pulled out a copy of Hamlet. Flicking through a few pages, she wondered how anyone could possibly find the Bard the least bit interesting. Maybe she should have chosen French instead of English lit. But that would only mean more boring stuff – in a boring foreign language. And what, frankly, was the point anyway? No matter how much work she did, her grades at A-level would still be rubbish. Especially compared to Leo’s inevitable bagful of A-stars. So she might as well not bother. At least if she didn’t try, she couldn’t be disappointed again. And there would be no humiliation like with her GCSEs. She tossed down the book and reached into her bag again, this time pulling out a copy of the latest Hello! magazine.

      ‘Hola, Faye.’

      Faye whipped up her head to find Eduardo striding over the grass towards her.

      ‘You wait for me?’ he asked with a cheeky wink.

      Faye felt her cheeks reddening. ‘No. I’m waiting for Josie.’

      ‘Ah, СКАЧАТЬ