A Reluctant Wife. CATHY WILLIAMS

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ need to dig up the past.’ At the mention of her daughter’s name Sophie’s eyes flicked automatically to the staircase, but she knew that Jade would be sound asleep.

      ‘OK.’ Katherine shrugged and watched as Sophie brought two mugs of coffee over to the table and resumed her place. ‘But I think you’re wrong. You’re beautiful, Soph. And I don’t mean beautiful with the help of bottles of hair dye and face paint. But you still insist on burying yourself here.’

      ‘You’re here. I haven’t exactly seen you rushing out to the train station to purchase a one-way ticket to London.’

      ‘Point taken.’ She grinned, and Sophie felt herself relax a little.

      At least the evening hadn’t ended on a sour note. She would have hated to fall out with Katherine. They had been friends since the days of Barbie dolls and pretend teddy-bear picnics but, even so, the subject of Alan was still too raw to be discussed openly, and normally Katherine respected her reticence.

      Later, after Katherine had gone and Sophie had checked on her daughter, she stood in her bedroom and thought about what she had said about Alan. All lies. She wasn’t happy. At least, not in the sense of waking up each morning and being filled with the sheer joy of living.

      She only really felt that way when she looked at Jade, but most of the time it was as if she were wrapped up in a blanket of vague unhappiness. Sometimes she could shake it and a waft of joyous air would blow in, like when she had watched Jade’s first nativity play at school last Christmas, but pretty soon the blanket would settle back around her body, never quite strangling her but never quite letting go.

      How could she explain all that to Katherine? Katherine felt that divorces happened in their millions and that she, Sophie, was lucky at least to have had the dubious privilege of being married to a rich man who had made sure that she was more than generously compensated. How to explain the belittling circumstances behind the divorce? How to explain the way her precious self-esteem had been battered so thoroughly that it had been impossible to revive it?

      She turned and in the half-light of the bedroom she looked at herself fully in the mirror to see the face and body which should supposedly have brought her happiness and fulfilment. She saw flaming red hair which curled down to her waist, large, translucent green eyes, a small, straight nose and full lips. She had no need to strip to see the length of her legs, the slightness of her waist, her full bust.

      She looked at herself with no affection. If her looks hadn’t been quite so dramatic Alan would never have noticed her, and if he had never noticed her then her life might have been different—better. Thank goodness for Jade, she thought, turning away. One good thing had come out of that mire of unpleasantness.

      Was it any wonder that the thought of attracting another man, of putting her body on show, filled her with revulsion?

      That, at least, was one good thing about living in a tightly knit, small community. The men were all accounted for. The occasional unrecognised face might pass through, and when Annabel and her cronies descended from London to rest and recuperate in their parents’ country houses they invariably brought their chums back with them, but their few party invitations to her had been politely refused. Yes, here she felt safe.

      When, a few weeks later, Katherine announced to her that Gregory Wallace was, indeed, moving to Ashdown the information barely made an impact on her. As far as she could see, whether he lived in Ashdown or Timbuktu would make zero difference to her lifestyle.

      ‘And I’ve met him!’ Katherine squealed, over a cup of coffee in the newly opened coffee-shop next to the post office on the high street.

      ‘Good for you,’ Sophie said warmly. ‘And would you say that you’re a better person for the experience?’ That provoked a warning glare.

      ‘He’s gorgeous.’

      ‘Oh, really, In that case, the locals will probably be eating out of his hand within hours. Annabel and Caroline and the Stennor twins will, no doubt, take up permanent residence here. Where is the gorgeous saviour of our little village going to live?’

      ‘He’s bought Ashdown House.’

      ‘Ashdown House?’ Sophie sat up and frowned. ‘I thought that old Mrs Frank was determined never to leave the place?’

      ‘Well, she did. She’s relocated to the cottage on the lane, and work begins on the place next week.’

      ‘He must have some powers of persuasion.’

      ‘Absolutely.’ Katherine sighed and Sophie shot her an irritated look. ‘Along with some very persuasive looks and a bank balance to match. And please don’t jump onto your money-isn’t-everything soap box. Play your cards right and he might prove to be a hefty benefactor to help your charity.’

      ‘I have no intention of running to a perfect stranger with cap in hand, begging,’ Sophie said sharply. Her charity work was a labour of love, and she wasn’t about to join the queue of people desperate to meet the wonderful Gregory Mr Fix-it so that they could squeeze something out of him. In fact, she found the whole charade surrounding his arrival faintly disgusting. At the library, where she worked, all the old biddies were full of stories of Gregory Wallace and his no-expense-spared renovations of Ashdown House.

      ‘No, I haven’t met the man,’ Sophie had repeated on a number of occasions. Now she had to stop herself from yawning whenever his name was mentioned.

      She would doubtless bump into him one day. In Ashdown it was impossible not to bump into your fellow residents on a fairly regular basis, and she was pretty certain that she would recognise him, even though sightings, according to Katherine, had been limited over the past few weeks as autumn began to creep into winter and thoughts turned to Christmas, mince pies and Santa Claus.

      ‘Maybe now that the house is finished he’s become bored with his little plaything and has decided to switch his allegiances back to London,’ Sophie told her, grinning as her friend shook her head and left the library with a theatrical sigh of frustration.

      At this hour, nearly five in the afternoon, it was already dark outside and the library was virtually empty. In a minute she would leave to collect Jade from her child-minder, who had her after school on the two full days that Sophie worked, and they might start work on some Christmas decorations.

      In a few days’ time a large, extravagantly expensive gift would arrive from Jade’s father in New York and in due course it would take up residence under their tree. It was the same routine every year—the present, the thank-you note to the man about whom her daughter never enquired. He had had no part in her life and Jade, only five years old, had not yet started asking questions. That would come later.

      Sophie was getting ready to leave, filing away her paperwork into the drawer behind the desk, when she looked up and saw someone standing just inside the door to the library. Because most of the lights in the place had already been switched off, the figure was in shadow and her heart gave a leap of pure fear.

      ‘My hand,’ Sophie said in a clear voice, which reverberated around the empty library and had the instant effect of making her feel like a heroine in a third-rate detective movie, ‘is on the telephone. If you take one step closer I assure you that I’ll phone the police and they’ll be here before you can so much as blink an eye.’

      Whoever he was, he was tall and powerfully built. His outline told her that much. She could feel her heart thumping madly in her chest and she hoped to heaven that should she have to call the СКАЧАТЬ