Barefoot in the Dark by Lynne Barrett-Lee Read Free Book Online Page A

had lost her trainer and he’d found it and picked it up and Madeleine – who was the boss there, apparently – had come up with the idea that it being a trainer and their fun run being, well, a fun run, the two things went rather well together and this would be a perfect opportunity to get someone big-league on side, and perhaps some sustained radio coverage in the build up, and therefore more in the way of sponsorship perhaps than they would otherwise, and… and…
    ‘And… well,’ she said at last, grinding to a halt and still slightly pink around the cheekbones. ‘That’s me. Dig me a hole and I’ll fall in it for you.’ She laughed again, this time in a less voluble and rather pleasingly embarrassed way. And Jack knew at that moment that he had the upper hand. He hadn’t articulated to himself how or when having the upper hand in this encounter was going to benefit him specifically, just that not being on the back foot in a conversation with a member of the opposite sex – and one in black suede boots, moreover – was an exceedingly pleasant position to find himself in.
    ‘So,’ he said, clasping his hands together on the table and smiling benignly at her. ‘What do you want me to do, exactly?’
    Jack had, in the last two years, opened a village fête, an out-of-town designer outlet mall, a school science block (though that didn’t really count, as it was Ollie’s school), a dog training outfit and a garden centre. Oh, and he’d given a speech at the Cougar’s prize-giving evening, but that didn’t count either, as it was Ollie’s football team. Hardly an illustrious list, particularly given that five years and a morning slot earlier, he had been receiving requests to do such things almost weekly. Still, a fun run was a first.
    She was consulting the handwritten list on the table in front of her. There were a row of little squiggled asterisks acting as bullet points down the side of the page.
    ‘We were rather hoping,’ she said, ‘that we could get you on board. We’re going to be producing the publicity material soon – you know, the flyers and sponsorship forms and so on?’ Jack nodded to indicate that he did. ‘And we’d love it if we could put a picture of you on the front, with a quote, perhaps – you know, that sort of thing. Valentine. Hearts. And… well. Hmm. Anyway. Obviously I don’t know where the BBC would stand on things financially, but, I mean, we really are the bottom of the heap as far as charities go – heart disease just isn’t sexy, I’m afraid – and they do do Children in Need, don’t they, so they wouldn’t have any objection to supporting the event through your show, would they?’ Jack said he didn’t think they would. ‘And there’s the event itself, of course. We’re pencilled in for an early evening start, but that’s still negotiable. I mean, we’d be anxious to fit in with whatever suits you best. Assuming you’d be… well. That’s about the size of it.’ She smiled hopefully at him.
    ‘I’ll have to think about it. Check my schedule and so on,’ he said. ‘But that all sounds do-able on the face of it.’
    ‘Does it?’ She looked pleased. ‘And we’d like you to present the prizes and so on.’
    He nodded.
    She’d got to the end of her list by now and was just folding it up when the waiter brought their starters. The polo-necked top had turned out to be a dress. A soft, short thing – there were several inches of leg between the hem and the boots – which was unadorned bar a thin gold chain necklace with a chunky ring hanging from it.
    She wasn’t twenty-seven, she wasn’t blonde, she wasn’t leggy. On the other hand, Jack found himself musing as he studied her, she was rather pretty. And she was rather sweet too. ‘So,’ he said, this time with absolute conviction. ‘How long have you been divorced?’
    ‘Oh God oh God oh God’ said Hope, pulling off a boot. ‘What a prat.’
    ‘Was he? I always thought –’
    ‘Not