Broken Rainbows by Catrin Collier Read Free Book Online Page B

brief hello before diving through the door that led to her private quarters, closing it quickly lest she be roped in to help out. Running up the stairs she stopped and sniffed the air.
    â€˜The lady of the house returns.’
    â€˜I thought I could smell paint.’
    Alexander Forbes, a former university lecturer, museum curator and conscientious objector who’d been conscripted to work in the pits, was standing in her living room dressed in a pair of khaki overalls, a brush in one hand, a pot of paint in the other. ‘You said you wanted to brighten the place up.’
    â€˜How did you get in?’ Kicking off her shoes, she tossed her coat over the banisters.
    â€˜I told Freda you’d asked me to decorate the living room. She took quite a bit of convincing.’
    â€˜I’ve given her strict instructions not to let anyone up here when I’m at work.’
    â€˜Blame me, not her. I can be very persuasive.’
    â€˜Not that I’ve noticed. Why aren’t you working?’
    â€˜Even “bloody conchies” get a day off now and again.’ Setting the tin on the dustsheet he’d laid over the lino and square of carpet, he stamped on the lid.
    â€˜I thought paint was rarer than bananas these days.’ Jenny stepped tentatively forward, checking the cloth around her feet for paint splotches before examining the walls.
    â€˜I asked Ronnie Ronconi. He knew a man …’
    â€˜Ronnie always knows a man. If you’re not careful you’ll find yourself standing in the dock alongside him charged with black-marketeering.’ She glanced back at him as she walked around the room. He’d gone to a lot of trouble, and done a first-class job of covering the walls. Suddenly aware that she hadn’t even thanked him, she added, ‘You’ve certainly brightened the place up. Wherever did you get a light shade of green like this?’
    â€˜If you must know it’s institution paint mixed with white.’
    â€˜It’s worked. I can’t see a trace of the pattern on the wallpaper.’
    â€˜You did say you were tired of overblown roses.’ He eyed her warily, uncertain whether to expect gratitude or an outburst for invading her privacy. He adored Jenny, every delectable, beautiful inch of her body and every erratic, unpredictable facet of her sharp, intelligent mind, but he wasn’t too besotted to realise that he loved her far more than she did him.
    â€˜I was,’ she answered carelessly. ‘And now, I suppose you’ll expect me to show some appreciation?’
    â€˜That would be nice.’
    Unpinning her hat, she threw it on to the sideboard before walking through to the kitchen. Wiping his hands on his overalls, Alexander followed.
    â€˜Finished for the day?’ she asked as he lifted an empty jam jar from the windowsill and filled it with turpentine.
    â€˜I thought I’d finished the job.’
    â€˜What about the skirting boards and doors?’
    â€˜The stain’s sound enough, it just needs a good clean.’
    â€˜You volunteering?’ She filled the kettle and lit the gas.
    â€˜I could do it on my next day off’ Waiting until she moved away from the sink he pulled a bar of sugar soap from his pocket and began scrubbing his hands under the cold tap. ‘I don’t suppose …’
    â€˜What?’
    â€˜Never mind.’
    â€˜Alexander Forbes, you can be the most infuriating man.’
    â€˜I wondered if my next day off might coincide with yours?’
    â€˜I doubt it.’
    â€˜If you tell me when it is, I could swap shifts.’ Checking his hands to make sure they were clean, he dried them on a rag he’d tucked into his pocket. ‘I didn’t just bring paint with me this morning. I also managed to get a bottle of whisky. Real whisky.’ He closed his hands around her waist.
    â€˜You’ll get me all messy.’
    â€˜I’ve cleaned up.’ Bending