Country Wives by Rebecca Shaw Read Free Book Online Page A

“Do you know that’s the first time I’ve laughed today.”
    “Why’s that?” Mia finished putting things away in the fridge and sat down to listen.
    “It’s not the same without Scott: no jokes, no pulling silly faces at the windows, no flirting.”
    “I’m sorry you miss him so.” Mia laid a hand on Kate’s cheek, with a loving look on her thin face, her eyes kindly andfull of sympathy. “This Dan Brown’s a miserable so-and-so, is he?”
    “Oh! No. He’s not, but nobody but me likes him. They all think he’s too blunt, too up front with his opinions, and what none of them likes is he’s lost us a good client, and that is bad news.”
    “It must be.”
    “But worst of all it seems Lynne’s abandoned us. She was sent home to lunch early because of a row with Joy about Dan Brown and didn’t come back—no phone call, no nothing. What makes matters even worse is that Colin’s wife, Letty, has insisted she’ll come in tomorrow to help out if Lynne doesn’t turn up.”
    “What’s happened to Stephie, then?”
    “On holiday for three weeks, a family wedding in New Zealand. We are grateful for Letty’s help.”
    “So what’s the problem?”
    “You should have seen Joy’s face when Colin told her. I didn’t need to ask what she thought of the idea. She tried hard to sound enthusiastic, but it rang very hollow. She said afterward to me that she’d be praying like mad tonight for Lynne to come in because she couldn’t stand Letty. She must be difficult, because Joy is always so loyal about people. It’s not like her to talk about someone that way.”
    “I like Joy; she’s nice. She might do better, might this Letty, than you think. Keep an open mind.”
    “I will.” Kate idly rearranged the tiny flowers Mia had put in a bowl in the middle of the table and then said, “I’ve upset Dad. He said it seemed like a miracle to him when I was born, so I asked him what my mother thought of me, and he couldn’t answer. That’s why he’s upstairs with his trains.”
    Mia sighed. She spotted a flower in danger of falling out of the bowl and pushed it back in. “I’d better go see. Put the kettleon; I’m parched. He never speaks of her to me, so …” She got up from the table and began to climb to the attic.
    She found Gerry engrossed in rearranging the figures standing on the main platform. With a Q-tip he was meticulously cleaning a porter pushing a trolley, intense concentration on his face, not noticing her arrival. It was a magnificent layout, with trees and station buildings, sidings and signal boxes, passengers and rolling stock, parcels waiting to be loaded, ticket office open, sandwich board announcing a day trip to the sea next Saturday—minute detail lovingly and painstakingly worked upon by a real enthusiast. Zooming round a wide curve at the far edge of the layout was the Flying Scotsman hurtling toward the station.
    “It’s me.”
    Gerry looked up, startled. “Sorry. Didn’t hear you. What do you want?”
    “In the best of all possible worlds your wife would like you to come clean with Kate about her mother. There. I’ve said it.”
    Gerry didn’t answer.
    “I mean it, Gerry.”
    He bent to replace the porter, and his knuckles collided with the Flying Scotsman as it dashed by. It shot up in the air and crashed down on the signal box farther down the line.
    “Damn and blast! Now look what you’ve made me do. It’s all your fault.”
    “No, Gerry, it’s yours. You should have told her years ago. She’s reached an age when she needs to know; and I can’t tell her because I never met the woman, did I?”
    Gerry tenderly picked up the engine and examined it. He appeared engrossed and Mia thought she’d lost the initiative, but suddenly he answered her. “How can I tell her that her mother walked out on her, a defenseless, helpless babe? What’s that going to do to her?”
    “Sometimes, however hard it is, it’s better to face the truth. After all, it isn’t as if