Dastardly Deeds by Ilsa Evans Read Free Book Online

about Ashley and the fact they had kept it from me, but also by the light-hearted way Deb had delivered it. As if I was prone to overreaction and any normal person would be absolutely fine with their ex-boyfriend and his current partner joining them on a cruise. Along with her ex-husband and
his
current partner, of course. I decided to send Lew an email when I got back to my cabin, letting him know the names of the two guys I had gone out with before meeting Darcy. Perhaps he would like to look them up and invite them, along with their significant others, to join us on the cruise. Why go for half measures? After all, in for a penny, in for a bloody pound.

Chapter 5
    I am writing because I have a problem and you seem to know lots of stuff. About 70 years ago I used to eat fish and chips wrapped in newspaper. All kids did then but I notice they don’t use newspaper any more. Is there a health reason? I ask because lately I’ve been feeling a little off and I think it might be connected.
    Sympathy from my sister was in short supply. She was heartily amused by the situation. This was probably fuelled by the fact she quite liked Ashley and felt that I hadn’t negotiated hard enough for a ‘friends with benefits’ relationship. She was wrong. I would have loved our relationship to continue but it hadn’t been an option. Not on my terms anyway.
    Mid-afternoon we settled in a pair of deckchairs on the upper deck, with a view of the sea on one side and the pool on the other. That was where we remained for the rest of the day and much of the evening. After two generous scotches, I began to see the humour in my situation also. It was the sort of thing you saw on a television sitcom and thought, ‘Well,
that
wouldn’t happen.’ I shared this insight with Petra, who then derived a great deal of enjoyment from calling ‘Action!’ every so often. We got some odd looks, plus a few hopeful ones from men who thought she was making a request rather than a comment.
    At dinnertime, instead of going to the restaurant, we treated the buffet as a takeaway and returned to the deckchairs. The only alteration was the move from scotch to wine. Others joined us briefly from time to time. Quinn and Griffin, holding hands self-consciously; Enid Hurley, in a floral muumuu; Deb and Phoebe, on their way to the gym; Lyn Russo, taking a promenade in her finery before attending the formal meal; and Lew, with an apology posy that looked suspiciously like it might have been a table centrepiece.
    Mostly, though, we just talked, catching up on each other’s lives. Relationships, family, inertia, aspirations. When the evening turned cool, we moved to the balcony off our room, wrapped in complimentary candlewick dressing-gowns. From there we could just hear the music floating from the piano bar and just see the white water churning along the side of the ship, far below. The tranquillity was as intoxicating as the wine. I hadn’t felt this content for a long time.
    The following day continued in the same vein. Starting with breakfast in bed, delicious in every way apart from the coffee, and followed by a trip to the health spa, where Ruby, Petra and I were pampered with a facial, massage, manicure and pedicure. In a way it would have been the perfect time to talk things over with Ruby, but even the thought seemed to clash with our surroundings. The indulgence was almost overwhelming. Real life was miles away, not just a different continent but a different world. The day rolled on, with a gentle cadence that was reminiscent of the sea itself.
    That evening I visited the restaurant for the first time. Crystal and silver and gleaming white porcelain, chandeliers sparkling above burgundy carpets, wine waiters and service waiters and a maître d’ who was everywhere at once. Our group had been allocated a large table that overlooked a sweeping staircase. I could see Deb and her friends at a smaller table on the lower floor. The restaurant was only half full,