Each Way Bet by Ilsa Evans Read Free Book Online Page A

run, she had made her excuses and left. On the way home she had purchased not just the cargo pants but also a lovely little ribbed tank-top and a new pair of Bolle sunglasses. Then, on the spur of the moment, she decided to buy some delicacies for a Melbourne Cup bash platter that would impress even Corinne. Perhaps. So a stop at a deli provided some deliciouslooking sour cream crispy rye crackers, an array of gourmet cheeses and a dollop of hommus, while the fruit and veggie store next door contributed an avocado and a handful of cherry tomatoes for colour. Emily wasn’t sure yet how all these were going to come together, but she was confident something would occur to her.
    It was nearly four by the time Emily reached her building, and the Fitzroy traffic was starting to build up with the standard peak hour early shift. Keeping pace with the increase in traffic, the footpaths were slowly being transformed from a place to stroll and leisurely check out racks set up outside shops, to a push and shove battle to keep to the left and avoid being elbowed into the road. Where one would no doubt promptly be plastered onto the front of an oncoming tram and then fined for not having a valid ticket.
    But as soon as she manoeuvred herself and her bags over her threshold and shut the front door securely behind her, all the outside noise was cut off as if by magic. Emily leant against the wall for a moment, feeling almost spooked by the sudden surge of silence. Instead of being invigorating, the stillness felt deadening and heavy, like it had sucked some of the oxygen out of the room and affected the gravity. For a brief moment she deeply regretted leaving the little party by the Yarra so early and had to remind herself exactly how bored she’d been feeling by the time she’d left. Which didn’t help much now that she was faced with an evening of boredom here. At least by the Yarra there had been visual stimulation and a chance to improve her marksmanship. Accordingly, Emily felt a strong urge to dump her purchases and immediately retrace her steps.
    Instead of giving in to her urges, which seemed destined to frustration today anyhow, Emily took her bags into the kitchen and unpacked them. The deli purchases went into the fridge for transformation at a later time and the avocado andcherry tomatoes tumbled into the fruit bowl, to join a lonely looking banana and a brownish-black apple. Emily regarded the mixture for a minute, then fished out the apple and, opening the cupboard door under the sink, drop-kicked it into the stainless-steel rubbish-bin within.
    The phone rang just as she was taking her non-perishable purchases up the stairs to her bedroom, so she dropped them halfway up and jumped down the stairs two at a time to answer it. As she plucked the handset out of its cradle, Emily experienced a brief surge of hope it was Tim on the other end, having second thoughts about company for the evening – perhaps even having decided he was ready to throw his virginity to the wind. Or, if not Tim and/or the promise of sex, just about anybody would do – as long as they were ringing with an invitation for the evening.
    ‘Hello?’
    ‘You’re home! What a surprise!’
    ‘Jilly!’ Emily dropped down onto the couch and curled her legs up. ‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’
    ‘Have you heard from Corinne?’
    ‘God, no,’ said Emily with feeling.
    ‘Oh.’ Jill sounded disappointed. ‘Well, have you checked your phone messages?’
    ‘Hang on.’ Emily leant over to look at the display panel of the answering machine. ‘There’s a few. Why, what’s she after?’
    ‘You’ll never guess,’ Jill groaned. ‘Go on – guess.’
    ‘Must I?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Okay . . .’ Emily closed her eyes and tried to think the way her eldest sister would. Surely, she reasoned, she’d seen enough episodes starring FBI profilers to have learnt something somewhere. So she imagined herself with Corinne’s dark-green eyes instead of her own