His Convenient Mistress by Cathy Williams Read Free Book Online Page A

pollution, air pollution and having to make do with window-boxes in place of a garden had never seemed more enticing.
    â€˜Houses!’
    â€˜At last,’ Sara muttered. They had passed a few big old houses on the journey but these were real houses with realroads that did real things, like branch out in various directions. ‘I was beginning to think that we had been transported into the Twilight Zone.’
    â€˜What’s the Twilight Zone?’
    â€˜Should we just drive straight through here until we get to a proper town,’ Sara mused aloud, ‘or face it?’
    â€˜I’m thirsty.’
    â€˜Then I guess we’ll face it.’
    The local village turned out to be bigger than she had expected. Not quite the cluster of basic shops, leaning shoulder-to-shoulder against one another so that the owners could while away their time gossiping outside. The flat white fronts and grey stone facdes of the houses, which sprang out from the main street, eventually gave way to small shops offering everything from fly-fishing equipment to guided tours. Further along Sara came to the central square, dominated by a statue of whose identity she had no idea, although his warrior-like bearing didn’t suggest the local poet. Cars were neatly parked in slots in front of the monument and spreading around the square was a further assortment of shops, bigger and less picturesque than their counterparts further down the road.
    She pulled into a parking space, manoeuvering her small black car until it was resting snugly between a four-wheel-drive on one side and weathered pick-up truck on the other.
    â€˜Right,’ she said, fetching Simon out of the car and looking around her with some interest. ‘We can get lost here.’
    â€˜Why would we want to get lost?’ he asked in a bewildered voice, and she squeezed his hand gently.
    â€˜It’s just a saying. Now, where first? Supermarket? Quaint craft shop with hand-knitted jumpers? Pharmacy to check out the medicines for you just in case you get another chest infection. Or maybe just an ice cream before we start doing anything at all?’
    This wasn’t going to be as bad as she had feared, Sara thought as they headed for the nearest tea shop. She wouldn’t quite be able to lose herself here, but at least she wouldn’t be singled out as the intruder who had gone to live at the Rectory. Perhaps, she told herself, she could see this as a sort of short holiday. Stay until the middle of August, perhaps, admit the mistake she had made and then head back down south with her tail between her legs. They wouldn’t have to return to London. They could live somewhere just outside, somewhere as peaceful as this place without being quite as scarily remote.
    She was so busy turning her thoughts over in her head that she failed to notice the significant hush that greeted her breezy entrance into the shop.
    She focused and then saw what she had missed when she had first entered, with Simon jabbering away about what flavour ice cream he wanted while she frowningly chewed over thoughts of flight in her head.
    All heads were turned in their direction. A table of six elderly women seemed particularly interested. Even the ruddy-cheeked, fresh-faced girl behind the counter had stopped what she had been doing to stare.
    Sara ventured a weak smile, her eyes skittering away from the gang of six sitting by the window with their cups of tea and little delicate plates of scones and cream.
    â€˜A table?’ she asked in a lame voice. ‘For two?’ She could hardly believe that she was the same assertive woman who had once been a powerful career woman.
    â€˜You must be the new girl at the Rectory!’ The booming voice stopped her in her tracks and forced her to look across at the six women. ‘We’ve all been dying to meet you! Have we not, ladies?’
    â€˜Come, my dear, and let us have a proper look at you and your delightful little