In the Moors by Nina Milton Read Free Book Online Page A

his tongue. When his image began to fade, I opened my eyes because I was so sick to lose the sight of him.
    I had not known right then, but this was the strongest spirit world experience I’d had up until that point. I’d only begun to suspect anything at all, when, the following October, Philip once again drove me up to Bangor. The Howells had sent me a get-well card, promising to keep my room open until I made it. It was Bren who opened the door to my knock when we arrived.
    â€œSabbie!” he exclaimed and gave me a beaming smile—big gap between his front teeth and a gleam of gold at the back.

FIVE
    Harold Street is a narrow road filled with ex–local authority houses, built almost sixty years back in pairs. I’m the corner house, so I’ve got the biggest plot. There’s actually room for a garage—somewhere I could put Mini Ha Ha, my dependable little car, instead of leaving her out on the road at night where she’s all exposed and vulnerable. But no chance of that—my landlord’s understanding of property improvement is a splash of cheap white paint each time someone new moves in.
    Three years ago, this garden was nothing but a mass of unkempt grass, and the only things that grew out of it were rusting motorcycle parts. I’ve spent hours getting it how I want it. My front door is on the side wall, so that’s where I laid enough flagstones to call a patio and put my patio table and chairs. There’s a spinster’s hanky lawn behind it and flower borders on each side of the path leading to the front gate. When I sit on my patio, I can see everyone walking up and down the street … and they can see me clearly over my low brick wall. So many neighbours gatecrashed last summer’s parties that I thought about offering games and rides for ticket sales.
    The things I’d bought at the boot sale were pulling at my arm sockets by the time I’d finished my mile walk home. I dug into my jacket pocket for keys as I sauntered down the side path. I was deep in thought, trying to work out just what impression I’d left on Rey. A brainless smile was hovering over my lips as I became aware of someone leaning on the side of my porch, and I returned to the real world with a bang.
    â€œIvan! What are you doing here?”
    â€œWaiting for you,” said Ivan. He threw his half-smoked cigarette onto the path and twisted his left shoe over it several times. “Couldn’t work out where you’d gone this early on a Sunday.”
    â€œCar boot.” I lifted my bags as if pumping iron with them.
    Ivan stared for several seconds. “You do have some odd hobbies.”
    â€œWhy didn’t you phone?”
    â€œThought I’d surprise you.”
    â€œCongrats, you succeeded.”
    â€œYou were daydreaming about something, that’s for sure. Hope it was me.”
    I dumped my boot sale booty in the porch but didn’t go so far as to open the door. “Actually, Ivan, I didn’t know where I stood with you when you left yesterday. I was wondering if I’d see you again.”
    He grinned. “Babe! You take life way too seriously.”
    â€œI do?”
    He slid his arms around my waist, catching his kiss on the corner of my mouth. I put my hands gently on the sides of his face, and closed my eyes. Ivan’s not the sort to drop a butterfly kiss. He starts out with full passion overdrive and moves up the scale. On Friday night that was a real turn-on, but something had gone missing. I shifted my mouth to his ear and whispered in it. “I’d love to do this, Ivan, but I can’t, not right now.”
    â€œ ’Course you can.”
    â€œI have to get ready for a client.”
    He began nuzzling at my neck. I could feel his teeth pretend to bite, sharp as a puppy’s. “Don’t you ever take a break?”
    â€œNot if I want to pay the rent.”
    â€œRing them up and cancel, sweetheart.