Just Like a Woman by Madeleine Clark Read Free Book Online

squirm away from him, he held tighter, his knee dug deep into her arm refusing to let it go. Fucking little bitch, playing him along. The palm of his hand pushed and bruised her breast. He tasted the metallic taste of blood in his mouth. She managed to pull her head from his.
    ‘You’re hurting me,’ she cried.

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    Chapter Three
    S arah felt an unusual feeling of anticipation on her way to Stephanie’s office. She felt an unfamiliar sensation of excitement. Should she broach the subject of Robert? Should she wait for Stephanie to bring the subject up? By the time she actually arrived at the office all she managed to do was confuse herself and when she was sitting in the client’s chair she kept her mouth closed, deciding she would follow Stephanie’s lead. She wouldn’t mention the phone call about meeting Robert until Stephanie did. She would let Stephanie have control. It was easier, she didn’t have to think about it.
    Sarah had finally recalled where she had seen his name; Robert D’Lyn was the subject of an article in one of her precious magazines, kept hidden from her mother, who naturally thought they were a waste of money and told her often enough; anyone with half an ounce of sense would never read them anyway. Because her mother kept a check of all of Sarah’s spending and controlled her money as much as she could, Sarah stole the magazines from work.
    The magazines, donated to the surgery by patients and people like Stephanie, who could afford to purchase new editions for their clinics, were usually months old, some of them years old. Sarah didn’t mind how old they were, she found them so informative. They gave her a glimpse of another kind of world; of another kind of life. They were another route for escape, helping her retreat from her own life, giving her such hope for something better. And she kept a couple of them in her bedroom to read late at night when her mother was comfortably asleep. For all her nosiness and interference her mother refused to do housework, or any kind of work; she was above all that. Sarah did not consider this a fault in her mother, but rather one of her more endearing qualities, because it gave Sarah the only bit of freedom in the house.
    Lying on her bed, she searched through the magazines for the article. She read it several times until she knew it by heart. Robert D’Lyn was a gifted guitar player, he had played in several bands before forming the Bob Dylan Tribute. Now the tribute band had taken off, causing Robert to become semi-famous in the last few years. So much so, the article hinted this as the reason for his wife’s departure. There was only a fleeting reference to her. She obviously was not much of a wife, Sarah thought. She wanted a photograph or description, something to give her an idea of what his wife had been like. Because according to the article, Robert had it all; talent, money and looks. His wife must have been rather stupid, Sarah decided, to leave such a man; he looked really sweet; and she was going to go out with him.
    The article concentrated on Robert’s rise to fame from his East End background and mentioned his real name was Michael White. She tested the feel of Michael on her tongue. Michael. Michael. Or maybe he liked to be called Mike? No Mike didn’t sound right. Perhaps Mick? Studying the attached photographs, she tried to imagine what he would be like. He didn’t look like a Mick. She searched his face, did he look like a Robert? Or a Rob? Or a Bob? Not a Bob. Definitely not a Bob. But he could be a Rob. Yes, Rob was a nice name. Better than Mike, even better than Michael.
    The article said he was 35, although the photos made him look older. But if the article said he was 35 then he must be 35. Sarah turned back to the cover of the magazine, it was over a year old. 36. That was a good age, she decided. He wasn’t too much older than her. Anyway, a man should always be older than the woman. She found it fascinating to read about all