Naked Truths by Jo Carnegie Read Free Book Online Page A

estates and Mercedes lined each side of Guinevere Road, like two presidential fleets. Caro paused to get her bearings. It
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pretty round here, she reflected, admiring the regal porches flanked by stone pillars, and wrought iron railings. A thundering could be heard overhead, and as Caro looked up she could see blue sky streaked with the fading white lines of Heathrow-bound aeroplanes.
    A few minutes later, the pair found themselves at a T-junction on to a main road. Red double-decker buses sat bumper to bumper with 4×4s and black taxis. Lean, Lycra-clad bike couriers wove dangerously fast in and out of the traffic, while a man in a pinstriped suit zoomed past on a trendy-looking silver Vespa.
    â€˜Taxi!’ shouted a male voice.
    The cab swung into the kerb next to Caro. She stepped back as someone dived past her. ‘Sorry,’ said the man, as he pulled open the door and jumped in.
    â€˜No problem,’ Caro started to say, but the cab was already pulling off as the lights turned green, leaving her standing in a cloud of exhaust fumes.
    A few minutes later, they’d reached a row of shops. Mouth-watering smells floated out of an organic bakery where candy-coloured cakes were piled high, while next door was an upmarket wedding shop with a bejewelled corset magically suspended in the window, surrounded by the biggest vases of pink lilies Caro had ever seen.
    Resisting the urge to go in the bakery and buy a box of muffins, Caro spotted a café up the road where people were sitting outside enjoying an alfresco lunch. Even better, there was a free table. Picking up speed on the pushchair, she hurried over.
    Several minutes later a chic French waitress came to take their order. Feeling positively cosmopolitan, Caro decided to throw caution to the winds and ordered a glass of wine. Milo was entranced with his picture book about tigers, and he and his mother sat in companionable silence until their lunch arrived.
    Afterwards, as spaghetti-full Milo dozed off in his chair, Caro took the opportunity to people-watch. Everyone looked very stylish, but they seemed in such a rush to get somewhere, she thought, as passers-by hurried past with their heads down or talking loudly into their mobile phones. An Amazonian woman, her caramel-blonde hair flying behind her, cycled past on an old-fashioned bicycle with a little boy strapped into a child’s seat. Caro’s heart jumped: she could have sworn it was Elle Macpherson! She was sure she’d read in
OK!
magazine the supermodel lived round here. Wait until she told her mother, a glossy magazine devotee, about her new star-studded neighbourhood.
    Caro smiled as she imagined Tink’s reaction, but her excitement was suddenly replaced by a stab of loneliness. How was she ever going to fit in with celebrities and supermodels? At that moment Milo burped contentedly, waking himself up. Caro took the opportunity to catch the waitress’s eye and get the bill, and they began to make their way back to Montague Mews.
    As she walked back into the courtyard, Caro saw a flash of movement from an upstairs window. The mysterious Rowena! She looked up expectantly, but the barred panes of glass stared blankly back. Caro noticed a security camera high on the house. It seemed to be trained right on her . . . Trying to shake off the uncomfortable thought that she was under surveillance, Caro unlocked her new front door.
    Five minutes later, she was cajoling Milo out of his tomato-stained T-shirt when the phone rang.
    â€˜What ho, Mrs Towey!’
    â€˜Harriet!’
    Caro felt ridiculously happy to hear the familiar voice.
    â€˜How are you all settling in? I must come round soon to see you all, your new place sounds fabulous.’ There was the sound of drilling in the background.
    â€˜We’d love that!’ said Caro. ‘It’s so nice you’re practically round the corner.’ The drilling got louder. ‘Goodness, are you on a building site or