One More Sleepless Night by Lucy King Read Free Book Online Page B

mention an insanely frustrating one.’
    There was a certain amount of logic to that, Nicky supposed, and frankly what did she know about how families worked? ‘Do they often ask you for advice?’
    ‘They’ve learned not to,’ he said darkly, and rose to head over to the grill to flip the steaks.
    ‘Well, I don’t know about the others, of course,’ she said, remembering the long conversations during which Gaby had bemoaned her brother’s lack of emotional support, ‘but I think Gaby might appreciate being able to ask from time to time.’
    Rafael turned and shot her a humourless smile. ‘Gaby’s the worst. She once asked me for advice years ago, which I gave her. She didn’t take it and when things didn’t work out she still blamed me.’
    ‘Oh.’ That Gaby had failed to mention. ‘What happened?’
    ‘You’ll have to ask her. How long have you known her?’ he said, coming back to the table and reaching for the bottle that sat in the middle of it.
    ‘Two years.’
    He poured her some more wine. ‘Well, wait another thirty and then you’ll see.’
    ‘I’ll bear it in mind.’
    ‘How did you meet anyway?’
    ‘She lives next door to me.’
    His eyebrows lifted as he topped up his own glass, then sat down. ‘In Paris?’
    ‘That’s right.’
    ‘Yet you’re British.’
    And Gaby was Spanish. So what? ‘It’s a great place to be based for the work I do,’ she said, and told herself she really had to stop being so absurdly defensive. ‘And yes, technically I’m British but I prefer to think of myself as a citizen of the world.’
    He shot her a quizzical glance. ‘Rootless?’
    Hmm. Nicky tilted her head and pondered the question. She was certainly free and footloose. But rootless? She’d never really thought of it like that, but maybe Rafael was right because she’d been on the move for as long as she could remember.
    Her parents had travelled extensively throughout her childhood—and still did—and she’d always gone with them wherever they’d been. As a result she’d never really had a base. She’d certainly never had a family home, or, come to think of it, a home of her own since. Even the flat she lived in now, with its minimalist décor and sparse furniture and general air of transience, was rented.
    In fact the most permanent thing in her life was the suitcase she’d lived out of for the last ten years, a suitcase that was extremely well travelled and very battered but hanging in there. A bit like her, really.
    ‘Perhaps,’ she said, dragging her thoughts back on track and coming to the conclusion that Rafael wasright about her lack of roots. ‘And delighted to be so,’ she added firmly, because that was about the only thing about her that hadn’t changed in the last six months and it seemed important to remember it.
    ‘Really?’
    She nodded. ‘Absolutely. I get itchy feet if I hang around in one place for too long. And the idea of staying in one place permanently...’ She shuddered. ‘Talk about stifling.’
    ‘How come?’
    ‘A by-product of my upbringing, I imagine.’
    ‘Which was?’
    ‘Internationally varied. My parents are anthropologists. They were—and actually still are—always heading off to investigate long lost tribes and things in far-flung places, and more often than not I accompanied them.’ She paused and tilted her head. ‘Remember that winning photo I took?’
    Rafael nodded.
    ‘It was of a Yanomami child. The Yanomami live in the Amazon rainforest,’ she added in response to the quizzical look on his face. ‘I was nine when I took it and it wasn’t my first time in Brazil either. In fact, by the time I went to boarding school at the age of eleven, I’d got through three passports.’
    ‘You’ve had an exciting life.’
    She shrugged and felt her smile fade because lately it hadn’t seemed quite so exciting. ‘I’ve been lucky.’
    There was a second or two of silence while he just looked at her and then he said, ‘And yet with all