Perfect Strangers by Tasmina Perry Read Free Book Online Page A

quiet enclave off Brompton Road. Lana’s detached house looked freshly painted, with slate steps, manicured window boxes on the Juliet balcony and miniature privet hedges standing like sentry guards either side of the shiny black door. Recession, what recession? thought Sophie, as she locked her helmet into her scooter’s storage box.
    Then again, she had to admit she was benefiting from all this surplus cash too. In the three weeks since she had met Lana, Sophie had made over fifteen hundred pounds from the woman and her wealthy friends for yoga and fitness sessions. She had quickly got over her embarrassment at being their ‘hired help’, as one client had ungraciously called her, and instead had felt empowered at bringing so much money in so swiftly. It had been enough to get her moped taxed and back on the road, to pay off the interest on her credit card bill, and to pay for a plane ticket for her mum to go and visit a friend in Denmark, which had been the first time she had seen Julia smile since the funeral.
    To be honest, Sophie didn’t know why she hadn’t thought of becoming a personal trainer before. She’d spent years keeping her body in tip-top condition and had the figure and athleticism to show for it. It made total sense to turn her prime asset into a career.
    Lana opened the door dressed in black cycling shorts, her long chocolate hair tumbling over the straps of a hot-pink cropped Lycra vest top.
    ‘Come in, come in,’ she purred. ‘Sorry I had to ask you to come to the house, but I’m mad, mad busy.’
    ‘Wow!’ said Sophie as she followed Lana inside. ‘This place is amazing.’
    If the exterior of Lana’s house was stunning, the interior was something else. The entrance hall was double height, with a white marble staircase curling off to the right, a grand piano standing centre stage and a stunning collection of art on the walls. Sophie still hadn’t worked out what Lana did for a living, but assumed that the money came from her husband Simon, who apparently did something in the money markets.
    ‘I suppose,’ shrugged Lana. ‘We only bought it recently, and there’s so much I want to do. I wanted to get the renovation work done while we were away, but I think this is maybe a six-, twelve-month job. Don’t you think it’s looking tired?’
    Sophie didn’t think anything of the sort. It seemed perfect to her eyes, all sparkling white paintwork, varnished wood floors and artfully arranged furniture; her idea of a dream house. It was a shame how Lana’s wealth and the ease with which she could spend her husband’s money had anesthetised her to its beauty.
    ‘So where do you want to do this?’ she asked.
    ‘There is a studio downstairs,’ said Lana, ‘but it’s a lovely day. Would it work to go for a run?’
    Sophie nodded. Much as she would have liked to see the studio, she knew she was here to work. Improving Lana’s cardiovascular fitness was a good idea, and her client was right: the sun was out and the morning air not too warm yet.
    They took the back streets towards Hyde Park, crossing Brompton Road, then snaked down Ennismore Gardens towards South Carriage Drive. They didn’t talk much, but when Sophie did say something, it was to praise Lana’s work rate. She knew from personal experience how women with rich partners, no matter how beautiful, tended to be insecure, and needed constant compliments and reassurance. But in Lana’s case, no false flattery was required. She was long-legged, fit and light-footed, and had no problem keeping up with Sophie’s pace. They were inside the park now, running down the shaded path between two lines of sycamores.
    ‘So how long are you away for?’ Sophie said it lightly, but she had been dreading the answer. She was just getting used to the income from Lana’s daily sessions, and despite getting some response from a notice for ‘Ellis Training’ she had pinned on various café notice boards around South Kensington, she knew she