Quentins by Maeve Binchy Read Free Book Online Page A

party supporters would want to see video of themselves looking decorous, mixing with the party leader, with cabinet ministers and celebrities. That’s what Nick and Ed and Sandy were going back to the office to do now, edit the video and copy it for Don Richardson. It had to be in his office the next day by lunchtime. It would mean working all night.
    â€œI don’t suppose you’re going to come and help us some more back at base, Ella,” Nick said without any hope.
    â€œI’d love to,” she said guiltily. “It’s just I have school tomorrow morning, you see.”
    â€œWhy did I know you were going to say that?” Nick gave her a brotherly pat on the behind.
    Sandy wasn’t jealous anymore. As they walked to her car, Sandy whispered to Ella, “Did you see him?”
    â€œYes, I saw him.”
    â€œDid he see you?” Still a whisper.
    â€œNo, no, he didn’t.”
    â€œAre you glad or sorry you came?” Sandy had to know. Again, total truth is very satisfying.
    â€œA bit of both, to be honest,” Ella Brady said, and slipped out the back way before she might see Don Richardson hold out his hand and ask his tiny emerald-wearing estranged wife to dance.
    She got a taxi home and stayed awake until five A . M . After two hours she woke groggy and bad tempered. And when she got to her class, she didn’t feel any better. “If you know what’s good for all of us, you lot must be no trouble today,” she warned the fifth-graders, who were inclined to be difficult.
    â€œWas it a heavy night, Miss Brady?” asked Jacinta, one of the more fearless troublemakers.
    Ella strode so purposefully toward the girl’s desk that the class gasped.
    Miss Brady couldn’t be about to hit a pupil, surely? But that’s what it looked like. Ella stood, her face inches from the child. “There’s always one in every class, Jacinta O’Brien, one smart-ass who goes too far and ruins it for everyone. In this class you are the one. I was going to treat you like adults, tell you the truth, which is that I didn’t sleep and don’t feel too well. I was going to ask for your cooperation so that I could give you as good a lesson as possible.
    â€œBut no, there’s always the smart-ass, so instead we will have a test. Get out your papers this minute .”
    Ella gave them four questions, and then she sat there trembling at her outburst. She had said smart-ass. Twice.
    This wasn’t the kind of school where you said that.
    She had meant to say smart aleck. Oh, God, why couldn’t it be Tuesday? Then she could see Don Richardson that night.
    But she got through the day and was relieved to get home.
    â€œI understand you’ve started stalking him now,” Deirdre said on the phone that night.
    â€œHow did you hear that?” Ella gasped.
    â€œIt was in one of the gossip columns. I can’t remember which,” Deirdre said. As usual, Ella fell for it.
    â€œWhat?”
    â€œOh, shut up, Ella, you eejit. I met Nick and he told me you wanted to crash Don’s big fund-raiser with him.”
    Ella began to breathe again.
    â€œSome capital city this is, you can’t do anything,” she grumbled.
    â€œWell, you haven’t done anything, have you?” Deirdre reminded her.
    â€œNo. Tomorrow night,” Ella said. “It would have been tonight, but I remembered what you said about not being too available.”
    â€œCan we meet lunchtime Wednesday?” asked Deirdre.
    â€œNo, that’s my short lunch . . . it will have to wait till after work.”
    â€œEarly bird Quentins? My treat?” Deirdre offered.
    â€œEarly bird starts at six-thirty. I’ll be there,” Ella promised.
    There was an old clock on a church tower near Ella’s flat. It was just striking eight when he knocked on the door. “I’m boringly punctual,” he said. He carried a briefcase, an orchid and