Sin by Josephine Hart Read Free Book Online Page A

City.”
    â€œWhy?”
    â€œHe’s very brilliant, intellectually. First from Oxford. And he’s supposed to be a ruthless businessman.”
    â€œIs he?”
    â€œNo, not really. He’s just successful beyond the laws of probability.”
    â€œGod! Spare me the mathematical phrases.”
    â€œI’m not in Dominick’s league.”
    â€œHelen, when I see you gazing out at me from the TV, analysing this or that company’s results, I cannot help remembering the schoolgirl who traded her math prep for whatever perfume or lipstick she lusted after.”
    â€œNever yours, darling. You were always too pristine for such adolescent decorations.”
    â€œAnd anyway, Helen, I preferred to do my own prep. ”
    â€œAs now.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œYou’re doing prep on Charles Harding.”
    â€œWell, as I said, he may be about to take us over.”
    â€œHmmm.”
    Helen was as close to the concept of a friend as I ever had. Which was why I was particularly guarded around her. She had red, wavy hair and sharp, grey-green eyes. When she widened them during an interview, they made her most lethal questions sound benign. She had a certain female power much admired by women in my time. And used the gifts of nature to enhance a considerable intelligence—for the simple purpose of undermining powerful men. She was excellent at her job, fielded lust with some malice and succumbed, I guessed, with little pleasure. Our relationship had an element of mutual admiration and competition.
    â€œDid you know his wife?”
    â€œFelicity? Not really. I met her on just a few occasions, when she was being the token wife. Which she always did well, incidentally. She died four yearsago.”
    â€œHow did she die?”
    â€œThere was a long illness. A weak heart, I think. Though the end was very sudden.”
    â€œChildren?”
    â€œOne. Grown up. I think he lives in America. It was a long marriage. There was never any scandal, that I heard of. Charles Harding is not one for the gossip columnists. Far too clever for that. Of course, there could be some secret. … But”—she paused— “on the surface it looks, my dear, as though what you see is what you get. Tycoon. Widowed. …”
    I knew Helen well enough to have noted the pause and the equivocating words ….
    â€œOn the surface? What do you mean?”
    She sat back in her chair and looked at me, a kind of question in her eyes.
    She sighed. “Can I trust you, Ruth? This really is utterly confidential.” I nodded. She paused and began to speak quietly.
    â€œIn the year before Felicity died—she had, remember, been ill for some time—he had a short affair with a young woman. She was … insanely … in love. It was all extraordinarily intense, I gather, Very sexual, I would imagine. Anyway, he tried to end it. And she … killed herself. I knew her parents. It was all hushed up. Her father’s a Queen’s Counsel. Has enormous influence.”
    â€œAnd Charles Harding?”
    â€œWell, he was—he was utterly devastated. Blamed himself entirely. Felicity died shortly afterwards. It was a double blow. To a man who I’d guess had felt himself capable of handling anything and anyone. I imagine he still feels very guilty.”
    Now I understood Elizabeth’s attraction for him; she would be the perfect balm for a guilty soul. But what of the other side of Charles Harding? The “intensely sexual”? Was that for Elizabeth, too?
    â€œWell, perhaps he’ll meet a good woman.” I smiled at Helen. I wanted to break the air of increasing intimacy between us. She took the bait. And became the public Helen.
    â€œThere aren’t many of those about.” She smiled back at me.
    â€œOh, yes there are. They’re just as lethal.”
    We laughed our conversation to an end. And I left having learned a lot, but knowing