Stranded by Val McDermid Read Free Book Online

she leaned into me and said, ‘I really love this country.’
    I pushed her dark hair away from her forehead and said, ‘Russia can be a very cruel place. We Russians are dangerous.’
    â€˜You don’t feel very dangerous to me,’ she whispered, her breath hot against my neck.
    â€˜I’m Russian. I’m trouble. The two go together like hand in glove.’
    â€˜Mmm. I like the sound of that. Your hand, my glove.’
    â€˜That would be very dangerous.’
    She chuckled softly. ‘I feel the need for a little danger, Natasha.’
    And so we made trouble.
    Of course, she went back to England. She didn’t want to, but she had no choice. Her visa was about to expire, she had work commitments at home. And there was Claire. She had said very little about her lover, but I understood how deeply ingrained was her subservience. The clues were there, both sexually and emotionally. Claire wasn’t physically violent, but emotional abuse can cause damage that is far more profound. Elinor had learned the lesson of submission so thoroughly it was entrenched in her soul. No matter how deep the love that had sprung up between us, in her heart she couldn’t escape the conviction that she belonged to Claire.
    It didn’t stop us loving each other. We e-mailed daily, sometimes several times a day. We managed to speak on the phone every two or three weeks, sometimes for an hour at a time. A couple of months after she’d gone back, she called in distress. Claire had accepted a new job in London, and was insisting Elinor abandon her work in Manchester and move to the capital with her. I gently suggested this might be the opportunity for Elinor to free herself, not necessarily for me but for her own sake. But I knew even as I spoke it was pointless. Until Claire decided it was over, Elinor had no other option but to stay. I understood that; I had only managed to free myself when my husband had grown tired of me. I wanted to save her, but I didn’t know how.
    Three months later, they’d moved. Elinor had found a job at one of the London teaching hospitals. She didn’t have the same degree of autonomy she’d enjoyed in Manchester, and she found it much less challenging. But at least she was able to use some of her expertise, and she liked the team she was working with.
    I was actually reading one of her e-mails when my boss called me into his office. ‘You know I’m supposed to go to London next week? The conference on HIV and intravenous drug use?’
    I nodded. Lucky bastard, I’d thought when the invitation came through. ‘I remember.’
    â€˜My wife has been diagnosed with breast cancer,’ he said abruptly. ‘They’re operating on Monday. So you’ll have to go instead.’
    It was an uncomfortable way to achieve my heart’s desire, but there was nothing I could do about my boss’s misfortune. A few days later, I was walking through customs and immigration and into Elinor’s arms. We went straight to my hotel and dived back into the dangerous waters. Hand in glove. Moths to a flame.
    Four days of the conference. Three evenings supposedly socialising with colleagues, but in reality, time we could steal to be together. Except that on the last night, the plans went spectacularly awry. Instead of a discreet knock at my bedroom door, the phone rang. Elinor’s voice was unnaturally bright. ‘Hi, Natasha,’ she said. ‘I’m down in reception. I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve brought Claire with me. She wanted to meet you.’
    Panic choked me like a gloved hand. ‘I’ll be right down,’ I managed to say. I dressed hurriedly, fingers fumbling zip and buttons, mouth muttering Russian curses. What was Claire up to? Was this simply about control, or was there more to it? Had she sussed what was going on between Elinor and me? With dry mouth and damp palms, I rode the lift to the ground