The Body of a Woman by Clare Curzon Read Free Book Online Page A

up.’
    His eyes were laughing at her. ‘We shall meet again.’
    â€˜I hope so.’ Now why did she say that? A smile would have sufficed. She nodded to the women, turned and fled.
    The rest of the day was enthralling. Quincunx, their number 4, appropriately came in fourth, to Charles’s great delight.
    â€˜Why Quincunx?’ she asked him as their car slowed, manoeuvring through the homegoing throng. ‘What does it mean?’
    â€˜It’s a pattern,’ he explained. ‘Five dots: four arranged in a square with one at the centre. Like a five in dice or dominoes. But he’s called that because he was by White Domino out of Queen Mab. Quin for queen: sort of pun, d’you see?’

    â€˜He should have drawn number 5 then,’ Janey suggested airily. ‘Maybe the 4 confused him.’
    â€˜If he’s that numerate,’ Charles said damningly, ‘he’d’ve likely seen fit to come in fifth. As it is, I’m well pleased for a start.’
    But Pascal won’t be, Leila thought. I wonder how much he lost? Why on earth did I allow him to bet on Charles’s latest fad?

Chapter 6
    Two days later Leila was expecting a grocery delivery, but when she opened the back door it was to Pascal nonchalantly leaning there, a bone-china teacup held out like a begging bowl. ‘I do not recall,’ he said, his brow furrowed, ‘eef eet ees flour or sugar I am supposed to run short of. These British social nuances are a leetle difficult to pick ohp.’
    She found herself responding to the laughter dancing in his eyes.
    â€˜According to the TV commercials you’re hoping to share my instant coffee. Anyway, do come in.’
    She was aware of Hetty Chadwick’s vigorous vacuuming upstairs suddenly hushed and suspected that the twice-weekly cleaner was leaning over the banisters to listen. It was unfortunate that he had chosen one of her days to call, but at least his arrival offered Leila the chance to apologise for her gauche retreat at Ascot.
    He heard her out and nodded. ‘I could forgeeve your horry on one condition,’ he told her sombrely. ‘Eef you will please accept a spare ticket for Wimbledohn next week, Friday on Centre Court. I know it ees ard on the neck, but the strawberry cream teas mehk up for eet.’
    She couldn’t accept, of course. One spare ticket meant that he didn’t pretend to invite Aidan too. ‘Why me?” she asked. ‘I’m sure you have lots of friends who would love to take you up on it.’
    â€˜But I wish to know you better, Leila. I may call you that, I ope? We could share my big ohmbrella when it rehns.’
    â€˜It’s going to be fine and sunny all next week.’
    â€˜But Wimbledohn, sooner or lehter, eet alwehs rehns.’
    â€˜It’s a very kind offer, but I really don’t know. There’s still so much to be done here, unpacking. Come through and see what a mess we’re in.’

    He followed her into the drawing-room from which open patio doors led to the large conservatory and a panorama of half-emptied crates. A trestle table held several trays piled with china, linen and kitchen equipment.
    â€˜Isn’t it grim? I didn’t know we’d accumulated so much junk.’
    Pascal surveyed the scene. ‘You must ave been a collector from birth.’
    â€˜Most of it’s from Aidan’s old home. He was married before I came along. I’ve two stepchildren and they’re pretty acquisitive too. But once they’d sorted their best stuff into their rooms they went off for the summer, leaving me to dispose of the rest.’
    She knew she was talking too much because his presence challenged her: he so urbane, while she, the housewife, had never been anywhere, never made anything of her life. He didn’ t want to hear all this trivia. He’d think her a fool.
    â€˜Theess eez your stepdaughter weeth you?’ He had picked the