The Doll's House by Tania Carver Read Free Book Online

the lowdown on who to talk to and who to avoid. Marina had thought at first that she would feel, to borrow a phrase Phil often used, like Jimi Hendrix in the Beatles, but they all seemed fine.
    As if on cue, her phone trilled. A text. She checked it:
    Â 
    Out on a murder case. Could be a late one. Josephina’s still with Eileen. Don’t wait up. Hope you have a good night. Love You. Pxxx
    She texted back:
    Â 
    Love you too. XXX
    A murder case. And there it was, that familiar thrill. Get in there, find out what had happened, who had done what and why. She took another sip of wine.
Let it go
, she thought.
Not my concern any more
.
    â€˜That your husband?’ asked Joy, turning away from a young, handsome PhD student she had been chatting to.
    Marina nodded. ‘On a case. Be home late.’
    Joy’s eyes widened. ‘Exciting.’
    Marina shrugged, trying to play it down. ‘Not really. Just work.’
    Joy was still looking at her. Marina knew the look, had expected something like this. Everyone in the department knew her background but no one had asked about it.
This must be it
, she thought.
The night the inhibitions come down and I’m expected to fill them all in on what they read in the papers and saw on the news.
    Suddenly she wasn’t enjoying herself so much.
    At that moment, the empty seat the other side of her was abruptly filled. Marina turned.
    â€˜This seat taken? Thought not.’
    The man’s voice was deep, resonant. Trace of an accent she couldn’t immediately place. She took him in. Tall, his hair longer than was fashionable, but he managed to pull it off, sweeping it back and letting it hang down. His chin and cheeks had matching stubble. He was one step short of medallion man, his shirt open at least one button too many, his jacket expensive and designer but creased. Like he was used to the best but didn’t have to make an effort with it. As she opened her mouth, he smiled at her. And that was when she noticed how beautiful his eyes were. Deep green, like sparkling wooded pools on a summer’s day. Even without Joy’s introduction, she knew who he was.
    â€˜Don’t think we’ve met,’ he said, extending a hand. ‘Hugo Gwilym.’ His voice was commanding, authoritative. The hint of accent she hadn’t been able to identify she now spotted as Welsh. He was used to being listened to, like a politician or a mesmerist.
    She found herself taking his hand. ‘Marina Esposito.’
    â€˜Oh, I know who you are,’ he said, shaking her hand lightly. The gesture was a very sensual one. ‘I know all about you.’ Another smile. His eyes crinkled appealingly at the edges. She saw the shots of grey hair in amongst the black. It gave him a rakish, piratical air.
    Marina felt herself reddening. She was aware of Joy’s eyes on her. ‘Oh,’ she said, then mentally chastised herself because she couldn’t come up with anything better than that.
    Hugo Gwilym. Marina had heard of him but not met him until now. The star of the department, of the university even, a psychologist who had parlayed an academic career into a media one. He had started writing articles for specialist journals, then hopped up to the broadsheets. Courted by publishers, he had brought out a couple of pop cultural psychology books. They in turn opened the door to TV interviews, which he finessed into regular appearances as a talking head on news and cultural programmes. He had even been a guest panellist on
Have I Got News For You
. He was ambitious, controversial and famous. And if the campus rumours were true, enjoying everything that fame brought.
    Marina had read his work. She hated it. Disagreed with every point he made. A controversialist, a populist, a cynic.
    But, close up, with lovely eyes.
    He smiled again, reached for the wine bottle, filled up her empty glass.
    She put her hand out to cover it. ‘No, I’m