The House On Willow Street by Cathy Kelly Read Free Book Online Page A

write feminist tracts get way more publicity than plain ones. People assume that unattractive women turn feminist because they’re bitter about their lack of femininity. They’re intrigued when someone as gorgeous as you speaks out for the sisterhood.”
    Nobody could accuse Suki Richardson, with her full cherry-red lips, blonde hair and a figure straight out of the upper rack of the magazine store of being bitter about her femininity.
    “. . . she was one of the most respected feminists of her generation . . .”
    What did that mean— was and of her generation? That lumped her in with a whole load of graying, hairy-armpitted members of the sisterhood who’d written one book before sloping off into obscurity.
    She’d expected more, given that Women and Their Wars was on the Women’s Studies foundation course here at Kirkenfeld College.
    Realizing that the head of the faculty was looking at her, Suki forced herself to smile again. That damned book had been published years ago; she had written three more since then, yet Women and Their Wars was all anyone ever talked about. That and her marriage to Kyle Richardson, her years with Jethro, and the fact that she was beautiful.
    How ironic that, for all her feminist credentials, she seemed doomed to be defined by the very things she railed against: her men and her looks.
    Of course it didn’t help that the next two books she’d written had bombed spectacularly. She’d done a coast-to-coast tour for her last book and still nobody had bought it, despite her enduring countless visits to radio stations where she wasquestioned endlessly about the Richardsons and what they were really like.
    At least people still wanted to hear what she had to say, particularly when she got onto her pet subject about women and children: “What is this rubbish about biological clocks? Younger women should have children, not older ones. If there’s one thing I hate it’s hearing about some movie star who reaches fifty, then realizes she hasn’t had kids yet and plays IVF roulette until she gets one. Kids need young mothers who can roll on the floor with them and play. Not older ones . . .”
    But it seemed as if Suki Richardson’s diatribes had lost their appeal. Once upon a time, audiences used to tune in hoping that she would tear into some television host who dared question her or fellow panelists who didn’t share her views. Producers used to think she was TV dynamite. But not these days. She’d become invisible since the years with Jethro. Add to that the fact that her books were out of print, apart from Women and Their Wars , which was only available in selected college bookstores, and it all added up to one equation: penury.
    It cost a lot to live the way she’d got used to living before she’d left Jethro: she had acquired a taste for designer clothes and the best restaurants. And Dr. Frederick cost a bloody fortune; invisible, top-of-the-range cosmetic surgery did not come cheap. Not that a tweak and a mini droplet of Botox here and there didn’t fit in with feminism, but her public might think otherwise. God forbid that Suki Richardson should be outed as having resorted to Sculptra to keep her face looking young. Not after she’d publicly declared that “women should stop trying to stop the years! Wrinkles are the proof that we have lived!”
    Unfortunately she had acquired a little too much proof of having lived. At forty-eight, she seemed to have more thanher fair share of lines. Who knew that smoking created all those lines around the mouth?
    And she’d probably have a whole new set of frown lines after the phone call from Eric Gold.
    Eric had always been straight with her. She wished they were still friends, because he was one of the few people she could rely on to tell her the truth, even when it hurt.
    “I got a letter requesting an interview from this guy who’s writing a book about the Richardsons.”
    “Ye-s,” said Suki.
    She’d been enjoying a nice