The Love Letter by Fiona Walker Read Free Book Online Page A

she adored her solitary painting holidays in Devon, liberated from the constraints ofclothes in the tiny hideaway cottage and its secluded clifftop garden. At one time, the Norths would have all gathered at Spywood for August, but since Legs’ break-up with Francis, Ros had used her and Nico’s church commitments and Dorian his shop as the excuses that freed Lucy to enjoy her unfettered water-colour breaks. These days, the family felt increasingly awkward about intruding.
    ‘I’ll never understand the English,’ Conrad laughed, always at his most South African when he was Brit-bashing. ‘You have these little bolt-holes just a couple of hours away, and you never use them.’
    ‘Farcombe is Francis’s family home.’
    ‘We’re not living in a feudal society any more!’
    ‘Actually, Farcombe still basically is. The estate owns most of the village.’
    Tucking her knees beneath her chin, Legs crammed a scone into her mouth and then found her eyes watering as she struggled to eat it whole, cheeks bulging and crumbs flying.
    This conversation was starting to really annoy her. Aside from the fact that he’d procured cucumber sandwiches on a sundrenched blanket, Conrad was being about as romantic as he would be on a Monday morning desk briefing over a Starbucks skinny latte, and just as ruthless.
    ‘I want you to get Gordon onto the Farcombe Festival bill, whatever it takes.’
    It took a great deal of effort to swallow the scone as she coughed and spluttered, ‘Are you seriously asking me to try to build bridges with my ex for Gordon’s sake?’
    ‘Why not? Look at Madeleine and me. We’re professional about our friendship now. We’ve moved on.’
    ‘You might have moved on. She still wants you back as the head of the family.’
    ‘Rubbish.’ He rolled over onto his back. ‘We’re co-parents, and have business interests in common. We have to be adult about things.’
    ‘Francis and I have no children or business interests in common.’ She could cringe when she remembered their youthful dreams of setting up in publishing together, of raising a huge, clever family at Farcombe.
    ‘
This
is business, Legs. You hold the key to releasing Gordon in a controlled environment, and keeping Ptolemy Finch as a national treasure. And you have Gordon’s trust now, which gives you a very rare power indeed; don’t abuse it.’
    There was a long pause while Legs angrily demolished the rest of the truffle chocolate brownies, still barely able to believe that he would ask her to do this. Gordon Lapis was an exasperating sod, she reflected; he controlled them all with his big money wizardry. Having his trust felt more like a curse than a gift as it increasingly impinged upon her personal space. Yet his books were so magical, he was already engraved into her imaginative world. She only wished she shared Ptolemy Finch’s ability to see into the future.
    ‘What if Francis still has feelings?’ she asked quietly.
    Conrad selected a miniature pink-iced cupcake with strawberries arranged prettily on the top. ‘And you?’
    ‘I’m with
you.’
It was all too easy to say. They shared the present tense for all its occasional tension; Legs lived for the moment; Conrad, with his immediacy and drive, made every moment count. Although her feelings for Francis remained painfully complicated, she survived by keeping the two entirely separate.
    Now Conrad was smiling wolfishly into her eyes, reminding her how sexy and carefree his road was through the deep dark woods.
    ‘Good girl.’ He held out the cake. ‘As long as that’s understood, we can trust one another. Now eat this up. I’m taking you shopping. You need a weekend wardrobe. Send Gordon an email telling him we’re trying a new approach.’
    Quashing visions of Julie Ocean going deep undercover at the behest of her love-interest Superintendent, she did as she was told,sending the message as instructed and adding,
Conrad attends the same Tai Chi class as myself in Hyde