TouchStone for giving (The Story of Us Trilogy) by Sydney Jamesson Read Free Book Online

navy blue T-shirt and blazer, courtesy
    of Mango. Hardly uber designer but smart and stylish.

    With the aid of my Sat Nav, I weave my way through Sunday afternoon traffic listening to Will
    Young urging me to be Stronger.
    It’s 2p.m. when I arrive at Alenka’s address, unsure if she’s even home. She could be posing in
    Paraguay for all I know. The only thing I am sure of, is I’m about to face a taller, smarter, richer and
    more beautiful woman who, I suspect, is still in love with Ayden. Is it little wonder I’m filled with
    dread.
    By way of a final check, I take a look at myself in the sun visor mirror. I look fresh faced and
    rested; my eyes are the colour of the summer sky – as Ayden would say - and there’s nothing stuck
    between my teeth. Let’s do this.
    Number 24 is the last house on the left; a Georgian town house with four steps up and four floors
    from basement to attic. It must be worth a fortune. I hear the doorbell sounding inside, giving me the
    time I need to straighten my T-shirt and inhale a much needed gulp of cool city air.
    On opening the door she takes a step backwards. “Well ...”
    It’s as if she is expecting me. And there I was thinking I had the element of surprise on my side.
    “Elizabeth. I was wondering how long it would take you to summon up the courage to come and see
    me. Do come inside.”
    She wafts me in. I feel like the proverbial fly entering the parlour of a ravenous spider. I stroll into
    a stunning hallway: tiled floor, enormous staircase and an ornate mirror the size of my sofa.
    For some reason I can only offer a crooked smile and quickly straighten my face, before moving
    into her enormous lounge.
    “Please, sit down. Can I offer you a drink: coffee, water, wine?”
    “No, thank you, I doubt I’ll be here long enough to drink it.” My voice is controlled, but I’m
    actually starting to perspire beneath my blazer; my nerves are so frayed. “I’ve not come here to make
    idle conversation over a glass of Pinot Grigio.”
    “I’m pleased to hear it.”
    She sits across from me and tucks here supermodel legs underneath her body in a kind of yoga
    move that makes me suspect she’s double jointed on top of everything else.
    “Why are you here?”
    “I’d like to sort out a couple of things if that’s alright with you?” I’m getting into my stride.
    There’s no stopping me now.
    “Perfectly.”
    Here she sits like a princess on her throne, so fucking perfect; even her voice is cultured and
    refined. I hate her with a vengeance. Her glossy auburn hair is tied back into a loose pony tail; the
    flyaway strands any other woman would sweep away, she has left hanging, giving off a kind of
    untamed look that adds to her attractiveness. She’s only wearing a simple skirt and camisole top in
    olive green to match her eyes and it’s tight enough to show her ample breasts, allowing them to press
    up against the material provocatively. I daren’t even contemplate the lengths to which she must have
    gone to seduce Ayden; he didn’t stand a chance.
    “I’d like to ask you a couple of questions.”
    “Ask away.” She places her hands on her lap, totally unruffled and comfortable in her own skin.
    I draw first blood. “Are you in love with Ayden?”
    “Yes. Next question.”
    What? I’m taken aback. “You are?”
    “Yes, aren’t you?”
    “Yes. That’s why I’m here.”
    Wait a minute. I’m supposed to be the one asking the questions.
    “Well then.”
    She’s smiling so sweetly, I honestly think I may have to hit her over the head with a blunt
    instrument before I leave. Just to satisfy my need to knock that smug smile off her face.
    “If you love him then why did you end the relationship in November?” I’ve had enough of her
    games.
    She looks crestfallen. “I had no choice.”
    “What do you mean – no choice?”
    Words do not come easy to her. “I ... I was not in a position to give him what he needed.”
    “And what was that?”
    I do