Under Gemini by Rosamunde Pilcher Read Free Book Online Page A

it is.…”
    â€œIs he nice? Mr. Schuster, I mean.”
    â€œYes. Sweet.”
    And terribly rich, thought Flora, eyeing the mink and the cashmere and the crocodile bag. Pamela, ditching the penniless schoolmaster, had done a good deal better for herself the second time around.
    She thought of something else. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
    â€œNo. Just me. How about you?”
    â€œI’m an only, and likely to stay that way. Pa’s just married again. She’s called Marcia and she’s super, but she’s not exactly a chicken.”
    â€œWhat does your father look like?”
    â€œTall. Scholarly, I suppose. Very kind. He wears horn-rimmed spectacles and he forgets things. He’s very…” She searched for some brilliant word that would describe her father, but only came up with “charming.” And she added, “And very truthful. That’s why I find this all so extraordinary.”
    â€œYou mean, he’s never palmed you off with a fib?”
    Flora was a little shocked. “I never imagined he was capable of suppressing a truth, let alone telling a lie.”
    â€œHe must be something.” Rose stubbed out her cigarette, thoughtfully grinding it to pieces in the middle of the ashtray. “My mother is perfectly capable of suppressing the truth, or even telling a wing-ding of a lie. But she also is charming. When she wants to be!”
    Despite herself, Flora smiled, because Rose’s description matched so exactly what she had always imagined for herself.
    â€œIs she pretty?” she asked.
    â€œVery slim and young-looking. Not beautiful, but everybody thinks she is. It’s a sort of confidence trick.”
    â€œIs … is she in London now?” Flora made herself ask, thinking, If she is and I have to meet her, what will I say to her? What will I do?
    â€œNo, she’s in New York. Actually, she and Harry and I have been on a trip; I only flew in to Heathrow last week. She wanted me to stay, but I had to come back, because…” She did not finish the sentence. Her eyes slid away as she reached for another cigarette and burrowed in her bag for her lighter. “… Oh, various reasons,” she finished unsatisfactorily.
    Flora waited hopefully to be told the reasons, but they were interrupted once more by Pietro returning with the champagne bottle and three glasses. With some ceremony he drew the cork and poured the wine, passing the neck of the bottle from glass to glass without spilling a drop. He wiped the bottle clean with a starched napkin, picked up his own glass, and raised it to them.
    â€œTo the reunion. To sisters finding each other. It is, I think, an act of God.”
    â€œThank you,” said Flora. “Happy days,” said Rose. Pietro departed once more, by now quite moist at the eyes, and they were left with the bottle to finish between them. “We’ll probably get plastered,” said Rose, “but never mind about that. Where had we got to?”
    â€œYou were saying you had to come back to London from the States.”
    â€œOh, sure. But now, I think I am going to Greece. Perhaps tomorrow or the next day. I haven’t exactly decided.”
    It sounded a marvelously jet-set, spur-of-the-moment existence.
    â€œWhere are you staying?” Flora asked, expecting to be told the Connaught or the Ritz. But it appeared that Harry Schuster’s job carried with it a flat in London as well as the apartments in Paris, Frankfurt, and Rome. The London flat was in Cadogan Gardens. “Just round the corner,” said Rose, casually. “I always walk round here when I want something to eat. How about you?”
    â€œYou mean, where do I live? Nowhere at the moment. I told you, I only came up from Cornwall today. I was going to stay with a girlfirend, only it didn’t work out, so I’ve got to find a flat. I’ve got to find a job, too, only that’s