[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

'Where did I put it? I had it just now. Oh, look at that, how silly, I was
holding it all the time, with my gloves. Melanie, come along, aren't I
giving you a lift to work?'
Aunt Dolly and Uncle Teddy were going away for the weekend to the
Lake District, so that they need not get involved with Will's party, and
Melanie was secretly afraid that they might run into Jamie Knox.
There was no hope that they wouldn't now hear June and Fred's
version of how she came to be marooned for the night, but so long as
they didn't meet Jamie that might not alarm them. One look at him,
though, and Aunt Dolly would get agitated. The habit of worrying
about Melanie was too ingrained with her.
Friday was always a busy day in Carlisle. People drove in from the
surrounding countryside to shop, adding to the tourists who came to
see the town, often staying overnight so that they could visit
Hadrian's Wall. Of course, they were usually taken to Housesteads,
the most spectacular of the forts on the wall, where they could park
their coach beside the road in a walled car-park, have a cup of coffee
and buy souvenirs and postcards before visiting the small museum.
The more energetic could then make the climb uphill to the fort itself,
to stand on the summit, buffeted by winds, staring entranced at the
incredible views on each side of the wall, the misty green countryside
falling away in a sheer drop into echoing vistas.
While they were in Carlisle itself they had a choice of either visiting
the many shops or taking in the cathedral. Melanie often had lunch
there; it was a short walk from her office and the salads were
beautifully prepared and inexpensive. Of course, that meant that the
Buttery was always crowded with housewives, children, friends of
the cathedral, but the profits from the little restaurant went to help
maintain the cathedral structure. Built of red stone she always felt it
had a baleful look at sunset it wasn't the most elegant of
architecture. Begun in the twelfth century, it was a strange mixture of
periods. Melanie preferred the original style; there was something so
beautiful about the massive columns and Norman arches; their
strength had a confident simplicity. The cathedral was far lovelier
inside than out.
She was glad to be kept busy that Friday; it stopped her thinking too
much, wondering if Ross was flying home, if he would soon ring her,
if she would see him today, tomorrow soon.
Will's party didn't begin until eight and for several hours before that
they were all busy getting the ground floor of the house ready for
invasion, clearing out most of the furniture, arranging chairs and
cushions on the floor, collecting tapes and records, laying out the cold
buffet in the kitchen. Aunt Dolly had cooked most of it well in
advance the spread was amazing, cold quiches, sausage rolls,
vol-au-vents, pizzas they would have to reheat, bowls of salad
covered by cling-film, open fruit tarts and gateaux. She had cooked
the sort of food she knew Will loved, but had done it in embarrassing
abundance.
'She expects a plague of locusts,' Liz said, considering it all.
'Yum yum,' said Will, taking a sausage roll, and putting it into his
mouth before his sister could stop him.
'Don't do that again,' Liz said, slapping his hand. 'Go and check that
we've got enough glasses.'
'Done it. I've got my priorities right,' he said smugly.
The doorbell went and Liz groaned. 'Oh, no, they haven't started
arriving already!'
Will looked at his watch. 'Nearly eight, not that early.' He danced off
to open the front door while Melanie took off her apron and checked
her appearance in the mirror over the fireplace. She had dressed for
the occasion in what most of Will's friends would be
wearing smooth-fitting trousers and a casual top. Melanie's trousers
were dark red velvet, her top cut quite low, sleeveless, glittering with
black sequins. She had brushed her lids with a violet shadow that
deepened the colour of her dark blue eyes, and her lipstick was a
warm musk rose.
'I love that top,' Liz said, appearing in the mirror just behind her and
assessing her own appearance coolly. 'You're lucky having such
dramatic colouring; bold shades suit you.' [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]