Read Online A Most Desirable Marriage by Hilary Boyd - Free Book Online Page A

Lawrence was helping her out at the moment, but she knew that couldn’t last if her husband was going to set up on his own. She had no pension beyond the miserly offering from the state and it wouldn’t be long before Lawrence would ask her to sell their beloved house. The thought made her feel sick.
    ‘You know you can’t rely on royalties,’ she said.
    ‘Yeah, look, it’s not great. I can probably get her up a bit. But she keeps repeating the fantastical/supernatural spiel – for the hundredth time. The implication is you’re being perverse not changing your style.’
    ‘So I can churn out the same as everyone else? Seems pointless.’
    ‘I know you like Frances, but I think we need to consider looking for another publisher. One who sees you a bit differently.’
    Maggie was silent as she made short work of the ham and cheese. She was in her early fifties, plump, pale, hard-working, usually dressed in serviceable black or navy and dealing with three teenaged boys who took up too much of her time.
    ‘Would the others sing a different song?’
    ‘You still have enough kudos from
Bumble and Me
to get their attention at least.’
    Jo had written the book five years ago. A story about a neglected teen with a loyal cat who saves her from all kinds of dangers with his strange psychic powers. It had been a success, even optioned by a television company, although the adaptation had never seen the light of day.
    ‘I’ll give it some thought. I think Helen at Johns, Carr might get you.’ Maggie glanced at her watch. ‘Christ, got to go. Mark’s in Berlin and I daren’t leave the three musketeers alone too long, they’ll get ideas.’
    She grabbed her bag from the floor, looking hassled suddenly. Jo knew she had a long journey back to Hackney and would probably have to cook supper when she got there.
    ‘You OK to get this?’ Maggie asked as she reached to kiss her on the cheek.
    ‘Of course,’ Jo said, not wanting to think about the bill yet. ‘I’ll stay a bit and finish my drink.’
    Maggie pulled a face. ‘Wish I could stay with you.’
    Watching her hurry off along the street, Jo felt suddenly bereft and had a ridiculous urge to cry. Instead, she ordered another glass of white which was deliciously cold and citrusy, and picked at the remains of the tapas, the sharp, nutty texture of the cheese sitting pleasurably on her tongue. Lawrence would like this place, she thought, unable to stop the tears filling her eyes.
    ‘Is this seat taken?’ A man in a well-cut blue suit, about her age, with slicked back grey hair, rimless spectacles and an incipient paunch was indicating the stool that Maggie had just vacated.
    ‘Not any longer.’
    He didn’t appear to understand. ‘So I can sit here?’
    ‘Of course.’
    ‘Sorry . . . I couldn’t hear you.’ He sank on to the stool gratefully, clutching his briefcase to his chest.
    ‘Phew.’
    Jo smiled. Normally she wouldn’t have dreamed of responding to a strange man in a bar, but tonight she found she wanted company. He ordered a large glass of red and some spicy sausages, then turned to her.
    ‘Can I get you another?’
    ‘Thanks, but I’ve probably had enough.’
    ‘One more can’t hurt, can it?’ His smile was charming, lifting his otherwise heavy jowls. ‘What was it?’
    She told him.
    ‘So . . . what’s upsetting you?’
    ‘Me?’ Jo was taken aback.
    ‘When I came in . . . you looked as if you were crying?’
    His accent was polished and confident.
    She didn’t know what to say.
    ‘Don’t tell me. Some bloody fellow’s gone and broken your heart.’
    She couldn’t help laughing.
    ‘We’re a bunch of bounders and bastards,’ he went on, warming to his theme, despite Jo not having said a word in reply. ‘Apart from me, of course. I’m honest Joe, reliable as the day is long.’ He took a large gulp of wine and gave a contented sigh. ‘Needed that.’
    ‘Bad day?’
    ‘Terrible. Non-stop since eight-thirty this morning – except