Read Online Buried in Cornwall by Janie Bolitho - Free Book Online

the five cigarettes she allowed herself each day and sat down at thekitchen table to finish her drink and to plan what to cook him for dinner. Something special, she decided, to make up for her neglect. The crab season was over but she had some which she had frozen earlier in the year. She got it out of the freezer, it wouldn’t take long to thaw. White and dark meat. She could mix it with soft cheese and make pate with crudites. This would be followed by lamb kebabs marinated in lemon juice, olive oil, garlic and some of Doreen Clarke’s redcurrant jelly. Served with rice and a green salad it would appear to have taken more effort than it really had. Rose knew that concentration on the food was a way of subduing the thoughts that wanted to rise to the surface; if she kept calm a perfectly logical explanation would come to mind.
    As she crushed the garlic its pungent aroma overrode the fruity smell of the redcurrant jelly which was melting slowly in a small saucepan. Rose enjoyed cooking and the automatic, familiar gestures as she moved around her kitchen soothed her. Outside the night clouds began to gather and soon it was completely dark. Once the table was laid, the pate in individual dishes in the fridge and the rest of the meal ready to cook, Rose went upstairs to change.
    She was sitting quietly listening to some musicwhen Barry arrived, his head jutting forward as if he was unsure of his welcome. Rose kissed his cheek, accepted the bottle of wine he had brought and asked him to open it.
    ‘You look a bit pale, you’re not going down with something, are you?’
    ‘No, I don’t think so.’
    He stood, arms folded, and studied her face. ‘Rose, tell me what’s happened.’ It wasn’t a question.
    Her head jerked up. Had she spoken her thoughts aloud or was he telepathic?
    ‘You’re involved in something, Rose, I know it.’
    ‘No. Not involved. Oh, it’s ridiculous.’
    ‘You didn’t go out there again?’
    ‘I had to, Barry. The painting’s good, I know it is. In fact, I’m certain it’s the best I’ve ever done. I couldn’t not finish it because of some wild auditory hallucination.’
    Barry shrugged and pulled the cork from the bottle. ‘The mind can play strange tricks.’
    ‘Yes. You’re right. Perhaps I need a holiday.’
    ‘I could do with one myself.’
    Rose turned away to put the skewered lamb and peppers under the grill, unprepared to follow up the obvious hint. ‘It won’t be long.’
    They were halfway through the meal. Rose was struggling to eat as Barry regaled her with stories about his customers and complimented her on the food. He knew something was very wrong and was hurt that she wouldn’t confide in him, but to press her would be a waste of breath, she would dig her heels in further. All he could do was to offer assistance if she required it. ‘Rose?’
    She looked up and tried to smile. He was a decent man, solid and dependable, and she often wished she had been able to offer him more. He could also be irritating, domineering and possessive, she reminded herself as the telephone rang causing her to jump. She went to the sitting-room to answer it. It was Nick. Rose shuffled backwards, trailing the lead in one hand, and, with the heel of her shoe, nudged the door closed behind her. This is silly, she thought, there was no reason she shouldn’t receive a call from whomsoever she pleased. However, she had to take Barry’s feelings into consideration. Nick asked how she was. Rose wondered why he was ringing again. Only last night she had told him that she was busy. Was he the sort of man to pester, not to take no for an answer? If so, there was no future for them. That was not the sort of relationship she wanted. A more sinister thoughtcrossed her mind. He knew she had been going back to the mine that day – had he called to find out her reaction to what he may have known would happen?
    ‘No, I haven’t,’ she answered, puzzled, when Nick asked if she’d seen Jenny.