Read Online Caught in the Act by Gemma Fox - Free Book Online Page A

to say? Hadn’t they said it all before a long, long time ago? Her silence was a sharp contrast to the sounds of the pub around them.
    â€˜So,’ said George, a little self-consciously, ‘how’s life been with you?’
    â€˜Well, come on then, who’s going to go first?’ asked Adie, unpacking the round of drinks from the tray. ‘Truth or consequences,’ he continued, handing Jan a glass of white wine, whilst looking at the bemused faces around the table.
    On the way down to the pub they had agreed to try to keep all the catching-up on what had happened to who and when and why until everyone was settled down and could listen properly. It had seemed like a good idea. Everyone had found it hard not to break into spontaneous reminiscing during the walk, but now they were all settled and ready, it seemed that no one wanted to be the first to start.
    â€˜Oh, come on, for God’s sake, we’re all ears. Netty, come on—‘fess up,’ Adie said, taking a pull on his pint.
    Netty shook her head. ‘Good God, no, not me. At least not until I’ve eaten. Let somebody else go first. I can only cope with my sordid past after a couple of stiff drinks and on a full stomach. How about our leading lady?’ Everyone turned to look at Carol. ‘Come on, off you go, petal. You’ve got as long as youneed on your specialist subject, Carol Hastings,’ said Netty, doing a very passable impression of John Humphrys. ‘What I did with the last twenty years of my life, starting now.’
    â€˜Oh no, not me,’ Carol protested, waving the words away, but Adie and Netty were insistent.
    â€˜Stop being so bloody coy. Someone’s got to go first or we’ll be here all day.’
    â€˜Why me?’
    â€˜Why not?’ said Adie. ‘C’mon.’
    Carol sighed. ‘What do you want to know?’
    â€˜Everything. All the usual stuff. What you do, if you’re married. And if so, how many times. Are you happy?’ offered Netty.
    â€˜Where you live.’ Jan.
    â€˜Whether you’ve got kids, a dog, a cat, a goldfish.’ Adie.
    â€˜And any strange personal habits, peculiar hobbies or bizarre sexual practices.’ Netty.
    â€˜Oh, yes,’ said Adie, enthusiastically. ‘C’mon.’
    â€˜The trouble is it’s all surface. I can tell you what I’ve done but that doesn’t tell you anything about who I am or what I feel or what I’m like,’ said Carol, wriggling uncomfortably under their gaze.
    Netty groaned theatrically. ‘Oh my God, you grew up to be a therapist, didn’t you?’
    â€˜No, I—’ began Carol, but not quite fast enough.
    â€˜We know who you are,’ said Adie encouragingly. ‘Or at least we knew who you were when we were at Belvedere, and you don’t seem to have changed that much. There’s a whole leopard-and-spot thing here that I don’t plan to go in to.’
    â€˜No, I think she has changed,’ said Netty, waving a crisp in her direction. ‘Counselling, God preserve us—probably reads ink blots and facilitates group hugs with her inner child,’ she growled angrily.
    Jan nodded in agreement as Carol, giggling, inhaled her shandy, and protested, ‘No, no, look, I’m not a counsellor. I’m a gardener—and before you start on about that, there’s no need to go the whole Charlie Dimmock, Netty. Trust me, if I’d have realised that taking my bra off was a good career move I’d have done it years ago.’
    â€˜You think anyone would have noticed?’ asked Jan, deadpan. Netty choked.
    â€˜Oh, me-ow,’ hissed Adie, slapping Jan playfully and indicated to an imaginary waiter. ‘Saucer of milk, this table, please. The thing is, we need something to go on, Carol. We needthe facts, the dirt, the details. The whole enchilada. So, spill it.’
    â€˜This feels like a job interview,’ said Carol,