Read Online Dancing in the Dark by Susan Moody - Free Book Online Page B

other, blue eyes that tilt at the corners, and a shock of hair even darker than my own, albeit flecked with white. He’s what, middle thirties? Is he an actor, a TV person? Have I read about him somewhere?
    â€˜So,’ he continues, ‘I’m disappointed that you obviously have no recollection of me.’
    â€˜Uh . . .’
    The higher of his eyebrows flutters briefly. ‘I’m Fergus—’
    â€˜Fergus Costello!’ I say. ‘Of
course
I remember you.’ Though in truth, I have no more than a trace memory of him standing here, under this same walnut tree. And then I remember reading about him in the papers. Fergus Costello. It’s not a common name; I should have made the connection between the cheating lover and the man I’d met years ago. I can’t recall the exact details, but they involved other men’s wives, country estates, lurid tales of his sexual prowess. Ten times a night, that had certainly been mentioned. Maybe it’s just juicy silly-season scandal, but it still makes him either mad, bad or dangerous. Just the sort of thing I’m
really
looking for. I step back, eyeing the crowd for someone a bit less of all three.
    I see Max and Terry Cartwright over by the lily-pond. ‘I must go and say hello to Jenny’s parents. It’s been really nice to meet you again, Fergus. Maybe one of these days we can . . .’ I smile, give him a little wave and move off.
    â€˜Theo!’ Terry inclines her cheek for my kiss. ‘How lovely to see you.’
    â€˜And you, darling Terry.’
    â€˜You’re looking much too thin, honey. Are you all right?’
    â€˜Of course. Are
you
?’
    â€˜I guess so.’ Her cheerful face droops for a moment. Earlier in the year, her mother had died, loved and missed by all. ‘I’ve just got up the courage to start clearing out Nancy’s closets, and if you know anyone who takes size-three shoes, I’d be happy to pass them on.’
    Nancy Halloran was Surrey’s answer to Imelda Marcos, owner of a custom-built shoe-closet that held up to four hundred pairs at any one time.
    I look down at my own size sixes. ‘Can’t help, I’m afraid.’
    â€˜I can’t bear to throw out all those lovely handmade shoes.’
    â€˜If I hear of any shoeless midgets, I’ll be sure to let them know.’
    Terry and Max are –
were
, when I needed such things – my guardians, appointed by my mother when she sent me off to boarding school. Terry had been her closest friend since their own childhood in Canterbury. I love the Cartwrights as though they were my own parents which, in many respects, they are.
    â€˜How was your trip?’ Max asks.
    â€˜Great. Very successful.’
    â€˜You’ve done really well,’ he says. ‘Getting the business off the ground the way you have.’
    â€˜There’s still a long way to go,’ I say.
    â€˜Your mother’s so proud of you,’ Terry puts in. ‘She phoned last week. She’s in Sweden at the moment.’
    â€˜I know. Someone sent me an invitation.’
    â€˜I expect you’ll get together when she’s in London next week.’
    â€˜Mmm,’ I say.
    â€˜I tried to get her to come down and stay with us, but she says she prefers to be in a hotel.’ Terry turns to Max. ‘What’s the name of that funny little place she likes on the Edgware Road?’
    â€˜Can’t remember – some name that sounds like a Chinese takeaway.’
    â€˜Lotus Flower Hotel, that’s right.’
    I nod, hoping they don’t realize that I haven’t heard about this visit.
    â€˜We’ll miss her, anyway,’ Max says. ‘We’re off to Corfu for a couple of weeks.’
    I smile at them both. ‘You lucky things.’
    â€˜Why don’t you join us, darling?’ says Terry. ‘There’s plenty of room. And you look as though you could do