Read Online Just a Family Affair by Veronica Henry - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Veronica Henry
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Now it was completely stripped out, with polished flagstones, creamy walls, and low sofas. A huge glass vase crammed with brightly coloured birds of paradise stood on the bar, behind which was a chalked-up menu and wines by the glass. It still felt traditional and English, but with a contemporary edge.
This boded well, thought Kay. Honeycote Ales had clearly got their arse into gear.
‘Did you want an extra bed for the little one?’ The landlord was polite. And rather gorgeous. Early thirties, she guessed. Quite posh. Things had definitely changed. The previous incumbent had been a dishevelled drunk. She smiled at him, wondering if he might be a useful source of information. Not now, because she was exhausted. But perhaps tomorrow.
‘No. She can share with me.’
It was a habit she had got into, and one she knew would be hard to break. But it gave her comfort, to have Flora’s warm little body next to her at night. And the urge to protect her was enormous. Flora had almost stopped weeping for Lawrence, but she still talked about him, her little face screwed up with anxiety as to where exactly he was and what he was doing. And Kay knew that one day she was going to have to tell her the truth.
‘Fine. Well, I’m Barney. Barney Blake. My wife Suzanna runs the kitchen. So if there’s anything we can do for you during your stay . . .’
His welcoming smile reached his eyes, and Kay felt heartened. She knew she probably couldn’t afford to stay here for long, but while she could, she was going to enjoy the luxury. She decided to have supper sent up to her room. She didn’t quite have the nerve to go down to the bar to eat, even though they had assured her she was welcome, as she couldn’t be sure who might pop in for a Sunday evening pint. She refrained from telling Barney that she used to live in the village, explaining that she was in the area on business. Which wasn’t so very far from the truth.
Half an hour later, Flora tucked into boiled eggs with soldiers and Kay devoured sausage and mash. It was the first time she had felt hungry for months. She almost felt relaxed, snug and protected from the real world. Flora had laid her teddy carefully out on the bed they were to share. When they’d finished, she chucked Flora into the bath then into her pyjamas. The little girl was soon asleep, and Kay snuggled down next to her with the Sunday papers and the telly on quietly. It might be unprepossessing March, with a bitter wind outside, but Kay felt as if she had come home.
If only Lawrence had come clean to her. She felt sure he had been hiding his problems. He would be furious with himself if he knew how things had turned out. Flora was his princess. But he was dead, Kay reminded herself, and nothing was going to bring him back. It was up to her. And the moment of reckoning was getting closer and closer. She couldn’t put it off much longer. She could only afford to stay here a week, for a start. Strictly speaking, she should have checked into a bed and breakfast at thirty pounds a night, but she’d had enough of candlewick bedspreads and Glade air freshener at her parents’.
She looked at the phone, trying to screw up the courage, but her resolve trickled away. She was drained from the drive, not to mention the emotional turmoil of coming back to Honeycote and all the memories that had unleashed. She decided she would leave it until tomorrow. Monday morning was a good time to get things done. Not Sunday night.
After all, you could hardly ring someone during the Antiques Roadshow and tell them they had a long-lost daughter. And that you were expecting them to cough up.
Three
A ngela Perkins’ mother lived at the end of a semi-circle of council houses on the Eldenbury side of Honeycote. There were dark red quarry tiles on the kitchen floor, and a larder cupboard, the shelves covered with sticky-back plastic, and iron window frames. Had Elsie still been a council tenant it would have had central heating and
This boded well, thought Kay. Honeycote Ales had clearly got their arse into gear.
‘Did you want an extra bed for the little one?’ The landlord was polite. And rather gorgeous. Early thirties, she guessed. Quite posh. Things had definitely changed. The previous incumbent had been a dishevelled drunk. She smiled at him, wondering if he might be a useful source of information. Not now, because she was exhausted. But perhaps tomorrow.
‘No. She can share with me.’
It was a habit she had got into, and one she knew would be hard to break. But it gave her comfort, to have Flora’s warm little body next to her at night. And the urge to protect her was enormous. Flora had almost stopped weeping for Lawrence, but she still talked about him, her little face screwed up with anxiety as to where exactly he was and what he was doing. And Kay knew that one day she was going to have to tell her the truth.
‘Fine. Well, I’m Barney. Barney Blake. My wife Suzanna runs the kitchen. So if there’s anything we can do for you during your stay . . .’
His welcoming smile reached his eyes, and Kay felt heartened. She knew she probably couldn’t afford to stay here for long, but while she could, she was going to enjoy the luxury. She decided to have supper sent up to her room. She didn’t quite have the nerve to go down to the bar to eat, even though they had assured her she was welcome, as she couldn’t be sure who might pop in for a Sunday evening pint. She refrained from telling Barney that she used to live in the village, explaining that she was in the area on business. Which wasn’t so very far from the truth.
Half an hour later, Flora tucked into boiled eggs with soldiers and Kay devoured sausage and mash. It was the first time she had felt hungry for months. She almost felt relaxed, snug and protected from the real world. Flora had laid her teddy carefully out on the bed they were to share. When they’d finished, she chucked Flora into the bath then into her pyjamas. The little girl was soon asleep, and Kay snuggled down next to her with the Sunday papers and the telly on quietly. It might be unprepossessing March, with a bitter wind outside, but Kay felt as if she had come home.
If only Lawrence had come clean to her. She felt sure he had been hiding his problems. He would be furious with himself if he knew how things had turned out. Flora was his princess. But he was dead, Kay reminded herself, and nothing was going to bring him back. It was up to her. And the moment of reckoning was getting closer and closer. She couldn’t put it off much longer. She could only afford to stay here a week, for a start. Strictly speaking, she should have checked into a bed and breakfast at thirty pounds a night, but she’d had enough of candlewick bedspreads and Glade air freshener at her parents’.
She looked at the phone, trying to screw up the courage, but her resolve trickled away. She was drained from the drive, not to mention the emotional turmoil of coming back to Honeycote and all the memories that had unleashed. She decided she would leave it until tomorrow. Monday morning was a good time to get things done. Not Sunday night.
After all, you could hardly ring someone during the Antiques Roadshow and tell them they had a long-lost daughter. And that you were expecting them to cough up.
Three
A ngela Perkins’ mother lived at the end of a semi-circle of council houses on the Eldenbury side of Honeycote. There were dark red quarry tiles on the kitchen floor, and a larder cupboard, the shelves covered with sticky-back plastic, and iron window frames. Had Elsie still been a council tenant it would have had central heating and
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