Read Online Sally by Freya North - Free Book Online

with it.’
    Actually, Saturday morning, breakfast in bed, the paper and you would do nicely. But you shan’t know that.
    â€˜With which historical figure do you most identify?’
    â€˜Lady Godiva.’
    â€˜Which living person do you most admire?’
    â€˜Aunt Celia. She’s seventy and has the strength of an ox and the courage of Samson.’
    â€˜What vehicles do you own?’
    â€˜Strong pair of legs.’
    â€˜And a Mini Cooper. What is your greatest extravagance?’
    â€˜Danish pastries.’
    â€˜And
tiramisù
for breakfast?’
    Sally blushed.
    â€˜Sal, you’re blushing! What objects do you always carry with you?’
    â€˜Donor card, paracetamol, rape alarm, pocket hankies, emery board, safety pins, stamps, address book.’
    â€˜Am I in it?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜What makes you most depressed?’
    â€˜Child abuse. Oh, and synthetic cream.’
    â€˜What do you most dislike about your appearance?’
    â€˜I rather like it!’
    â€˜Sally!’ Richard chastized.
    â€˜Okay, my bikini line hair,’ Sally confided.
    â€˜What is your most unappealing habit?’
    â€˜I don’t have any.’
    â€˜Sally!’ Richard warned again.
    â€˜Oh, God. Okay, I fart in the bath.’ They fell about laughing and Richard admitted quite happily that he did too.
    â€˜What would you like for your next birthday?’
    â€˜An answerphone. No, a weekend in Boston.’
    â€˜When is your birthday?’
    â€˜Next year. May the nineteenth.’
    â€˜What is your favourite word?’
    â€˜Funicular.’
    â€˜You
what
?’
    â€˜It’s a lovely word to say. Try it.’
    â€˜Fu-nic-u-lar. Hmm. What is your favourite journey?’
    â€˜The road to Oban, the boat to Mull; to Aunt Celia’s.’
    â€˜Who are your favourite musicians?’
    â€˜Genesis, Van the Man, Dylan.’
    â€˜Anyone told you it’s now the 1990s? Who are your favourite writers?’
    â€˜Alice Thomas Ellis and Jane Austen.’
Oh, and Ms Collins.
    â€˜What or who is the greatest love of your life?’
    She panicked momentarily and looked at him blankly. ‘Myself?’ she ventured. He seemed pleased with that.
    â€˜Which living person do you most despise?’
    â€˜Despise? I don’t care much for Myra Hindley or Peter Sutcliffe.’
    â€˜What do you consider the most overrated virtue?’
    â€˜Chasteness. Decorum.’ Richard raised his eyebrows at the intensity of her proclamation.
    â€˜What is your greatest regret?’
    â€˜Not being good enough to go to ballet school.’
    â€˜Ballet?’
    â€˜Ten years of it.’
    â€˜That explains your hyper-mobility then! When and where were you happiest?’
    â€˜Childhood holidays at Aunt Celia’s in Mull.’
    â€˜What single thing would improve the quality of your life?’
    â€˜A farmhouse in Tuscany.’
    â€˜And the dark, swarthy man?’
    â€˜Him too.’
    â€˜What would your motto be?’
    â€˜Don’t look before you leap.’
    â€˜How would you like to die?’
    â€˜When I’m ready.’
    â€˜How would you like to be remembered?’
    â€˜With desire and longing and a twinkle in the eye.’
    â€˜Thank you, Ms Lomax,’ said Richard, pouring her another cup of Earl Grey and stirring it with the microphone, ‘that was intriguing!’
    And necessary, my love.
‘But there’s one more question,’ he asked lasciviously, ‘how do you like it best?’
    Sally smirked. ‘Milk, no sugar?’ she ventured.
    Richard raised his eyebrows in a that-won’t-do fashion.
    â€˜I’ll show you later. First, there’s the small but pressing issue of your answers, Richard Stonehill.’
    â€˜And then you’ll show me?’
    â€˜Then I’ll show you.’

NINE
    â€˜R ichard Stonehill, thirty-five, architect, new-age man and all