Read Online Sapphire and Shadow (A Woman's Life) by Marie Ferrarella - Free Book Online
Authors: Marie Ferrarella
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plane those terrorists bombed,” Johanna said, suddenly wanting to talk, to talk to a stranger because it didn’t hurt so much to tell a stranger things. “And I would have been on it, too.”
She said the last sentence softly, half to herself in wonder, abruptly remembering Paul’s urgings to leave London and fly home with him. If Paul had convinced her, she and Jocelyn would have been on that flight with him. And now it would be Harry collecting bits and pieces of them. Would he have wept? Would he have even cared? She thought of telling him, and then rejected the idea. The plain truth was that Harry didn’t care, not in his present state. It was useless to try and force him to be something other than what he was now. Nothing she had done thus far had accomplished anything to make him change.
She saw the cab driver’s eyes looking at her sympathetically in the rearview mirror.
“Oh, it’s sorry I am to hear that, mum.”
“That’s all right. I’m going to meet his widow now.”
“Then the meter’ll be off,” Gallegher said, gently but firmly.
Johanna rested her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes as the cab wove its way through midday traffic.
Chapter Eight
“I won’t take no for an answer, Johanna. You need to get out.”
Johanna held the telephone receiver in her hand as she paced about her bedroom. She was alone in the large suite. She had planned to spend the afternoon with her daughter only to find that the girl had gone, leaving a note in her wake. Not even so much as a verbal communication.
She felt completely useless. The meeting with Denise at Heathrow Airport had been dreadful. At least it accomplished Denise’s need to confirm that Paul’s body was missing without hope. But on a face-to-face basis it was agonizing. She loved Denise and felt for her, but it was a relief for Johanna finally to return to the apartment. But Harry was back on the set, and now she was left alone in the apartment with no one to talk to and only her own thoughts to contend with. And her thoughts were all too bleak.
Still, she felt a reticence about going out to lunch with Arlene. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the older woman. She did. And, in the right mood, Johanna found her company amusing. Arlene, ten years her senior, knew everything about everyone—Harry most definitely included. Her privileged information came by way of her marriage to Sam Baker and through the entertainment world connections she nurtured almost zealously. Bawdy, loquacious, she was born to gossip. Not to malign, but to share in whatever there was to share about other people’s lives.
And for what it was worth, she had, without warning, appointed herself Johanna’s guardian angel.
“You can’t stay locked up in that hotel room forever, sweetie.” For a moment, only for a moment, the woman’s voice softened. “I know how you must feel about the accident. “
“But—“
“No buts. At least,” Arlene laughed lustily, “none worth a second glance these days. Now, I’ll be by in half an hour. Sam’s busy with work Harry dumped on him today, so I’m totally fancy free and I intend to make you my fancy. Get dressed to the teeth, sweetie. I’m taking you out to lunch.”
She didn’t want to go, didn’t want to see anyone. “Arlene—“
“Fine, I take that as a yes. See you.” The line went dead.
Johanna hung up. A small smile curved her lips. Arlene was right, she had to get out, to do something, however meaningless, before she became dubbed the madwoman of the Hyatt Carlton Towers Hotel. Johanna glanced down at the plush carpet beneath her slippered feet. She had roamed her bedroom so much these last couple of days that she was surprised there weren’t worn paths in the rug.
With a sigh, half in resignation, half in anticipation, Johanna turned toward her closet.
True to her promise, Arlene was at her suite within half an hour. It never ceased to amaze Johanna that Arlene was always
She said the last sentence softly, half to herself in wonder, abruptly remembering Paul’s urgings to leave London and fly home with him. If Paul had convinced her, she and Jocelyn would have been on that flight with him. And now it would be Harry collecting bits and pieces of them. Would he have wept? Would he have even cared? She thought of telling him, and then rejected the idea. The plain truth was that Harry didn’t care, not in his present state. It was useless to try and force him to be something other than what he was now. Nothing she had done thus far had accomplished anything to make him change.
She saw the cab driver’s eyes looking at her sympathetically in the rearview mirror.
“Oh, it’s sorry I am to hear that, mum.”
“That’s all right. I’m going to meet his widow now.”
“Then the meter’ll be off,” Gallegher said, gently but firmly.
Johanna rested her head against the back of the seat and closed her eyes as the cab wove its way through midday traffic.
Chapter Eight
“I won’t take no for an answer, Johanna. You need to get out.”
Johanna held the telephone receiver in her hand as she paced about her bedroom. She was alone in the large suite. She had planned to spend the afternoon with her daughter only to find that the girl had gone, leaving a note in her wake. Not even so much as a verbal communication.
She felt completely useless. The meeting with Denise at Heathrow Airport had been dreadful. At least it accomplished Denise’s need to confirm that Paul’s body was missing without hope. But on a face-to-face basis it was agonizing. She loved Denise and felt for her, but it was a relief for Johanna finally to return to the apartment. But Harry was back on the set, and now she was left alone in the apartment with no one to talk to and only her own thoughts to contend with. And her thoughts were all too bleak.
Still, she felt a reticence about going out to lunch with Arlene. It wasn’t that she didn’t like the older woman. She did. And, in the right mood, Johanna found her company amusing. Arlene, ten years her senior, knew everything about everyone—Harry most definitely included. Her privileged information came by way of her marriage to Sam Baker and through the entertainment world connections she nurtured almost zealously. Bawdy, loquacious, she was born to gossip. Not to malign, but to share in whatever there was to share about other people’s lives.
And for what it was worth, she had, without warning, appointed herself Johanna’s guardian angel.
“You can’t stay locked up in that hotel room forever, sweetie.” For a moment, only for a moment, the woman’s voice softened. “I know how you must feel about the accident. “
“But—“
“No buts. At least,” Arlene laughed lustily, “none worth a second glance these days. Now, I’ll be by in half an hour. Sam’s busy with work Harry dumped on him today, so I’m totally fancy free and I intend to make you my fancy. Get dressed to the teeth, sweetie. I’m taking you out to lunch.”
She didn’t want to go, didn’t want to see anyone. “Arlene—“
“Fine, I take that as a yes. See you.” The line went dead.
Johanna hung up. A small smile curved her lips. Arlene was right, she had to get out, to do something, however meaningless, before she became dubbed the madwoman of the Hyatt Carlton Towers Hotel. Johanna glanced down at the plush carpet beneath her slippered feet. She had roamed her bedroom so much these last couple of days that she was surprised there weren’t worn paths in the rug.
With a sigh, half in resignation, half in anticipation, Johanna turned toward her closet.
True to her promise, Arlene was at her suite within half an hour. It never ceased to amaze Johanna that Arlene was always
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