Read Online Sign of the Times by Susan Buchanan - Free Book Online Page A

to be on the phone to someone you’d met over the internet?   You know so much about them, but at the same time, so little.   How did he know everything she’d told him wasn’t a pack of lies?   She could have been a seventy year old woman or worse a thirteen year old girl, or even a sixty year old man.   OK, OK, let’s not get carried away.   She had told him she was thirty four and his gut feeling told him she was telling the truth.   Tom let Shirley chatter on, interjecting every so often, but taken aback by how lively and vivacious she was.   He supposed her emails always had been quite lengthy.   Eventually he overcame his nervousness and managed to speak to her with just as much ease as when they’d been online.   When he finally replaced the receiver he noticed he’d been on the phone for over an hour.

    On Wednesday, Tom had dinner with Francesca.   Shepherd’s pie , his favourite.   Francesca only ever made him three dishes and all of them, she proclaimed to be his favourite.
    As he shovelled another forkful into his mouth, he could hear Francesca wittering on about how perilous walking the Aonach Eagach ridge was.   Switching to autopilot, to block her out, a light bulb flashed on in Tom’s head.   That’s where he should meet Shirley.   She had mentioned last night that she’d like to meet and Tom, disconcerted had agreed.   They were to think about when and where.   Tom felt a little guilty about Holly, but justified Shirley’s presence by the fact they were simply friends.   As Francesca prated on, Tom decided Shirley should definitely come.   He was sure Simon wouldn’t have a problem fitting one more on the trip.   It would save on petrol too.   Convinced Shirley would be all for the idea, he let Francesca ramble on, safe in the knowledge he was going anyway.   She couldn’t stop him and what’s more, Shirley might be going too.
    His reverie was disturbed by his mobile ringing.    Holly.   A pang of guilt coursed through him and holding the phone away from him as if it carried MRSA he answered,
    “Hi Holly.”
    “Hi honey.   How are you?”
    “I’m fine thanks. At Francesca’s.”
    “Ah, old misery guts still making you eat shepherd’s pie then?” Holly guessed
    “Something like that,” Tom replied.
    “I miss you.”
    Tom’s heart lurched, partly with longing for Holly and partly with discomfort over his potential visit to Glencoe with Shirley.   How would Holly react if she knew?   She wouldn’t be too pleased, even if it was all perfectly innocent.
    He listened inattentively.   Finally, even Holly noticed.
    “Tom, are you OK?”
    “I’ve just had a long day,” he fibbed.   “Can I call you back?   It’s just that I’m at Francesca’s and I should really be…” he chose his words carefully, his sister seated opposite him, “making the most of it.”
    “O-o-k,” stuttered a stunned Holly, who had never before had Tom ring off on her, in favour of his domineering sister.   “Bye.”
    With a slightly awkward pause, Holly hung up.
    Shit, thought Tom, she’s not happy and she has very good reason to be put out. I’ll call her back later and …think of something .
    Tom gave himself up, in body, to his sister’s remonstrations, but his mind was elsewhere.

    Home again, Tom checked his mobile and saw Shirley had left a message.   The radio must have been too loud in the car.   Lifting the receiver of his landline, he placed it between his chin and his chest, whilst he searched for the Post-it he’d scribbled her number on.   Dialling the number, he’d just started twirling the cord between his thumb and index finger, when Shirley answered,
    “Shirley?” Tom greeted her affectionately.   “I just got your message.”
    “How you doing?”
    “Fine. I was at my sister’s.”
    “Oh right. Well, I was phoning to suggest somewhere to meet.”
    “Actually,” Tom interrupted her.   “I have an idea I think you’re going to love.