Read Online The Doll's House by Tania Carver - Free Book Online

results. And Gary Franks is an old friend of mine. I trust him. If he says you’re good, you’re good.’
    â€˜Let’s hope so,’ said Phil.
    â€˜Yes,’ said Cotter. ‘Let’s.’
    Phil sensed the meeting was at an end. He rose, left the room, ready to get to work. ‘If you could think about some extra bodies, I’d be very grateful.’
    â€˜I’m sure. We need a result on this one. Let’s make sure we get it.’
    Walking out, he felt less reassured than when he had gone in.

12
    M arina had chased her hangover away long enough to get out of bed, make herself a coffee and get back in with the morning papers. Josephina had spent the night with Eileen and she was enjoying the first lie-in she had had for several weeks. She was under the duvet, an old Natalie Merchant album on the bedroom CD player, the mug of hot coffee to her lips, when her mobile rang.
    She placed the coffee on the bedside table, picked it up. Her first thought was: Eileen.
Something’s happened to Josephina
. But she dismissed it from her mind. She could be forgiven for thinking like that after everything that had happened recently. Her second thought: Phil. Catching up with her, wishing her a good morning since they had missed each other the night before.
    The night before. She shuddered.
    She checked the phone’s display. It was neither of those. It was a number she didn’t recognise. She answered.
    â€˜Hello?’
    â€˜Good morning.’ The voice overly cheerful, a redcoat at a holiday camp chivvying up the late sleepers.
    Oh God
, thought Marina,
a sales call
, and made to hang up.
    â€˜Not up and about yet, Marina? Shame on you. Glorious day, you’re missing it.’
    She stopped, finger poised above the button. She knew that voice. It took her a few seconds but she placed it. Hugo Gwilym.
    â€˜Hugo?’
    â€˜Who else would it be?’ He gave a chuckle. That was the only way she could categorise the sound – a chuckle.
    She looked round the room, confused. It somehow felt wrong hearing his voice in here. This was her and Phil’s room. Private. She felt stupid and a little ashamed for thinking it, but it was almost like an invasion.
    â€˜How… What are you calling for?’
    â€˜Just wanted to say thank you. For last night.’
    She said nothing. Waited for her memory to come back.
    â€˜You can’t remember last night?’ Another chuckle, deeper this time, heavy with meaning. ‘I can.’
    â€˜Course…’ Could she? Her memory flashed back. What was he talking about? What had happened? She tried to order events. The details were cloudy. She was sure she hadn’t drunk that much. She tried to think. The dinner. Everyone talking, laughing. Then Hugo arrived. Smarming all over her. She could remember glances and looks from the rest of the table, not all of them approving. Had she done something wrong? She didn’t think so. They had chatted. Well, argued was a better word. He had explained his theories, she had rebutted them. Then… nothing. It all became hazy from there on.
    She looked round the room once more. Her clothes were piled on the chair in the corner where she had taken them off before getting into bed. She could barely remember that. Or how she got home.
    Her face reddened, her heart tripped. How much had she had to drink? Not much. A gin and tonic before the dinner, a couple of glasses of red during. Nothing after. Her colleagues were still pretty new – she didn’t want to make a fool of herself in front of them so she had been moderating her intake. And then… nothing. Until she woke up.
    â€˜Good,’ he said. ‘Wouldn’t want to think you’d forgotten me.’
    She had no idea what he was talking about or what had happened, so she said nothing.
    â€˜Speechless? Not like you. You are still there, aren’t you?’
    â€˜Yes, yes, I’m still