Read Online The Return by Victoria Hislop - Free Book Online
Authors: Victoria Hislop
Tags: Fiction, General, Psychological fiction, Historical, Family, British, War & Military, Spain, Families, British - Spain, Spain - History - Civil War; 1936-1939 - Social Aspects, Granada (Spain)
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to dance . . .’
‘I know. I just feel completely wrung out. I’ll come tomorrow, I promise.’
Maggie continued to get herself ready, spraying on perfume, outlining her eyes in inky black, accentuating her long lashes with layers of mascara.
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right going on your own?’ Sonia added anxiously.
‘What’s the worst that can happen?’ laughed Maggie. ‘Everyone here is shorter than me. So I can always run away if I need to.’
Sonia knew that Maggie meant it, and that she was a match for anyone. There was no need to give a moment’s thought to her safety. Maggie was the most independent woman she knew.
Sonia continued to doze. At nine thirty, Maggie was ready to leave.
‘I’m going to have something to eat on the way. Are you sure you don’t want to come out with me?’
‘No, really. I just want to catch up on sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.’
For a second night, Sonia enjoyed the tranquillity of her single bed. Though noises continued to float up from the street, there was a magical silence in the space of the room. She loved the knowledge that she was going to be here alone, that no one could dent her peace of mind.
It was so different from those nights when she went to bed early, tired out from a long day at the office and then lay, tense, wondering when James was going to arrive home. Perhaps once or twice a week he would stagger through the front door at three or four in the morning and the stained-glass panes in the front door would shudder with the impact as it was slammed shut. He would then stumble up the stairs and collapse, fully clothed, onto the bed, his mouth breathing out the foul fumes of his evening’s excess. It was not the sex - fast, rough, and easily forgotten - that sometimes happened when he was in this state that repelled her most. It was the sour smell of stale alcohol that made her retch with disgust. It was a stench that revolted her more than any other in the world and she recoiled from this vast, dark hulk lying in the darkness next to her, rattling the stillness with his snores. On the mornings after these nights, there was no reference to his state of inebriation. James seemed to be able to rise at six without even a hangover, shower, dress in his City uniform and leave for work with the same punctuality as he did on any other day. It was as though he was unaware that anything out of the ordinary had even happened. No one else was aware either. In the picture book of marriage, they were the perfect married couple. It was a story told for an audience.
Now, as she lay in the semi-darkness, she felt her stomach contract with the recalled nausea of it all. She rolled over onto her side and soon felt the chill of tears on her pillow. This was meant to be a peaceful night, one where she caught up on her sleep. It was not intended to be a night in which she tortured herself with recollection of all that was wrong. Occasionally she fell into a fitful sleep and in the moments when she came to, she noticed that Maggie’s bed was still empty.
At three o’clock in the morning, she was just dropping off to sleep when the sound of a key in the lock disturbed her.
‘Are you still awake?’ whispered Maggie.
‘Yes,’ grunted Sonia. Even if she had been asleep the noise of Maggie stumbling into the room would have woken her.
‘I’ve had such a fantastic night,’ enthused Maggie, switching on the overhead light, oblivious to her friend’s mood.
‘I’m glad for you,’ Sonia answered, with ill-disguised annoyance in her voice.
‘Don’t be cross.You could have come with me!’
‘I know, I know. I don’t know why I didn’t really, for all the sleep I’ve had.’
‘You’re just afraid of letting your hair down,’ she said, tugging at the band that held her hair up and, as if to demonstrate her point, letting her thick, wavy locks tumble around her
‘I know. I just feel completely wrung out. I’ll come tomorrow, I promise.’
Maggie continued to get herself ready, spraying on perfume, outlining her eyes in inky black, accentuating her long lashes with layers of mascara.
‘Are you sure you’ll be all right going on your own?’ Sonia added anxiously.
‘What’s the worst that can happen?’ laughed Maggie. ‘Everyone here is shorter than me. So I can always run away if I need to.’
Sonia knew that Maggie meant it, and that she was a match for anyone. There was no need to give a moment’s thought to her safety. Maggie was the most independent woman she knew.
Sonia continued to doze. At nine thirty, Maggie was ready to leave.
‘I’m going to have something to eat on the way. Are you sure you don’t want to come out with me?’
‘No, really. I just want to catch up on sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.’
For a second night, Sonia enjoyed the tranquillity of her single bed. Though noises continued to float up from the street, there was a magical silence in the space of the room. She loved the knowledge that she was going to be here alone, that no one could dent her peace of mind.
It was so different from those nights when she went to bed early, tired out from a long day at the office and then lay, tense, wondering when James was going to arrive home. Perhaps once or twice a week he would stagger through the front door at three or four in the morning and the stained-glass panes in the front door would shudder with the impact as it was slammed shut. He would then stumble up the stairs and collapse, fully clothed, onto the bed, his mouth breathing out the foul fumes of his evening’s excess. It was not the sex - fast, rough, and easily forgotten - that sometimes happened when he was in this state that repelled her most. It was the sour smell of stale alcohol that made her retch with disgust. It was a stench that revolted her more than any other in the world and she recoiled from this vast, dark hulk lying in the darkness next to her, rattling the stillness with his snores. On the mornings after these nights, there was no reference to his state of inebriation. James seemed to be able to rise at six without even a hangover, shower, dress in his City uniform and leave for work with the same punctuality as he did on any other day. It was as though he was unaware that anything out of the ordinary had even happened. No one else was aware either. In the picture book of marriage, they were the perfect married couple. It was a story told for an audience.
Now, as she lay in the semi-darkness, she felt her stomach contract with the recalled nausea of it all. She rolled over onto her side and soon felt the chill of tears on her pillow. This was meant to be a peaceful night, one where she caught up on her sleep. It was not intended to be a night in which she tortured herself with recollection of all that was wrong. Occasionally she fell into a fitful sleep and in the moments when she came to, she noticed that Maggie’s bed was still empty.
At three o’clock in the morning, she was just dropping off to sleep when the sound of a key in the lock disturbed her.
‘Are you still awake?’ whispered Maggie.
‘Yes,’ grunted Sonia. Even if she had been asleep the noise of Maggie stumbling into the room would have woken her.
‘I’ve had such a fantastic night,’ enthused Maggie, switching on the overhead light, oblivious to her friend’s mood.
‘I’m glad for you,’ Sonia answered, with ill-disguised annoyance in her voice.
‘Don’t be cross.You could have come with me!’
‘I know, I know. I don’t know why I didn’t really, for all the sleep I’ve had.’
‘You’re just afraid of letting your hair down,’ she said, tugging at the band that held her hair up and, as if to demonstrate her point, letting her thick, wavy locks tumble around her
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