Read Online The Story of My Heart by Margarita Felices - Free Book Online
Authors: Margarita Felices
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CHAPTER ONE
A few miles outside the busy city of Cardiff in South Wales, is the idyllic village of Cowbridge. The village has grown since its meagre beginnings as a medieval market town, and is an exclusive haven for business people who enjoy their sense of achievement and privacy. Most of the homes are built with stone fronts taken from the quarry a few miles down the road and timber beams are strategically placed to decorate the front fascia’s of the lavish five and six bedroom houses—giving them an almost mock-Tudor look. They are set back in lush, immaculately sculptured front gardens. The village also contains centuries-old thatched cottages situated off the main road, giving the tranquil village the most perfect picture postcard setting. But not all the homes are as expensive as those of their neighbours. A little further away from those large houses and towards the backend of the exclusive community, stands a row of smaller miner’s cottages.
At the end of the row of cottages is a pretty three bedroom home with a minimal front garden.
Megan Davies sat in her kitchen staring at the flyer that came through her letterbox that morning. In her mid-thirties, with a slender build, she pushed her medium brown, shoulder-length hair behind her ears, sipped her tea and perused the A5 colour flyer advertising a carnival in the nearby park. Her attention was particularly taken by the picture of its owner and what was printed underneath: Dave Roberts & Co. presents a Carnival Spectacular.
Megan stared into the distance. It wasn’t called that when the carnival came to the village eighteen years ago. Back then, it belonged to a real rogue called Ralph White, and Dave Roberts worked for him.
“Coo-eey!” The back door opened and Gwen poked her head around bringing Megan out of her daydream. “You decent?” she joked. “You look miles away; you haven’t got a man tucked away in here all to yourself have you?” Gwen had been Megan’s neighbour for the last five years. They hit it off straight away, sharing secrets about their husbands and the life they used to have before getting married. There was a ten year age gap between them. Gwen was close to fifty, although she acted as if she was in her twenties when they were out together. Gwen liked to wear designer clothing whereas Megan was happy to scruff around in a pair of supermarket jeans and a shirt. And even though the pair looked quite unconventional, over the years, they had got quite close and shared many secrets—mostly Gwen’s.
Megan smiled as she held the teacup in her hands. “I wish…” She said with a smile. “Sorry Gwen, I was miles away.”
Gwen looked down at the flyer. “Oh, you’ve seen it. I can’t believe it. I haven’t been to a carnival like it in donkey’s years.” She walked over to the kettle and switched it on. “Do you want a refill?”
“No, I’m okay” said Megan, “this one’s still hot.”
“Are you on your own?” asked Gwen.
Megan was still thinking about the flyer. She looked over at Gwen. “I used to know him, the person who owns the carnival now.”
Gwen poured her tea and sat down in front of Megan, smiling inquisitively. “Oh, Mr. Gorgeous. He caught my eye as well. So, how well did you know him?” “Oh, you won’t be interested in the story. It’s something I haven’t thought about in years.” She stood up and turned from the table. “Shall I get us something stronger?”
“Oh dear God. For you to break out the hard stuff, and it’s not even midday, there is something to tell.” She raised an eyebrow and made herself comfortable on the kitchen stool. “Come on, what did you and Mr. Gorgeous get up to when you knew him?”
Megan sighed. She’d buried the story so far back in her heart, it made her nervous to bring it all back up in case it reduced her to the same wreck she had been back then. She sat back on the stool and sighed deeply. Then looking
A few miles outside the busy city of Cardiff in South Wales, is the idyllic village of Cowbridge. The village has grown since its meagre beginnings as a medieval market town, and is an exclusive haven for business people who enjoy their sense of achievement and privacy. Most of the homes are built with stone fronts taken from the quarry a few miles down the road and timber beams are strategically placed to decorate the front fascia’s of the lavish five and six bedroom houses—giving them an almost mock-Tudor look. They are set back in lush, immaculately sculptured front gardens. The village also contains centuries-old thatched cottages situated off the main road, giving the tranquil village the most perfect picture postcard setting. But not all the homes are as expensive as those of their neighbours. A little further away from those large houses and towards the backend of the exclusive community, stands a row of smaller miner’s cottages.
At the end of the row of cottages is a pretty three bedroom home with a minimal front garden.
Megan Davies sat in her kitchen staring at the flyer that came through her letterbox that morning. In her mid-thirties, with a slender build, she pushed her medium brown, shoulder-length hair behind her ears, sipped her tea and perused the A5 colour flyer advertising a carnival in the nearby park. Her attention was particularly taken by the picture of its owner and what was printed underneath: Dave Roberts & Co. presents a Carnival Spectacular.
Megan stared into the distance. It wasn’t called that when the carnival came to the village eighteen years ago. Back then, it belonged to a real rogue called Ralph White, and Dave Roberts worked for him.
“Coo-eey!” The back door opened and Gwen poked her head around bringing Megan out of her daydream. “You decent?” she joked. “You look miles away; you haven’t got a man tucked away in here all to yourself have you?” Gwen had been Megan’s neighbour for the last five years. They hit it off straight away, sharing secrets about their husbands and the life they used to have before getting married. There was a ten year age gap between them. Gwen was close to fifty, although she acted as if she was in her twenties when they were out together. Gwen liked to wear designer clothing whereas Megan was happy to scruff around in a pair of supermarket jeans and a shirt. And even though the pair looked quite unconventional, over the years, they had got quite close and shared many secrets—mostly Gwen’s.
Megan smiled as she held the teacup in her hands. “I wish…” She said with a smile. “Sorry Gwen, I was miles away.”
Gwen looked down at the flyer. “Oh, you’ve seen it. I can’t believe it. I haven’t been to a carnival like it in donkey’s years.” She walked over to the kettle and switched it on. “Do you want a refill?”
“No, I’m okay” said Megan, “this one’s still hot.”
“Are you on your own?” asked Gwen.
Megan was still thinking about the flyer. She looked over at Gwen. “I used to know him, the person who owns the carnival now.”
Gwen poured her tea and sat down in front of Megan, smiling inquisitively. “Oh, Mr. Gorgeous. He caught my eye as well. So, how well did you know him?” “Oh, you won’t be interested in the story. It’s something I haven’t thought about in years.” She stood up and turned from the table. “Shall I get us something stronger?”
“Oh dear God. For you to break out the hard stuff, and it’s not even midday, there is something to tell.” She raised an eyebrow and made herself comfortable on the kitchen stool. “Come on, what did you and Mr. Gorgeous get up to when you knew him?”
Megan sighed. She’d buried the story so far back in her heart, it made her nervous to bring it all back up in case it reduced her to the same wreck she had been back then. She sat back on the stool and sighed deeply. Then looking
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