Read Online Transgressions by Sarah Dunant - Free Book Online Page A

ear, not intrusive, but always there. The tour and his presence quieted her. When they got to the attic, he said, “And how about through the little door? Into that big storage cupboard?”
    “I don’t think—”
    “Might as well be thorough.” And she knew he was laughing at her, just a little. But it didn’t really bother her. She opened the door and put on the light. A jumble of black bags and boxes met her gaze, the detritus of a lifetime. And a relationship.
    “Nothing,” she said. “Except seven years of Classical Music and the London Review of Books. I thought you said you’d cleared everything out.”
    “See. Now you know why I broke in.” And this time they both found it funny. “I’ll come ’round and pick them up sometime. But you’ll have to agree to let me in, okay?”
    “Okay,” she said, and found herself smiling as she did so.
    By the time they arrived back down in the kitchen all the fear and panic had gone, washed away. Somehow she had known they wouldn’t find anything. In fact, even as she’d been looking, heart thumping with each light going on, the house itself still hadn’t frightened her. Not really. Strange.
    “So, that’s it. It must have been the cat after all,” she said.
    “Thanks.”
    “ De nada. But listen, you do what I said, okay? Tomorrow you call the cops in to look at the place, give you some security tips. Then the next time this happens you can phone them. Get some hunk to hold your hand in the middle of the night.”
    “Will do.”
    “And, Lizzie?”
    “Yeah?”
    “Maybe . . . I mean, maybe you should get out a bit more. Get used to coming home to the house empty.”
    “How do you know I don’t?” she said quietly, not wanting to get angry again, but feeling it rise up despite herself.
    “Okay, okay. Don’t bite my head off. Patrick just mentioned something about your reclusive tendencies, that’s all. I . . . er . . . Anyway, you’re all right, I take it.”
    “Yes,” she said firmly. “I’m fine. I’ve just started on a book and I don’t want to be disturbed.”
    “Okay. Well, I . . . I just thought I’d check.”
    “And you have. It’s late. I’d better go,” she said, then immediately felt like a shit for being so brutal. “Listen, I’m sorry I went for you. I’m tired. I’ve been working too hard. You know how it is.”
    “Yeah, I do,” he said quietly. “You always were too conscientious for your own good.”
    “Also . . . well, I wanted to say I’m sorry about the job.”
    “What job?”
    “The one in Canada. Sal said you didn’t get it.”
    “Ah, well, see, that just goes to show how much the queen of gossip knows about anything. On the contrary, right at this moment you’re talking to the new associate professor of European history at Simon Fraser University. Signed, sealed, and delivered.”
    “Oh, but that’s great.” And she realized as she said it that she was, indeed, genuinely pleased. “Congratulations.” Maybe that explained the change in him since last time. The good humor and the easiness. “When do you go?”
    “Next semester. Just imagine: me and five hundred nubile West Coast girls all eager for my teaching.”
    She laughed. So did someone else down the other end of the phone. The laugh sounded light and female. Tom was playing to an audience now. It was time to go. “Yes, well, you should remember they’re all politically correct these days.”
    “Ah, but that’s only because they haven’t met me yet.”
    What had her mother said about him the first time they met? “Charm the birds right out of the trees.” God help the birds, whoever they were. “Yes, well, when you get chucked out for sexual harassment don’t call me as a character witness.”
    “Oh, I don’t know, I could always cite the night I saved you from the CD maniac.” And despite herself she laughed. “So what do you think, Lizzie? Maybe we could have a drink before I go. For old times’ sake,” he said, making it sound