Read Online Who's Afraid of Mr Wolfe? by Hazel Osmond - Free Book Online Page A

before I went to work.’ Ellie saw Edith do a little gesture as if she were about to remonstrate. ‘Now, don’t make me get all sentimental,’ she said quickly, ‘or I’ll start telling you how much you mean to me now Mum and Dad are … well, you know.’
    She felt Edith squeeze her arm. ‘You’re a sweetheart Ellie dear, but don’t worry about me, please. I’ll rest when I need to. You concentrate on those knickers of yours.’
    Edith offered her cheek for kissing before toddling off into the spare room.
    Ellie wandered back into the kitchen and found a spare key to the flat and put it in an envelope. She’d leave it on Edith’s breakfast tray in the morning. If she was going to keep turning up on the doorstep, she might as well be able to let herself in.
    Sam got back in the early hours of the morning, smelling of beer and giggling inanely. He snuggled up to her back, winding himself round her, and Ellie told him that her knickers had gone down well. She wriggled against him, being deliberately provocative and hoping he’d take the hint. He didn’t, simply patted her on the bottom, said, ‘Well done,’ and then fell asleep.
    *
     
    Next morning Ellie stood in the lingerie shop and gulped. It was a real eye-opener. She held up a hanger and looked at the price tag on the attached knickers. Never had so much been charged for so little. Two teeny wisps of material held together by rhinestone-covered laces cost as much as a three-course meal for two. With wine. It was unbelievable what some people would pay for underwear.
    Then Ellie’s eyes strayed to the other things in the shop. Nipple tassles, blindfolds, handcuffs. All in the best possible taste, of course. She felt a bit uneasy. It was as if she were peeping through a keyhole at slightly forbidden stuff, stuff that people with more glamorous lives than hers would wear.
    Silk, satin, marabou feathers: it was difficult to know what to choose. In the end she picked out a pair of the hottest, pinkest knickers with tiny black ribbon bows up each side. Perfect for the sex-kitten character. On the way to pay for them, she was distracted by a set of bra and knickers in pale gold with delicate cream lace trimmings. She expected that they only did the bra in svelte model-girl cups, but the assistant gave her an assessing once-over and produced Ellie’s exact size.
    In the changing room, designed to look like someone’s idea of a brothel, Ellie looked at her reflection and actually blushed. The bra pushed her up in all the right places, and the knickers barely covered any of her important bits. She had never seen herself like that before. The colourcomplemented the gold and red in her hair and her skin tone, and the feel of the material was lovely.
    She automatically crossed her arms over her breasts. She wasn’t used to ‘getting them out’. Her preferred way of dressing was to cover them up. Her breasts had arrived a good year earlier than any of her schoolmates’ and the boys had all made icky comments. Hiding them had been her only defence.
    Apart from developing a penis-shrivelling sense of humour.
    Nonetheless, she still had that hiding thing going on. Her mother had been constantly pulling her shoulders back, telling her she’d get a stoop.
    Ellie thought of Rachel and uncrossed her arms and stuck her chest out. Well, perhaps she’d save that for Sam’s personal viewing. She did look hot, though. She gave her everyday underwear, lying on the floor, a pitying look as if it were some ugly relation who insisted on following her. Another twirl round in front of the mirror and she wondered whether she had the nerve to buy a blindfold too. No, definitely not. The only way she’d ever be able to tackle that was through mail order; she couldn’t face an assistant. Although, by the look of the assistant on the till, she probably wouldn’t have batted an eyelid if Ellie had wanted to buy a full-length, crotchless rubber suit with thigh-high tartan