Read Online Women of a Dangerous Age by Fanny Blake - Free Book Online Page B

peppermint on his breath. By the time she’d hung uphis coat, he was sitting on the sofa, staring into the middle distance, elbows on knees, hands steepled in front of his face, fingers tapping against one another. His shoulders rose and fell with each breath.
    â€˜How was Christmas?’ she tried.
    â€˜Yeah. Fine.’ He still didn’t look at her. And he didn’t mention his wife.
    â€˜Is something the matter? Difficult day?’ This was hardly the reunion she’d envisaged.
    â€˜I’m sorry.’ He snapped out of his reverie and turned to her. ‘Something at work’s bothering me. That’s all. Give me a minute or two to come down. I want to hear about the holiday.’
    Experience had taught Ali never to probe into whatever was troubling a lover. Her role was to distract, to provide an alternative to their other world. That was why they liked coming here. Her apartment was a retreat, not just for her, but for those men who had lives they wanted to forget for a few hours. Spending time with her was therapeutic although she was no therapist. She asked no awkward questions, never held them to any kind of emotional ransom. And in return, she got to run her life just as she wanted it.
    She busied herself by bringing over two small bowls from the kitchen, one filled with the black olives he liked, and the other with cashews. After returning for the bottle of Medoc and two glasses, she turned her iPod to Pachelbel’s Canon in D Major, one of the most soothing pieces of music she knew, and went over to him. She was practised in jogging a man out of his worries for a few hours. That was what she did. As she sat down, she thought she heardhim sigh but she just tucked her feet under her and sat with her head resting on his shoulder. This was where she belonged now. This was how they would spend so many evenings in the future, just the two of them.
    â€˜I’ve missed you,’ she murmured. ‘Really missed you.’
    â€˜Have you?’ he asked, sounding as if he was a million miles away.
    â€˜I think that was your cue to say how much you’ve missed me.’ She gave a nervous laugh, sat up and looked at him, puzzled by what could be distracting him so much, feeling the first whisper of alarm.
    But instead of turning to her, he stood up and went over to the window, staring out across the communal garden. His hands were in his pockets, jingling his loose change. ‘Of course I did. You must know that.’
    â€˜But it would be nice to be told.’ Annoyed with herself for sounding like the nagging wife she imagined he was escaping, she tried again. ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve been so looking forward to seeing you.’ Going over to stand behind him, she wrapped her arms around his waist. ‘We could go upstairs. Or I’ve got champagne in the fridge.’
    â€˜Not yet.’ He turned and kissed her nose. ‘I’ve got a lot on my mind at the moment. I probably shouldn’t have come.’
    â€˜But we haven’t seen each other for weeks. We’ve got so much to talk about.’ She took both his hands and kissed him back. Over the two years she had known him, Ali couldn’t remember a time when he had refused an invitation to her bedroom. But, having trained herself not to question her lovers’ moods but just to wait them out, shedidn’t object. She was confident he’d tell her what was bothering him when he was ready. Despite her growing unease, she was prepared to wait. Worming his troubles from him was a wife’s job, not a mistress’s. In a few weeks, when everyone knew they were together, things would be different. They would be able to talk and share so much more than they ever had before. She would get to know him so much better. She could afford to maintain a sympathetic silence now.
    â€˜Tell me about your holiday.’ He held her hand and guided her back to the sofa.
    â€˜How long have