Nomance by T Price (read an ebook week txt) 📕

moretightly around her shoulders. Suddenly, wildly, madly, David washolding her, his warm lips so very, very close to hers, and then .. . the shattering slam of the front door shook the whole city toits foundations.

She woke with a painfulstart and found herself at home in bed.

As always, whenever shewoke at night, she seemed to catch Romance in the act ofsucking the life out of her, like a vampire. She lay there,helpless, as her youth slipped away – nothing more than a fadingdream. She was locked in the grip of an utter hopelessness and shealmost cried out in her despair. As so often before.

Then she remembered –David was real. A real dream man.

Damn, it was almost toogood to be true!

And not only was he areal dream man -- he was fighting for her in court!

True, he wassupposed to be Juliet lawyer,.because Juliet was contestingCarla’s claim to the child. But really, and a bit secretlytoo, he on her side. And Philip’s side too, because Philipwas his old friend. And apart from being dishy beyond words, Davidwas a fantastic lawyer. He assured her that he was extraordinarlyconfident about losing Juliet’s case. And even if he hadn’t been afantatic lawyer, Carla could see for herself that Juliet had begunto show all the signs of an incipient nervous breakdown, and theway she ranted and raved in front of the judge wasn’t doing her anyfavours.

Oh yes indeed, thetransformation of Juliet from a haughty metropolitan middle classtype – the very species who patronised Romance soinsufferably – into a hollow-eyed female loon was a memory Carlawould long cherish. But the real star of the show was, of course,David himself. He was putting up a magnificent-looking fight forher rights in the case. Such a contrast to Philip, who was actuallyJuliet’s husband. Oh, it was sickening how he attended to her everylittle need in court, putting on a show like he shared her pain andwhispering to her, ‘Strong, Jules, be strong.’

David could never besuch a two-faced shit to his wife. He didn’t pretend that he likedher when he hated her really. No, he was unflinchingly cutting herout of his life. That was a real man. He was a tower of strengthand she’d had no trouble pouring her heart out to him . . Well,he’d asked her to, because the more he knew about her, he said, thebetter he could tip-toe around any area in her life that was bestkept quiet about in court.

In return, he hadrevealed his own past with devastating honesty.

He admitted that someyears before he had entered into an arranged marriage, simply toplease his aged mother. His parents were from the Punjab and werevery conservative. Well, as he should have foreseen, the marriageto Angit hadn’t worked. Perhaps they should never have moved intohis mother’s house in Hounslow. Angit couldn’t tolerate hismother’s overbearing manner. As a compromise, David had added anannex to the house – a granny flat – so they could all have theirown space. But what happened was, after yet another dreadfulscreaming match, Angit was the one who moved into the granny flat,not his mother. David spotted his opportunity, and had theconnecting door walled up. From that day on, he took it as readthat Angit and he were separated. With a smile breaking out on hissensitive, rakishly handsome face, he told Carla that in a coupleof months he could start divorce proceedings. Indeed, in tellinghis story he seemed rather amused by everything that had happenedto his marriage.

Before she could stopherself, Carla had asked whether there was anyone else in his lifenow.

‘Maybe,’ he said in alow voice that was full of dark, wondrous hints.

Carla had oscillatedbetween hope and despair ever since. Their meetings were bliss,their partings hell. Carla was sure that, despite his brave front,David had been so hurt he was afraid to show his real feelings. Shealmost trembled in her bed now as she recalled her resolve todeclare her love soon. There wasn’t much time, the courtproceedings would be over by the end of the month. She would winand Philip would pay up the money, as agreed. After that, she wouldsell Romance and with the proceeds from the sale, and Philip’sbribe, she would have enough capital to begin again.

To that end, she hadasked David to look over different franchise contracts and assessthem for her. He was going to give her his report tomorrow. Perhapsthat would be her best opportunity – or maybe she was being toohasty. And yet, after the court case, every connection between themwould be severed.

Oh, the notion wascrushing. No! She had to tell him what she felt today . . .

Just then, a muffledbump from downstairs interrupted her tremulous meditations.

Carla strained herears. She caught something like a voice, and then another. Halffearful and half eager, she slipped out of bed and picked up theextra-powerful air rifle – one of Gwynne’s – which she kept proppedagainst the dressing table – and, having loaded this and pumped itup to maximum strength, she left the room and crept downstairs inthe dark.

Light was shining fromunder the kitchen door at the end of the hallway. She could heartwo voices now and although she recognised the more stupid-soundingone as Gwynne’s, she nevertheless stalked up to the door like shewas going to burst through and kill someone.

At the very last momentshe took her finger off the trigger and stole through into thekitchen.

Gwynne was slouched atthe table and a big-boned young woman was poking through thecupboards, emitting a simpering burble as she went.

‘Alright, Carl!’ Gwynneyelled when he saw her, breaking out into a sottish grin. The womanturned with the least-rapid surprise Carla had ever seen, andpresented a large, dozy face.

‘Hi!’ She whinnied.

Carla put the safety onthe rifle. ‘Evening.’

‘This is Louisa, Carl,’Gwynne slurred with a shapeless grin.

Carla sighed and leanedthe rifle against the fridge. ‘Gwynne’s told me all about you.’ Shestepped up to Louisa with her hand extended. ‘I’m Carla, pleased tomeet you.’

Louisa dragged her eyesaway from the rifle, examined Carla’s hand and put her own into it.‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

Pumping her hand, Carlaanswered, ‘Don’t mention it . . . what for?’

‘We