The Age of Misadventure. Judy Leigh

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Название The Age of Misadventure
Автор произведения Judy Leigh
Жанр Юмористическая фантастика
Серия
Издательство Юмористическая фантастика
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008269234



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where he can control you. You’re just his little pawn.’

      ‘He bought me this.’ She whisks up her sleeve.

      There’s a gold charm bracelet, loaded with shiny charms. She pushes her hand under my nose and I stare at the delicate gold shapes swinging: numbers, a flower, a crown, a mass of other tinkling trinkets.

      I shake my head. ‘That wasn’t cheap.’

      She looks directly in my eyes. ‘He said I’m worth the expense.’

      I exhale. ‘It must give you a carpal tunnel problem …’

      ‘He made me promise never to take it off, Georgie. It’s a symbol of his love. Eternal and precious.’

      I snort. ‘Did he get it in one of his dodgy deals?’

      She opens her mouth to reply but her phone rings. She clutches it like a weapon and walks into another room. I breathe out sharply: I’m annoyed with myself. I should’ve convinced her calmly to leave him, kept my temper. My concern for my sister has made me outspoken. She’s too good for him, trusting and loyal. And here I go again, arguing with her, when all I really want is to protect her. Bonnie’s always been good-natured, but she used to have her own personality, a sparkiness, humour. I wonder when she became so dependent, so gullible. What happened to her self-confidence, her self-respect? I drain my glass and pour myself more wine.

       Chapter Four

      I finish a second glass of Chablis and the sound of heels makes me look up. Her voice is high, aghast, panicking.

      ‘Georgie, I can’t believe it.’ Bonnie rushes back into the room, waving her phone. She grasps my arm and I’m amazed at the vice-like squeeze. ‘Something’s happened. I need your advice.’ She propels me towards the huge patio doors, heaves one open and thrusts me out into the garden. ‘That was Demi.’

      I shiver. The grass is damp and my boots sink into the softness of soil. There are snowdrops on the lawn, creamy white, pale orange, a patchwork of colour leading to the swimming pool complex. I imagine how nice it would be to be in their sauna – my skin is suddenly gooseflesh.

      Bonnie’s eyes are wide. ‘Demi rang me.’

      ‘From the three-month Thailand honeymoon?’

      She takes my wrist, squeezes the skin.

      ‘She’s phoned me to say that she’s having such a good time in Thailand, they might go on to Australia and stay for a bit. Isn’t that awful? What do you think?’

      ‘They’re young. They have no ties. They don’t need to rush back.’

      ‘Adie’ll be furious – she didn’t ask him first.’

      ‘There’ll be plenty of time to finish off the decorating in their extension, to paint the feature wall in the new shade of Addiction. Perhaps that’s why Demi and Kyle are extending their honeymoon. Perhaps they want to stay away from Adie.’

      She wails, ‘What about me? I’ll miss her. She said they might be away for another three months. What shall I do?’

      ‘I think they’ve made a good decision, Bon.’

      She’s staring at me.

      ‘Adie paid a fortune for the refurbishment of the extension for them in time for the summer. A new kitchen, a bathroom suite. He’ll be livid.’

      I watch my sister and wonder why she’s so loyal to him.

      ‘Demi and Kyle want to be together. By themselves. They just got married. It’s a good thing, Bonnie.’

      Her face crumples and she starts to snuffle. ‘My baby’s gone … All grown up and gone away. Now there’s just me.’

      I hug her again. I’ll give her a few seconds and then I’ll suggest she comes to my house, moves into the spare room and starts a new life for herself. Or that she starts to think for herself; that she becomes her own person rather than a cardboard cut-out wife.

      I’m about to tell her that it’ll all work out for the best, but she pushes me out of the way.

      She announces, ‘I have to tell Adie,’ and her heels are tapping through the breezy patio windows; she’s sashaying through the dining room and towards the steps down to the next level, down to Adie’s lair below.

      I belt after her, leaving the patio door wide and the draught swirling, the cold air wafting above the warmth of the underfloor central heating. I catch up with her at the bottom of the steps, by the big oak door, which is ajar. She’s about to knock.

      Voices rattle inside. Adie’s hushed tones and another voice, a more throaty bark. My fingers close over Bonnie’s wrist, stopping her from knocking, and I hold my breath. Adie’s said something about handing over money. He won’t be able to do it for a week or two. The guttural growler tells him a deal is a deal and there’s no room for negotiation. He then raises his voice and I recognise a Scottish accent.

      ‘This is a big investment. You owe me – with interest, Adie.’

      The reply is sycophantic, slippery as syrup.

      ‘I won’t let you down, Duncan.’

      Bonnie’s hand has fallen from my grip. She raps softly on oak, then she pushes the door wide. I stare over her shoulder. Inside, the office is all white walls and polished wood. Adie’s standing behind his desk, his shoulders hunched. The other man is opposite, staring. He’s short but broad-shouldered, around sixty years old, in an expensive checked brown suit, pale red hair curled close to his head. His hands are in his pockets and, as he turns to us, his face hardens for a moment and then relaxes. He surveys Bonnie and beams.

      ‘Well, who do we have here?’

      Bonnie is all breath, gushing. ‘Demi rang. She and Kyle have some news. Adie, she wants to extend the honey—’

      Adie stiffens. ‘Not now, darling.’ His teeth come together. There’s no affection in the endearment. ‘I’m busy right now.’

      The red-haired man opens his arms wide, palms up, taking over, his expression expansive. He turns to us and smiles. His face is broad, craggy, and his teeth are even. I notice thick eyebrows, red wiry hair, ice blue eyes as he stares from Bonnie to me and back to Bonnie.

      ‘So, you’re Mrs Carrick, I presume?’

      She extends a hand. ‘Bonnie.’

      She’s done this many times before, the practised smile, the tinkling laugh. Adie’s reliable showpiece. I frown and feel protective again.

      The man chuckles, his accent strong. ‘Bonnie by name and bonnie of face.’ He holds her small hand in his large fist. ‘Charming. I’m Duncan Beddowes, by the way. I’m sure Adie’s mentioned me?’

      Bonnie nods, unsure whether it’s polite to say yes or be honest and say no.

      Beddowes raises his eyebrows towards Adie, who’s squirming for some reason.

      ‘You didn’t tell me you had such a lovely wife, Adie. You must be proud of such a treasure.’

      She shakes her long curls and Adie mumbles something about Mr Beddowes being a business partner. Beddowes is staring at her wrist.

      ‘May I?’ He lifts her sleeve and the bracelet gleams underneath. Bonnie stands poker stiff and the man says, ‘Oh, well now. Look at this. What a lovely piece. Solid gold.’

      ‘A present from my husband.’ Bonnie flushes but Adie has blanched, his face the colour of the walls.

      ‘How very generous of you, Adie. What a wrist full of symbols.’

      Adie’s about to say something.

      The