As Weekends Go (Choc Lit) Read Free Page B

in it all.
    ‘Hawksley Manor?’ said Greg, in a tone that suggested he couldn’t see Abi fitting in. ‘Top golf course there, evidently.’ Greg always judged a place by its fairways. ‘When exactly did you say you’d be going?’
    ‘Friday morning. By train, if there are still tickets available. Otherwise, I’ll take my car.’
    ‘And back Monday?’
    ‘Yes. Why? Is that a problem?’
    Rebecca could see Abi biting back her frustration with him as he contemplated the idea over a chocolate Hobnob. She’d already told him all this the first time around.
    Greg stared at Rebecca, then at Abi. ‘S’pose not,’ he finally answered.
    Rebecca’s look of shock mirrored Abi’s. Greg even offered to source and collect their train tickets and, depending on the timetable, drop her and Abi at the station on Friday morning before driving down to the coast.
    By the time Rebecca’s brain had absorbed all this, Abi and Greg had moved on to discussing Nick’s trip to Spain. Abi was moaning about Nick wanting to take her long-cherished digital camera with him.
    ‘I mean,
why
?’ she said to Greg, draining the dregs of the rosé. ‘He’ll be so pissed half the time, he won’t be able to focus properly.’
    ‘If he’s close enough to the podium, he will.’
    ‘Oh, very funny. If Nick even thinks about going to a strip club, I’ll swing for him.’
    ‘Now, now,’ said Greg, rubbing his hands together. ‘If I’d known he wanted a camera, I could have got him a healthy discount on a nice new one. Perks of the trade, Abigail. Might have cost him three months’ wages, mind— ’
    ‘He’s an electrician, Greg, not a leaflet dropper.’
    ‘And she calls
me
moody!’
    ‘I’m not moody. It just irritates me when you imply that Nick earns a pittance when he doesn’t,’ said Abi. ‘You do it all the time!’
    ‘
Another drink
?’ Rebecca dived in so quickly it came out as a half-screech. She wiped her clammy hands down the front of her cut-offs. Greg just couldn’t help himself, could he? And Abi wasn’t entirely blameless; the two of them were forever point scoring. Rebecca refused to get caught in the crossfire.
    ‘Not for me, thanks, Bex,’ said Abi, throwing Greg a sideways pout. ‘I’d better order my cab. I want to phone Nick while he’s still compos mentis. Re York, my boss has said he’ll ring through the booking changes for us. I’ll just need confirmation about the train tickets.’
    ‘Trust me. I’ll sort it.’ Greg gave a hefty sigh, eased his mobile phone out of his jeans pocket, and wandered into the conservatory, furiously texting as he went, dashing any hope Rebecca had of him offering Abi a lift home as he’d come in a bit earlier than expected. Abi’s apartment, as she liked to call it, was only ten minutes away.
    After seeing Abi into her cab, Rebecca returned to the kitchen. Slim chance of striking up any conversation with Greg now as she could hear him tapping away on his laptop.
    Oh, well …
    She called out to him that she was off to bed, receiving barely a grunt of acknowledgment from him in return.
    She didn’t hear him follow her upstairs, but at four a.m. she awoke to the sound of him snoring beside her.
    She crept out of bed, as she did most nights, yet it wasn’t her customary worrying about her marriage that had set her mind racing this time, but Greg’s nonchalance about her going to York with Abi.
    It wasn’t his usual way of going on. This impending conference of his must have addled his brain. Anyone would think the Queen was invited.

Chapter Three
    Come Friday morning, despite her doubts and sporadic butterflies, Rebecca felt strangely calm. She’d even been blessed with six hours sleep on the muggiest night of the year thus far.
    It was Greg who’d been restless, thrusting his presentation notes under her nose as she’d handed him his second mug of tea at six thirty, demanding her opinion, which was odd because speaking to a roomful of people usually came as