Double Blind Read Free Page A

days. But we’ll talk. I’ll text you when I’m free.”
    Accepting that as the best I’d get out of her in her current mood, I gave her a hug goodbye before hurrying to catch the tube back home. When I got off the train, my phone buzzed with three texts, all from my boyfriend, saying he was coming home for the night. He’d taken a late train from Bristol. Elated, I walked along Queensway, where ethnic restaurants were still busy with diners, and groups of locals and tourists strolled past the souvenir shops, enjoying a break in the rain. Above the brightly-lit buzz of commerce below, the silver moon hung low in the sky, garlanded with threads of ebony cloud. Perhaps there was a chance of clear weather tomorrow.
    It was still cold this evening though, so I turned the heat on in the flat before opening a bottle of cabernet, one of Josh’s favorites. When I heard the key turning in the lock, I hurried down the hallway to greet him, feeling a familiar tingle down my spine. Pulling the door open, I turned my face up for a kiss. He was eight inches taller than me, except when I wore heels. I pushed a lock of dark, glossy hair back from his face. “I missed you.”
    He stepped inside, dumped his briefcase and overnight bag on the floor, and gave me another long, deep kiss. “I missed you too. I always do,” he said.
    “I opened some wine. Do you want some?”
    “Aye, but first I need to get out of this suit and tie.” His Scottish accent grew a little stronger when he was tired. “And I may need some help with that.” Taking my hand in his, he led me to the bedroom. When he held me, I felt the stress of my recent aura sighting melt away. Focusing only on him, I relaxed, savoring the touch of his skin against mine.
    It was late when I went to the kitchen, where I poured two glasses of wine and carried them into the living room. Josh joined me, freshly showered and dressed in a white t-shirt and red tartan PJ pants. His mother gave him Stewart clan clothing for Christmas every year.
    “Nearly forgot,” he said, going out into the hallway. He came back with something wrapped in gift paper and tied with green ribbon. “I found a small bookshop tucked away in the Old City and spent a couple of hours rummaging around in there one evening. I thought you’d like this.”
    I untied the ribbon. The smell of old books wafted upwards, one of my favorite scents of all, a magical mix of paper, ink and dust. The cover of dark red leather had faded to brown in parts, and the title was tooled in gold across the front.
A Gathering of Flowers
. The pages were of thick creamy paper. Each one held a short description of a plant, accompanied by an illustration drawn in black ink and finished with fine washes of color. Every page was a small work of art.
    “It’s beautiful,” I said. “Just what I need to inspire me for Dad’s book.” I was working on illustrating a gardening book that my father had written. The joint project was an attempt to put our relationship back on an even keel, and it gave us something to talk about that didn’t concern auras or my career.
    Josh smiled before his eyes shifted away from my face for a second. Then he squeezed my hand and kept hold of it. “It’s good that you’re working on your photography and illustrating,” he said. “But I think you should come back to work now. We just signed a new client. We need you.”
    He hadn’t agreed with my decision to take six months off work. Business had slumped, it was true, but Josh’s view was that I would have been able to contribute to the company’s faster recovery had I stayed. At the time, a temporary leave of absence had seemed like a good idea. I’d almost died in the office car park. Avoiding the office and the memories it held made sense to me then. Now I wasn’t so sure. Even though my attacker was safely behind bars, I sometimes felt vulnerable and nervous, so what was the point of distancing myself from my work, the one thing that