Guilty Feet Read Free Page A

something closer to silvery grey.
    ‘Joanna,’ he said, lowering his voice so his mother couldn’t hear him. There were only two other people in at the moment, and sound carried well over chrome and Formica.
    ‘Yes, Marco,’ I whispered back, moving closer to him across the table to join in the conspiracy game.
    ‘I have to go away soon for a while, and I wondered if you would like to fill in for me here.’
    I was completely taken aback. ‘It’s good of you, Marco, but I don’t want to tread on anyone’s toes.’ I knew that he already had people who helped out in the café when he took time off.
    ‘It’s OK,’ he said. ‘I’ve already checked and no one’s available. And it’s you that would be doing me a favour.’
    ‘But I might not be available till the end of the month.’ I was still hanging on to my hope of Pisus surviving that long.
    ‘I understand and it doesn’t matter. I can go any time. I just need someone who’s, well...flexible. I’ll only be away a week, but I’d be happy to keep you on till you found something else.’
    I could do flexible, I supposed as I spooned chocolate-covered froth off my coffee. And I couldn’t afford to have gaps between jobs. I glanced up at Marco and he looked so anxious that I began to wonder what this was really about. Why was he whispering? What didn’t he want Giovanna to know about?
    ‘OK,’ I said, ‘you’ve got a deal.’ I looked over at his mother, who was humming something melancholy now, not her usual style at all. ‘I take it you don’t want me to mention anything yet to Giovanna?’
    He looked a bit shifty, then he grinned. ‘Like-a Mamma says,’ he said, doing the accent, ‘you are clever as well as pretty Joanna. But don’t worry, she’s going to love the idea.’
     
     
     
     
    Chapter Two
     
    Dan Baxter groaned aloud when he heard the knock at his door. He glanced at his wristwatch and was surprised to find it was seven-thirty. He’d been working since six that morning and had only stopped twice for coffee and once for a corned beef sandwich. Suddenly he was aware of how hungry and thirsty he was.
    He frowned as he looked back at the computer screen and considered ignoring the knock. It was more or less time to wind things up, but he’d sooner work through the night than answer the door to who he guessed was out there. The knock sounded again, more forcefully now, and he knew he would have to answer it. If it really was who he thought it would be he was pretty certain she wouldn’t give up.
    It was who he’d thought it would be. Libby, standing there with a large covered tray. She’d been playing Mother quite a lot since he started the book, but if this was food she’d brought with her then she was stepping the role up a pace.
    She looked as if she’d just come out of the shower, all pink and shiny and make-up-free. The ends of her curly shoulder-length hair were damp, and at first glance she looked almost attractive. She didn’t usually wear it loose, and just for a moment he was reminded of Jo, whose hair was curly and shoulder-length, but just a different colour.
    Libby was wearing a pale turquoise fleece zipped up to the neck and, from what he could see beneath the tray, something dark that covered the whole of her legs. She didn’t look as if she’d come to try and seduce him, he thought, and then immediately felt guilty for entertaining this idea again. Nothing she’d done so far had given him cause to suppose she was trying to be anything but a friend. It was just an odd feeling he got now and then.
    She beamed at him now and, sliding one hand beneath the tray to support it, she used the other to lift the blue and white tea towel a little at the corner. The aroma of something delicious wafted temptingly up.
    ‘Lemon chicken,’ she trilled, nudging past him into the hallway.
    She was already laying two places at the kitchen table by the time he caught up with her, and this time he groaned inwardly. Hungry and