Honeycote Read Free Page B

back-thumping congratulations and glee. She was beginning to realize what it meant to have her own identity, and that it was up to her to make what she would of her life.
    ‘What about your dad? Won’t he be upset?’
    Mandy shook her head, a rueful smile playing on her lips. ‘He’ll be too busy flogging bathrooms to notice, I expect. Anyway, they’ve never really liked each other, my parents.’
    Sophie was inwardly appalled. Only a minute ago, she’d have given anything to be as thin as Mandy. But not now. That was too high a price, to have parents that thought so little of each other. Her own parents adored each other – you only had to look at them. She was excited at the prospect of breaking up for the Christmas holidays the next day, and spending nearly four long weeks at home. She and her younger sister Georgina were day-girls, but their home was nearly twenty miles away and the travelling was a drag. She sometimes wished they boarded, but she knew her parents wouldn’t be able to find the extra money for the fees. She suspected they were struggling as it was, and if it hadn’t been for Georgina’s hefty sports scholarship they might have found themselves at the local comprehensive.
    While Robbie serenaded them, the two girls sat in companionable silence for a moment reflecting on their respective predicaments. Sophie let her mind wander ahead to the next Saturday night. Her brother Patrick was organizing a charity dance – he was on the committee for some reason. And so was Ned, so he was sure to be there. Sophie toyed with asking Mandy for some advice about Ned – she was bound to be an expert on blokes and how to handle them – but decided it would be selfish, so she offered her another Malteser instead. Chocolate, in her experience, was very comforting.
    *
    Kay Oakley slipped into the car and out of her black suede court shoes. Three-inch heels were no good for driving, but they’d been a necessity today. While it usually suited her to accentuate her diminutive frame, she liked to look people in the eye when she was doing a deal. That way they got the full benefit of her mesmerizing, some said almost alien, green eyes. Before she drove off she checked her hair in the vanity mirror – she’d only just had it done and she wasn’t sure how the new style would hold up to the rigours of theworking day. But her hairdresser was an artist – it was razored and sliced to perfection, and highlighted to suit, giving her an artfully tousled style that belied the amount of time it took to perfect each morning. She dusted herself with some bronzing powder to take away the pallor induced by a day under artificial lighting, slicked on some lipstick and spritzed a squirt of Allure on to each wrist and down her cleavage.
    She pulled out of her parking space, then tutted with annoyance as she saw the long line of cars edging painfully slowly towards the exit. She should have left the Exhibition Centre earlier; but the best business was often done at the end of the day, when people were tired and capitulated more easily. She’d negotiated an excellent price on a range of rustic kitchenware: the garden centre had already opened an extensive delicatessen, so this seemed a logical diversification to Kay. Whether it would to her husband Lawrence was another matter; but at least he’d be mollified by the knock-down price she’d got.
    The queue edged forward another three feet. Kay’s patience left her. She pulled sharply out of the line and accelerated to the front, where the next escapee was about to insert his ticket into the machine that activated the exit barrier. Kay could feel forty pairs of angry eyes boring into her back as she lowered the electric passenger window and adopted a suitably distressed expression. She indicated the mobile telephone on the seat next to her.
    ‘I’m awfully sorry. I’ve had a phone call… It’s an emergency. Would you mind?’
    Kay never tempted fate by lying. She was merely