Perfect Timing Read Free

is it, love?’ asked the taxi driver over his shoulder when only Poppy was left in the car.
    Poppy looked at her watch for the fiftieth time. Quarter to three. She took a deep breath.
    â€˜Delgado’s, Milton Street. Opposite the university. Hurry, please.’
    ***
    Delgado’s was a trendy post-nightclub hangout popular with students and diehard clubbers alike. Poppy, who had visited it a few times in the past, knew its atmosphere to be far more of a draw than the food.
    But with its white painted exterior and glossy dark blue shutters it certainly looked the part. On a night like tonight, Poppy knew it would be even busier than usual, packed with people showing off their tans, making the most of the perfect weather while it lasted and pretending they weren’t in Bristol but in the south of France.
    As her taxi drew up outside Poppy wondered just how stupid she would feel if she went inside and he wasn’t there. She looked again at her watch. One minute to three.
    Then she saw him, sitting alone at one of the sought-after tables in the window. He was lounging back on his chair idly stirring sugar into an espresso and smoking a cigarette.
    Poppy’s pulse began to race. Twelve hours from now she was due to walk down the aisle of St Mary’s church on her father’s arm. Twelve and a bit hours from now she would become Poppy McBride, wife of Robert and mother—in due course—to three, maybe four little McBrides. It was all planned, right down to the middle names and the color of the wallpaper in the nursery. Rob was a great one for thinking ahead.
    â€˜Here, love?’ The taxi driver was showing signs of restlessness. When Poppy still didn’t move he lit up a cigar and exhaled heavily, making smoke ricochet off the windscreen and into the back of the cab. This usually did the trick.
    Poppy didn’t even notice. She saw Tom look at his own watch then gaze out of the window. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that if she stepped out of the taxi now her life would be changed drastically and forever.
    The taxi driver shifted round in his seat to look at her. ‘Don’t tell me you’re dozing off back there.’
    Hardly. Poppy, awash with adrenaline, wondered if she would ever sleep again. Her fingers crept towards the door handle.
    â€˜Look, love,’ began the driver, ‘we can’t—’
    â€˜Edgerton Close.’ Poppy blurted the words out, clenching her fists at her side and willing herself not to leap out of the cab. ‘Please.’
    â€˜You mean back to Henbury?’ The driver stared at her in disbelief. ‘Are you sure about this?’
    â€˜No, but do it anyway.’ She turned her face away from Delgado’s and held her breath until the taxi reached the far end of Milton Street. It was no good; she couldn’t go through with it.
    The bad news was, she didn’t think she could go through with the wedding either.
    Since sleep was out of the question Poppy didn’t even bother climbing into bed. Instead, making herself cup after cup of tea and pacing the moonlit back garden as she drank them, she went over in her mind what had happened so far. And, nerve-rackingly, what had to be done next.
    By six o’clock, the sun was blazing down out of a flawless duck-egg blue sky and upstairs Poppy heard her father begin to stir. She showered, pulled a comb ruthlessly through her tangled hair, cleaned her teeth, and threw on a white tee-shirt and jeans. Then she tapped on his bedroom door.
    â€˜Dad? I’ve made you a cup of tea.’
    Since the death of Laura Dunbar ten years ago there had been no other woman in her father’s life. Poppy had missed her mother desperately following the nightmarish accident when an out-of-control lorry had careered down Henbury Hill smashing into Laura and killing her outright. Her mother had been fun-loving, vivacious, and openly affectionate. She had also doted on Poppy, her