Spin Cycle Read Free Page A

in the synagogue burial society,” she piped up.
    “I’m trying to have a serious conversation here. Why won’t you listen?” Adam said, starting to get irritated.
    “I will listen.” She smiled a sexy smile. “But later. There’s something I want to do first.”
    With that she began unzipping his fly.
    “Christ almighty, Rache,” he gasped. “What if somebody sees?”
    “Shh,” she whispered as she moved her head down toward his lap. A moment later she was running her tongue over the top of his erection.
    Adam whimpered softly and slipped fractionally lower in his seat. Then almost at once she sensed him clenching his buttocks in panic.
    “But what if I get so carried away that I crash the car and you end up biting off my knob? Look . . . oh God that feels incredible. . . . Look Rache, just in case this all goes wrong and I end up hemorrhaging, for Chrissake remember to tell the ambulance men I have thin blood. You know how hard it is to stop my nosebleeds ’cause I have trouble clotting . . . fuck you’re good . . . I’ll need FFP, right? And possibly platelets. Have you got that? Fresh. Frozen. Plasma.”
    But Rachel wasn’t listening. She took virtually his entire penis in her mouth—just as the Audi entered the Rotherhithe Tunnel.

CHAPTER 2
    “No, Coral, listen to me.
Lis
ten. I know it seems unbearable now, but you have to calm down and believe this is just a temporary setback. All of you is beautiful and valuable . . . of course I mean it. Coral, this is me, Faye, your best friend. Would I lie?”
    Rachel dropped her shoulder bag on the floor next to the hall coat stand and shook her head. Not only was her mother up past midnight, she was yakking on the phone. She swore that one day the woman’s larynx would seize up. She walked toward the kitchen and the sound of Faye’s voice.
    She opened the door. Her mother, mobile phone between her shoulder and chin, was kneeling on the kitchen counter in her lilac candlewick housecoat and a pair of brand-new rubber gloves. A plastic bucket stood beside her. Although she had her back toward her daughter, Rachel could see quite clearly that her mother was cleaning the venetian blind above the sink. A few feet away Rachel’s father, Jack, was standing in his dressing gown stirring hot chocolate mix into mugs of boiling milk.
    “Dad,” she said, without taking her eyes off her mother, “do you mind telling me what on earth she’s up to at this time of night?”
    Jack gave his daughter a “you know your mother” shrug. “So how’d it go tonight?” he asked, giving Rachel a peck on the forehead.
    “Not bad,” she told him, taking a Rich Tea out of the biscuit tin and biting into it.
    “Sam OK?”
    “Good as gold, bless him.” Jack smiled. “Not a peep since he went to bed. You want some hot chocolate?”
    Rachel shook her head.
    At that moment her father stopped in midstir, clutched his chest and grimaced.
    Before Rachel had a chance to react to the clutching and grimacing, Jack let out an enormous belch. Hearing this, Faye immediately swung round. Covering up the mouthpiece, she took the phone off her ear and cocked her head toward her husband.
    “He had wheat tonight,” she said to Rachel. “Now he’s paying the price.” She uncovered the mouthpiece and said, “Look, Coral, I’ve got to go, Rachel’s back. I’ll speak to you in the morning. Meanwhile, cheer up and try to get some sleep. Bye. Love to Ivan.”
    “Three hours your mother’s been on that mobile,” Jack said as Faye stabbed the off button and maneuvered herself into a sitting position on the counter. “I tell you her head is so full of microwaves, I could use it as a hot water bottle.”
    Faye snorted. “Jack,” she said brusquely, “just be quiet and help me down.”
    He padded over to the sink, took the bucket of Flash from her and held out his hand.
    “That was Coral,” she said to Rachel once she was back on her feet. “Poor soul, her manicurist took one look