That'll Be the Day (2007) Read Free

of the market hall, and some instinct warned her he was approaching.
    She watched him walk towards her, surreptitiously admiring his long-legged stride. Terry always wore black, generally tee-shirt and jeans, his smooth dark hair combed high at each side of his brow to form the required fashionable quiff. This morning he also had on his biker’s jacket. He looked fit and muscular and her mouth watered at sight of him.
    Lynda Hemley was a lively, warm-hearted, sexy young woman who liked a good time and plenty of fun in her life. She viewed love as a delightful game. Delicious fun and not to be taken too seriously. She really rather enjoyed the excitement of the chase, the enticing moments of seduction. It made her come alive to feel emotion pulsing through her blood like electricity, as if every caress proved how beloved she was, how cherished. Of course, she realised it was all flim-flam, nothing but shallow pleasure and didn’t mind in the least.
    She saw nothing wrong in making the most of the attributes with which nature had endowed her: a slender figure going in and out in all the right places, glossy auburn curls that fell in rich waves to her shoulders, and a face that was a near perfect oval with high cheekbones, small pert nose and round strong chin. Admittedly her mouth might be a bit smaller than she would have liked, but she saw its perpetual pout as sexy rather than sulky. Lynda laid no claims to being a ravishing beauty but knew herself to be sufficiently attractive for men falling in love with her to be considered a natural occurrence. Terry Hall was one such in thrall to her charms, but then she’d been aware for some time that he was smitten.  
     
    She half turned away, pretending not to notice as he approached, glad suddenly that she’d opted to wear a new pink blouse with a Peter Pan collar this morning, and a swirling navy blue cotton circular skirt with white polka dots. She guessed that he intended to pester her for another date and found great difficulty in suppressing a giggle when she was proved to be right.
    ‘Hiya Lynda.’
    ‘Hiya Terry.’
    ‘What you doing this evening?’
    Terry could never be accused of subtlety. Nor did he ever have much in the way of small talk. With numerous false starts and offhand shrugs, he finally managed to convey that he wanted her to go to a dance with him at the Ritz. Lynda fluttered her lashes, automatically turning on the charm even as she declined the invitation.
    She curled her mouth into a slow sexy smile for the benefit of this, her latest conquest, hazel eyes sparkling with instinctive seductive appeal. ‘Terry love, I think it would be best if you picked someone your own age. I don’t go in for cradle-snatching.’
    A painful flush spread from his neck up over his jaw and Lynda felt a momentary burst of pity for him, yet she was surely right to refuse? He was only nineteen, nearly six years younger than herself.
    Six years ! She gave a silent inner groan. How she hated to remind herself of her own great age. At twenty-five, okay nearly twenty-six, as her mother kept constantly reminding her, she should be married and with children of her own. Secretly, Lynda wished that she was but somehow Mr Right had so far refused to put in an appearance. A good man, she’d discovered, was hard to find.
    Once, when she was very young, no more than seventeen or eighteen she’d fallen passionately in love with a man almost ten years older than herself. Lynda had imagined he would be more reliable than her usual here-today-gone-tomorrow boy friends and had allowed herself to believe his protestations of undying love. Then quite out of the blue he’d announced that he couldn’t see her any more as he was getting married the following month.
    ‘But I thought you loved me ,’ she’d cried, like some sort of love-sick fool.
    ‘Don’t be silly, sweetheart, you know that we agreed from the beginning that what we had together was fun and nothing more.”
    For the