The Unconventional Angel Read Free Page B

You ‘re still in with a chance if you play your cards right.’
    ‘Bea, you are terrible! I do have some morals. Anyway, Happy Boxing Day you old tart. How was yesterday?’
    ‘Just the usual. Mum, Dad and the sisters. Auntie Flo, Uncle Pete. Oh, and Tom and Vera came round from next door with number one son, Josh, for the evening.’
    ‘And did you?’
    ‘Just a blow job, in the utility room.’
    ‘You are unbelievable.’
    ‘He’s twenty-four now. He’ll be too old for me soon.’
    ‘I wish I had your gall.’
    ‘It’s short-lived gratification, Evie, and it’s not big or clever. Just a complete and utter turn-on.’
    ‘Don’t ever change, Beatrice Stewart.’
    ‘So, back to Yves the tramp. I can’t believe I’m even having this conversation. Why are you meeting him later?’
    ‘I don’t actually know.’
    ‘What?’
    ‘Well, there’s something about him. He is really interesting. I feel drawn to him.’
    ‘Come on down! Meet Beatrice Stewart, shagger of toy boys and her friend Evie Harris with her fetish for tramps.’
    Evie laughed out loud. ‘Let me just go with it.’
    ‘He might be after your money.’
    ‘What bloody money? Nah, he knows I’m skint.’
    ‘OK. Well, be careful and make sure you call me later and give me the scoop.’
    ‘I will. What are you doing later anyway?’
    ‘Hopefully, Josh. His mum and dad are going out and I said I’d pop round to pull his cracker later.’
    ‘You are insatiable, girl.’
    ‘I know! Now, bugger off and go and see old Christmas Yves, you weird tart.’
    ‘He’s not old.’
    ‘You said he was a tramp?’
    ‘Look at you labelling. It’s hard to tell exactly how old he is, as he has a bushy beard and a few laughter lines, but he’s only around thirty, I reckon.’
    ‘Get in there then, girl. Who knows? This could be the man of your dreams.’
    ‘You make my heart smile, Bea. You really do.’
    ‘Good. Enjoy yourself whatever you do and I cannot wait to hear all about it.’

Chapter Four
Peace
    It was eerily quiet on the tube on Boxing Day and Evie enjoyed the tranquility. One benefit of being out of work, she thought, was that she could step out of the rat race, even if just for a short while.
    Yves was wearing a light grey suit and his beard looked slightly shorter than she remembered. He was waiting at the bottom of the steps to the spectacular St Paul’s Cathedral. Evie had read about the cathedral on her iPhone on the way here. She could recite off pat the fact that it sits at the top of Ludgate Hill, the highest point in the City of London, is dedicated to Paul the Apostle and dates back to the original church on this site, founded in AD something or other. The present church had been designed by Sir Christopher Wren. Phew!
    Despite the area around the cathedral being well lit, Yves shone a torch towards her so Evie’s path was even clearer. Today, his brown hair was tied back in a short ponytail. She hated to admit it but he did look quite handsome in a hippyish sort of way.
    ‘Hello Evie with an E, how are you?’
    ‘My cold has gone! I feel so much better. Haven’t sneezed even once today.’
    ‘I’m glad to hear it.’
    ‘What was that ointment you put under my nose? Is it a wonder cure?’
    ‘Ointment? Sorry, I don’t understand. I had some hand cream on that they had put in the toilets yesterday, maybe it was that you smelled?’
    ‘Oh, maybe.’ Bea was right, she was imagining things. Her cold had gone, and for this she was pleased – whatever the reason.
    ‘These are for you.’ She handed Yves a carrier bag.
    ‘Trainers? Wow. That’s really kind. Thank you – and they’re the right size.’
    ‘Well, I thought you looked about the same build as Darren, and he won’t miss them. He’s got hundreds of pairs.’
    ‘I really appreciate that, Evie. Right, I’m glad you are early. Evensong is about to start and I want you to experience it.’
    Evie wasn’t particularly religious; she had gone to a Church of