The Little One [Quick Read 2012] by Lynda La Plante Page B

bubbly conversation, pointing out the landmarks in the village. First the church and the vicarage, then the neat little
cottages and some elegant weekend retreats for people from London, finally the post office and the grocer’s shop.
    When they stopped in the small railway station car park, she showed Barbara where she hid the keys of the Land Rover, beneath the driver’s seat.
    They were in perfect time for the train and sat opposite each other in window seats. Margaret said she would take a taxi from Waterloo to her solicitor in Knightsbridge. Barbara said she would
head over to Alan and Kevin’s house. She had still not made contact, as her mobile phone battery was now flat.
    As they arrived, Barbara was a little embarrassed to admit that she had only a few pound coins. Margaret gave her two £20 and three £5 notes.
    ‘That’s too much.’
    ‘Nonsense. You will need to buy a few things.’
    Margaret put her briefcase down and cupped Barbara’s face in her hands. She kissed her on the lips.
    ‘Goodbye, Barbara. I love you.’
    Barbara was embarrassed again, but replied haltingly, ‘Er, I love you too, Margaret.’
    Sitting back in a taxi, Barbara felt very confused. Her headache was really hammering. She lowered the window and took a few deep breaths. She began to wonder if she could
still face speaking to Mike Phillips, the editor, about all this. It was so crazy, how would he react?
    As she paid the taxi fare, Barbara hoped that someone would be at home, because she didn’t have her spare key. She rang the doorbell and waited. Thankfully, Kevin was in.
    He was very different in appearance from Alan. He was squat, with thick dark hair worn in a crew cut. His broad shoulders looked even broader in the thick plaid dressing gown he was now wearing.
He didn’t look very welcoming. In fact, he asked straight away when she would be leaving, reminding her that he needed to use the box room.
    Barbara promised him that she was going to look at some places to rent, but it didn’t seem to make him any friendlier. He told her to help herself to coffee, then went back upstairs.
    Barbara took a cup of tepid coffee up to the box room to recharge her mobile. Sitting on the bed, she felt like crying.
    She opened her laptop to check her emails. There weren’t any. She took out of her handbag the scrawled notes she had made while at the manor house and began to copy them into a document,
recalling the strange way Margaret had behaved.
    The telephone rang and she heard someone hurrying to answer it. Then, after a moment, Kevin knocked on her door.
    ‘There’s a Mr Sullivan on the line for you. Can you take it downstairs? He wouldn’t tell me what he wanted.’
    Barbara closed her laptop, went to the kitchen and picked up the receiver.
    ‘Hello?’
    ‘Am I speaking to Miss Barbara Hardy?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘My name is Edward Sullivan. I am Margaret Reynolds’s solicitor.’
    Barbara could hardly take in what he had said. In a very abrupt tone of voice, he informed her he needed to see her as soon as possible. She would have to sign various important documents. When
Barbara asked what these were, he replied that he did not wish to discuss it over the telephone.
    As she’d nothing better to do, she agreed to meet him at his Knightsbridge office. They made an appointment for three fifteen.
    Barbara peeked into the kitchen as she was leaving.
    ‘I’m off now. I’ll be back later if that’s all right?’
    Kevin was scrambling some eggs.
    ‘Yeah, it’s fine. Alan should be home.’
    He hesitated, then said, ‘By the way, that job you offered me. My agent hasn’t got any booking.’
    Barbara tried to think quickly, which was hard with her hangover. Finally, she said, ‘Well, my editor still has to finalize stuff. I think we’re supposed to have a meeting this
afternoon.’
    She was just closing the door when he asked, ‘It isn’t connected to Margaret Reynolds, is it?’
    Barbara pretended not to hear him and