memory of her reaction. Laura had been so right; maybe he didnât know women as well as he thought he did. Because Erica had not been happy. Not only that, sheâd been decidedly jealous!
Being on the end of jealousy was something which brought out the worst in Ryan. When Erica started accusing him of also having fancied Laura and that this was just a ploy to sleep with her, Ryan had told her in no uncertain terms that if that was what she thought then it was time they went their separate ways. After which he had hung up.
The fact that Erica subsequently sent him several grovellingâthen abusiveâtext messages over the next hour had only confirmed his opinion that heâd done the right thing in breaking up with her. But the episode had bothered him all the same. Heâd turned his phone off in the end, but he suspected that more messages would be there if and when he turned it back on again. Though what she had left to say he had no idea.Heâd already been called every derogatory name in the dictionary from a filthy louse to a âsomethingâ libertine.
He hadnât been quite sure what a libertine was, so heâd looked it up and discovered that a libertine was a licentious and lascivious man who did as he pleasedâwhich he thought was a bit harsh, though not entirely inaccurate. He did do as he pleased in the main. And it pleased him not to continue a relationship with a female who was hypocritical as well as foul-mouthed. It also pleased him to pretend to be Lauraâs Mr Right this weekend and make an old ladyâs last days happy.
The clock on the dash showed it was now twelve-fifty-three.
Time to arrive.
The house at the address Laura had given him came as a surprise. Not because it was grand, or largeâit had possibly only three bedrooms. Federation cottages in good condition, however, were still worth a mint, especially when positioned high on a hill overlooking Manly Beach. He wondered if she owned it or was just renting.
It seemed an odd choice for a rental, he decided as he climbed out from behind the wheel and made his way through the front gate and up the flagged front path. The garden on either side was well tended, he noted, and the green paintwork around the front windows looked freshly done.
Not a rental, he concluded by the time he stepped up onto the ivy-covered front patio and rang the polished brass doorbell. Laura owned this lovely little house. He was sure of it.
Ryan was about to ring the bell again when the front door was swept open and Laura stood there, looking a darned sight better than she usually did. Gone was the funereal black suit; in its place were nicely fitted dark-blue jeans, black ankle-boots and a crisp white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a turned-up collar. Her hair was swept back up into a ponytail and sheâd put on some pink lipstick. All in all she looked five years younger than she had yesterday, and a good deal more fanciable.
Not that he fancied her. Not really; Erica was quite wrong about that. He would never have put himself in this positionwith a woman he seriously fancied. He was not that much of a fool.
âYouâre early,â she said, almost accusingly.
Some things, Ryan realised, could not be changed as easily as appearances. She should have been grateful, not irritated. He always liked it when people were on time.
Except at three on a Friday afternoonâ¦
Now why did he have to think of that?
Ryan shrugged in an effort to rid himself of the annoying thought that something was eluding him here. âOnly five minutes. Youâre looking good,â he complimented her.
âThank you. So do you,â she returned, if a little grudgingly.
âWe aim to please,â he said with a smile.
She didnât smile back, though something flickered in her eyes. He wasnât sure whatâmore irritation, probably. Man, but he had his work cut out for him this weekend. It wasnât going to be
Being on the end of jealousy was something which brought out the worst in Ryan. When Erica started accusing him of also having fancied Laura and that this was just a ploy to sleep with her, Ryan had told her in no uncertain terms that if that was what she thought then it was time they went their separate ways. After which he had hung up.
The fact that Erica subsequently sent him several grovellingâthen abusiveâtext messages over the next hour had only confirmed his opinion that heâd done the right thing in breaking up with her. But the episode had bothered him all the same. Heâd turned his phone off in the end, but he suspected that more messages would be there if and when he turned it back on again. Though what she had left to say he had no idea.Heâd already been called every derogatory name in the dictionary from a filthy louse to a âsomethingâ libertine.
He hadnât been quite sure what a libertine was, so heâd looked it up and discovered that a libertine was a licentious and lascivious man who did as he pleasedâwhich he thought was a bit harsh, though not entirely inaccurate. He did do as he pleased in the main. And it pleased him not to continue a relationship with a female who was hypocritical as well as foul-mouthed. It also pleased him to pretend to be Lauraâs Mr Right this weekend and make an old ladyâs last days happy.
The clock on the dash showed it was now twelve-fifty-three.
Time to arrive.
The house at the address Laura had given him came as a surprise. Not because it was grand, or largeâit had possibly only three bedrooms. Federation cottages in good condition, however, were still worth a mint, especially when positioned high on a hill overlooking Manly Beach. He wondered if she owned it or was just renting.
It seemed an odd choice for a rental, he decided as he climbed out from behind the wheel and made his way through the front gate and up the flagged front path. The garden on either side was well tended, he noted, and the green paintwork around the front windows looked freshly done.
Not a rental, he concluded by the time he stepped up onto the ivy-covered front patio and rang the polished brass doorbell. Laura owned this lovely little house. He was sure of it.
Ryan was about to ring the bell again when the front door was swept open and Laura stood there, looking a darned sight better than she usually did. Gone was the funereal black suit; in its place were nicely fitted dark-blue jeans, black ankle-boots and a crisp white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a turned-up collar. Her hair was swept back up into a ponytail and sheâd put on some pink lipstick. All in all she looked five years younger than she had yesterday, and a good deal more fanciable.
Not that he fancied her. Not really; Erica was quite wrong about that. He would never have put himself in this positionwith a woman he seriously fancied. He was not that much of a fool.
âYouâre early,â she said, almost accusingly.
Some things, Ryan realised, could not be changed as easily as appearances. She should have been grateful, not irritated. He always liked it when people were on time.
Except at three on a Friday afternoonâ¦
Now why did he have to think of that?
Ryan shrugged in an effort to rid himself of the annoying thought that something was eluding him here. âOnly five minutes. Youâre looking good,â he complimented her.
âThank you. So do you,â she returned, if a little grudgingly.
âWe aim to please,â he said with a smile.
She didnât smile back, though something flickered in her eyes. He wasnât sure whatâmore irritation, probably. Man, but he had his work cut out for him this weekend. It wasnât going to be
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