BooksBarbecue
Back The Lucky Eight Save as PDF
Chapters (64)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. Prologue
  4. Five Years Later
  5. One
  6. Two
  7. Three
  8. Four
  9. Five
  10. Six
  11. Seven
  12. Eight
  13. Nine
  14. Ten
  15. Eleven
  16. Twelve
  17. Thirteen
  18. Fourteen
  19. Fifteen
  20. Sixteen
  21. Seventeen
  22. Eighteen
  23. Nineteen
  24. Twenty
  25. Twenty-one
  26. Twenty-two
  27. Twenty-three
  28. Twenty-four
  29. Twenty-five
  30. Twenty-six
  31. Twenty-seven
  32. Twenty-eight
  33. Twenty-nine
  34. Thirty
  35. Thirty-one
  36. Thirty-two
  37. Thirty-three
  38. Thirty-four
  39. Thirty-five
  40. Thirty-six
  41. Thirty-seven
  42. Thirty-eight
  43. Thirty-nine
  44. Forty
  45. Forty-one
  46. Forty-two
  47. Forty-three
  48. Forty-four
  49. Forty-five
  50. Forty-six
  51. Forty-seven
  52. Forty-eight
  53. Forty-nine
  54. Fifty
  55. Fifty-one
  56. Fifty-two
  57. Fifty-three
  58. Fifty-four
  59. Fifty-five
  60. Epilogue
  61. Acknowledgements
  62. Canelo Crime
  63. About the Author
  64. Also by Sheila Bugler

She was a bloody fool, coming all the way to London without checking first that Tara would actually be able to see her. She pressed the buzzer a few more times, pointlessly because she knew by now that Tara wasn’t at home, and was about to give up and walk back to the train station when an elderly woman came out of the building.

‘Can I help you, dear?’

She was tiny, like a fragile bird, wearing a wide-brimmed white hat, a face of make-up and a vibrant silk shift dress that shimmered when she moved.

‘I’m trying to get in touch with a friend of mine,’ Clodagh said. ‘She lives in this building.’

The woman peered at Clodagh for several seconds, before smiling.

‘I knew I recognised you,’ she said. ‘You’re Vivienne Kinsella’s sister. I’ve read all about you. I knew Vivienne, you see. I was a costume designer until I retired three years ago. I worked with Vivienne when she was in Streetcar at the National.’ The woman frowned. ‘Dear me, how long ago was that now? Must be seven years.’

‘Eight,’ Clodagh said, swallowing the lump that had appeared at the back of her throat. Playing Blanche DuBois had been the high point of Vivienne’s career. Alongside the inevitable comparisons with Vivien Leigh, the performance had been widely praised by critics and the public. Clodagh had seen the play four times and been moved to tears at every performance.

‘Such a tragedy.’ The woman sighed. ‘You look a lot like her, don’t you? I’m sure you’re sick of people telling you that. Anyway, don’t let me stop you. I assume you know where you’re going?’

She stepped back, holding the door open so Clodagh could pass into the building.

‘Thank you,’ Clodagh said.

‘My pleasure.’ The woman put her hand on Clodagh’s arm. ‘I remember Vivienne telling me all about you. She was very proud of you – her sister, the hot shot City lawyer. You must miss her terribly.’

‘I do.’

The woman squeezed Clodagh’s arm before letting it go.

‘I’m on my way to meet my girlfriends. I can’t wait to tell them I’ve just been talking to Vivienne’s sister. I’m sure they won’t believe me when I tell them you’re even prettier than she was.’

With that she was gone, leaving Clodagh alone in the vast entrance lobby. The walls on either side were made up entirely of mirrored glass that reflected back on each other. The overall effect was disconcerting. Multiple images of Clodagh followed her as she made her way across the tiled floor to the row of lifts. It was a relief, to step inside one of the lifts and escape herself.