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Back The Widow Save as PDF
Chapters (92)
  1. Cover
  2. Dedication
  3. PART I
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. PART II
  15. 11
  16. 12
  17. 13
  18. 14
  19. 15
  20. 16
  21. 17
  22. 18
  23. 19
  24. 20
  25. 21
  26. 22
  27. 23
  28. 24
  29. 25
  30. 26
  31. 27
  32. 28
  33. 29
  34. 30
  35. 31
  36. 32
  37. 33
  38. 34
  39. 35
  40. 36
  41. 37
  42. 38
  43. 39
  44. 40
  45. 41
  46. 42
  47. 43
  48. 44
  49. 45
  50. 46
  51. 47
  52. 48
  53. 49
  54. 50
  55. 51
  56. 52
  57. 53
  58. 54
  59. 55
  60. 56
  61. 57
  62. 58
  63. 59
  64. 60
  65. 61
  66. 62
  67. 63
  68. 64
  69. 65
  70. 66
  71. 67
  72. 68
  73. 69
  74. 70
  75. 71
  76. 72
  77. 73
  78. 74
  79. 75
  80. 76
  81. 77
  82. 78
  83. 79
  84. 80
  85. 81
  86. 82
  87. 83
  88. ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
  89. MORE FROM VALERIE KEOGH
  90. ABOUT THE AUTHOR
  91. The Murder List
  92. About Boldwood Books

The interior of the shop was large and lavishly decorated with gold trimmings. The only assistant, a short, attractive woman who moved about on towering stilettos as if floating, was busy with a customer who was holding up a dress in two different shades as if trying to decide which to purchase.

Conscious the suit she was wearing had seen better days, Allison resisted the temptation to hug the large satchel she carried to her chest like a shield. Instead, overcompensating, she swung it in what she hoped was nonchalance, praying it didn’t look as odd as she feared.

When neither the assistant nor the other customer as much as glanced in her direction, she relaxed and looked around. Dresses were hanging on a rail on the far side of the shop. As she crossed, her footsteps on the polished wooden floor seeming over-loud, she scanned the collection, hoping the dress in the window wasn’t the only one.

No, there it was! She reached out to touch it, fingers skimming over the fabric. The colours were more vibrant up close, the material soft and light. She held the skirt of the dress out, picturing herself in it, the fabric swishing sound her legs. With a sigh, she let it drop. She didn’t need such a dress, but it didn’t stop her searching for the price tag. Perhaps if it weren’t too expensive…

But it was. Ludicrously expensive, in fact. The assistant was still busy; Allison could simply leave and put this nonsense behind her. Her fingers, however, had other ideas and reached out to touch the dress again. Then, suddenly, she had the hanger off the rail, and she was crossing the shop floor with it in her hand.

After all, it cost nothing to try it on, did it?

But when Allison tried it on, when she twirled and admired her reflection in the triad of mirrors that formed the back walls of the small changing room, when she saw how the dress transformed her from dull to scintillating, she knew she had to have it.

‘How is it?’ the assistant asked through the thin curtain of the changing room.

Allison nodded at her reflection. ‘It’s perfect. I’ll take it.’

* * *

The dress had sat in her wardrobe, unworn, in the months since she’d bought it. Now and then, she’d take it out, getting pleasure from the sheer gorgeousness of it. Reluctant as she was to attend Lorraine’s birthday celebrations, it was an opportunity to wear it.