BooksBarbecue
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 food was good. Allison, who was hungry by that stage, would have liked to have cleared her plate. Instead, conscious of the role she was playing, she pecked at a little, pushed some around the plate before heaving a sigh as she placed her cutlery down. ‘That’s as much as I can manage, I’m afraid.’

They were seated at the end of the large dining room table, Allison at the head, Stuart to her left, closer than necessary and certainly closer than she liked. When he reached a hand to rest it on hers, it took all her control not to pull away.

‘We’re going to need to look after you.’ He squeezed her hand. ‘You’re already so very slim. You’ll fade away.’

His eyes seemed to be boring into her. Transfixing. Allison’s mouth was suddenly dry. She wanted to pull her gaze away… to run away.

It was Portia’s cough that broke his spell.

Spell. Allison shook away the odd notion, pulled her hand from Stuart’s and picked up her cutlery again. ‘You’re right. Maybe I’ll try a little more.’ But this time, she didn’t need to pretend her appetite had gone. It had vanished when she’d seen the look in Stuart’s eyes. A knowing look.

What exactly did he know?

31

The only thing helping to keep Allison together was the knowledge of the taxi arriving at 5 p.m. It wasn’t Stuart or Portia’s fault. Or not Portia’s anyway. She’d been a good friend and Allison knew she’d be horrified if she thought Stuart was… what? Allison flicked a glance in his direction. His expression as usual was bland, unexceptional. Compared to the colourful, eccentric Portia, he was dove-grey dull. But Allison hadn’t imagined it… there had been something in the way he’d looked at her. As if he knew exactly what she’d done.

‘Try to eat some more,’ Portia urged.

Allison knew the food would have been good. It had come from her favourite bistro. Their food never tasted like dry sawdust that stuck to the inside of your mouth in a clagging, choking mess. Only a gulp of wine allowed her to swallow and not disgrace herself by putting her fingers down her throat to pull it out. ‘I really can’t eat any more, I’m sorry.’ She pushed the plate away, turning her wrist to check the time as she did so. Only 4 p.m. Another hour – she wasn’t sure she could manage it.

When she saw Portia stretch across with the wine bottle, she put her hand across the glass and shook her head. ‘No, thanks, honestly, I really can’t drink any more.’ She managed to paste on a smile. ‘I think I’ve already had too much.’

‘A temporary crutch to help you get through these difficult times,’ Stuart intoned as if he was the authority.