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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

When he did, she used an edge of the table covering to dry the glass before lifting it carefully to take a mouthful. Only then did she move away with it in her hand, searching for a place where she could stand without looking conspicuously alone. Lorraine was wrong: she didn’t know everyone. In fact, apart from the few people from the office she’d already seen, nobody looked familiar. Or maybe, like her, they’d taken off their work masks.

Maybe if she downed a few glasses of this bloody awful cheap plonk, she’d be able to relax. Let go. Maybe join the group on the dance floor and sway in time to the music playing now, a song she remembered from her university days but couldn’t put a name to. She hadn’t liked parties then any more than she did now, but back then she and her equally nerdy friends would dance anywhere. The words came to her, and she sang along under her breath, shimmying in time to the music. Lost in the moment, she wasn’t aware of the man who appeared at her shoulder until she felt the warmth of his breath on her cheek as he leaned closer to be heard above the surrounding noise.

‘I’ve always liked this song too.’

Startled, she jerked around, her lips suddenly within kissing distance of a handsome stranger who was looking at her with an admiring glint in his eyes.

Allison took a step away and lifted her glass to her mouth, taking a gulp rather than a sip, her mouth dry. She hoped he’d think the colour in her cheeks was the result of alcohol, not embarrassment… or if she was being completely honest, the unaccustomed, overwhelming dart of desire. Small talk wasn’t her forte; she was great with numbers, above averagely useless with words. ‘How do you know Lorraine?’ An open question, she’d read, was better at promoting interaction.

‘I don’t.’

As a conversation ender, it was perfect. She stared at him, willing her brain to come up with something scintillating to say. It didn’t, but it wouldn’t have mattered; her tongue was suddenly large and clumsy in her mouth, refusing to work.

‘I don’t know anyone here.’ He put a warm hand on her elbow and led her away as they were crushed by a huddle of people attempting to reach the drinks table. ‘I suppose you’d call me a gate-crasher.’