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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

‘No.’ The word came out stark and unadorned. It seemed it was necessary in the face of what was becoming unpleasant persistence. When she saw her friend’s face fall, she felt a twinge of guilt. ‘I’m sorry, that was rude.’ She lifted a hand to her forehead again. The headache was worsening; soon, it would be unbearable. ‘I’m tired, I have a headache, all I want to do is go home.’ Her voice, now plaintive, seemed to get through to them.

‘Oh, you poor love,’ Portia said, getting to her feet and rushing around the table to gather Allison in a hug. ‘Of course, you do whatever is best for you. We’re just trying to help.’

‘I know, and I am most grateful. You’ve been so kind.’ Allison felt a twinge of guilt. Portia had been extremely kind, dashing around last night when she’d needed her, going with her that morning, going to the trouble of ordering her favourite food. And don’t forget the Fortnum & Mason Florentines. ‘Extremely kind.’ She managed to include Stuart in her smile of gratitude.

It wasn’t his fault she found him creepy.

32

The taxi arrived on the dot of five, allowing Allison to escape. In the hallway, she slipped her feet into her shoes. ‘Thank you so much for everything,’ she said, hugging Portia. It was sincerely meant. She’d been a good friend. When Allison pulled away to see Stuart waiting to say goodbye, she wondered if she could make a run for the front door, rush through it and jump into the waiting taxi before he could get closer.

But he was between her and the door. She didn’t think she’d manage to rugby tackle him to the floor and step over his prostrate body. Or even better, grind the heels of her stilettos into the paunch oozing over his trouser belt.

She wondered if he’d read her mind when she saw a hint of a smile curve his lips. Or was he smiling in anticipation? She held her breath as he closed in on her.

‘Poor, poor Allison. Don’t forget, we’re here if you need us.’ He put his hands on her shoulders and pulled her into his arms. Too close. A musky scent, the combination of aftershave and deodorant perhaps, couldn’t quite hide a nose-crinkling body odour. Too close and for too long.

Allison hoped she was imagining the heat she felt pressing against her belly. The tight band of his arms kept her pressed against him. Stretching her neck, she drew her face away. ‘The taxi driver will be getting impatient.’

‘Yes, yes,’ he said, pressing his lips to hers. Briefly, but not briefly enough.

Allison would swear she felt the tip of his tongue pressing between them.