Her Heart's Choice by Rosie Meddon

Author:Rosie Meddon
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Canelo
Published: 2021-03-15T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

‘I’ve said I’m sorry, Lou.’

‘I know.’

‘And I am. But I’ve told you before, it’s business.’

‘I know.’

It was Saturday morning and, just after ten o’clock, Winnie had come up to announce that Harry was downstairs. On learning of his arrival, Lou’s first thought had been to ask Winnie to relay the message that she didn’t want to see him, the only thing stopping her being the prospect of the other girls newsing behind her back about who had dumped who. On top of everything else right now, being the subject of their gossip was something she could do without.

And so, having arrived in the parlour and deliberately chosen to sit in one of the chairs – rather than on the settee where he might sit next to her – she was now staring down at the rug, waiting to see what he had to say for himself. So far, she had heard nothing new.

‘Look,’ he said. Obediently, she looked up. This morning, minus both his hat and his tie, and with his shirt collar undone and his sleeves rolled up above his elbows, he looked unfinished. Ordinary. A bit scruffy, even. The problem was, it could so easily be part of an act to elicit her sympathy. She wouldn’t put it past him. ‘You liked the bracelet, didn’t you.’

And that was another thing: he never asked her a question so much as delivered a statement, usually in a tone that made it difficult for her to disagree.

‘I did. It’s beautiful.’

‘And the fox fur… and the perfume. You liked the perfume.’

‘I’ve liked everything you’ve given me,’ she said flatly. There was no point lying. He would see through a lie in an instant. ‘You’re always very generous.’

‘Well, then you need to understand how it’s me doing the business you don’t like that gets all the things you do.’

Still nothing new. ‘I know that too.’

Getting to his feet, he came to crouch in front of her. He didn’t, she was relieved to notice, reach to take her hands. Having him touch her would weaken her resolve even further, and it was shaky enough as it was.

‘Look, Lou, some men work by sitting on their arses in a cushy office all day. Others build ships or drive a tram or… or grow spuds. Me, I graft on the streets. I’m not complaining. I get by on my wits and reap the rewards of my own efforts. But it ain’t the sort of work that can be done between the hours of eight and six. I have to meet people, haggle, grease palms, whatever it takes to do the deal and get the stuff people want. Stuff people don’t mind paying for. And I make no apology for being good at it.’ With a shrug of his shoulders, he sat back on his haunches. ‘But then you seen that already.’

Trying to avoid meeting his look, she pressed her lips together. Nothing he’d said was untrue. The problem was, neither did it change anything.

‘I know all of that,’ she said, finally meeting his look.

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