Nowhere Man by Deborah Stone

Author:Deborah Stone [Stone, Deborah]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Published: 2024-10-03T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Diana was no closer to discovering the identity of Mr H. Carpenter. She had contacted the bank where he held his account, but they were unable to give her any details at all, so she was still at a complete loss as to who he was. Diana sat at home one evening, sipping mint tea and nibbling on a square of dark chocolate, which was all she fancied eating these days. She could not even concentrate on reading, which she normally loved, often losing herself for hours between the pages of a book. These days she spent a great deal of time simply staring into space, wondering how it was possible for everything to have collapsed around her in such spectacular fashion.

She glanced up at the bookcase and spotted the photograph albums on the top shelf which she had lovingly collated over the years. She jumped up in a burst of unusual energy and dragged one of the chairs from the dining room table over to the edge of the bookcase. She perched on the chair, wobbling precariously as she lifted the albums down one by one. Snapshots of a lifetime together.

She opened the first volume and smiled. Patrick looked so young smiling out from beneath the plastic sleeve, sporting a thick head of dark hair, his fringe flopping over his forehead, his body lithe and athletic. He had been a keen footballer when they first met, although a hamstring injury a year later put paid to his playing career, such as it was, on the local team who he had lined up with on a Saturday afternoon. After that, he had not maintained his fitness, although Diana thought that it had been harder for everyone to do in the eighties. There were no gyms on every corner as there were these days, or as many physiotherapists to rehab you.

She first met Patrick at a party. She did not enjoy parties. She never knew what to wear and would spend hours before she had to leave trying on different permutations of the few outfits she owned. The truth was, she never liked herself in any of them. Her chest was too flat, and her waist was too straight; running parallel with her hips, denying any discernible curve. She looked more like a young boy than young woman, especially because she kept her hair short. Diana was not someone who felt particularly at ease with her own sexuality. In fact, she felt a strong urge to disguise it rather than flaunt it, because male attention frightened her. In fact, any kind of attention was not something she sought, which was why she hated walking into a room full of people that she did not know. But sometimes, it was unavoidable, such as on the night she met Patrick, because the party was being thrown at her own flat which she shared with three other girls. Not only did she have to be there, but she could not even leave early.

She

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