Easy Silence by Angela Huth

Author:Angela Huth [Huth, Angela]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Bloomsbury Publishing
Published: 2013-02-15T05:00:00+00:00

8

It was not in Grace’s nature to initiate rows, but her anger on discovering what Lucien had done seethed so furiously all day that she determined to confront him when he arrived next morning. His outrageous act signified it was time to put an end to his troublesome visits. The pity–the affection, even–she felt for him was now far outweighed by her fury.

Her intention was to brace herself for the row as soon as he arrived–she might even refuse him his customary tea and toast -and to be rid of him by nine thirty. Then, putting the whole disagreeable matter from her mind, she would spend the rest of the day preparing for William’s return. On the telephone he explained there had been a less than successful expedition to some weird church, and he was tired and hungry and looking forward to being home. God, was she looking forward to that too …

Her plans were confused by Lucien’s non-appearance at the usual time. Nine thirty, nine forty-five, still no sign. Perhaps, too guilty to face her, he wasn’t going to appear at all. Perhaps the return of the cufflinks had been a farewell sign. Well, in some ways that would make everything easier. Grace would not have to charge herself up to shout and accuse. She would be spared his intimidating response–something she had witnessed on occasions if ever she had offered some small criticism. She would not have to resist one of his sudden bouts of charm and persuasiveness should he disagree with the plan to bring their peculiar relationship to an end.

At ten o’clock Grace began her preparations for William’s supper. Convinced by now she would not be seeing Lucien today, she felt her usual calm override the obnoxious tumult of the last twenty-four hours, and concentrated on the pleasing rolling of her pastry. With so much on her mind, it had not occurred to her to protect herself from surprise by locking the back door. At ten past eleven she heard it open. There was the familiar sound of Lucien’s slouchy tread: and there he was, grinning down at her. Lucien with huge dull pupils to his eyes, damp jacket, thickly bristling jowls.

To one who is unaccustomed to entertaining anger in the first place, to reassemble it once it has faded is not an easy matter. Grace, knife in hand (she had been making such a fine job of slicing the edges of the pastry from the pie dish), stood looking at him in incredulous silence, waiting for a pulse of indignation to fire her.

There: caught you out, didn’t I? Tricked you! Bet you thought I wasn’t coming. Bet you thought now I’d returned them I wouldn’t be coming back to face the music.’ He was smiling. The scoffing bore no malice.

‘Lucien,’ Grace said.

Lucien took a step towards her. He put a hand on her shoulder. She stiffened. He removed it at once.

‘Look, I can explain. I’m no thief–well, am I? You know that. I nick a bit from those who won’t miss it if I’m desperate.

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