(2013) Four Widows Read Online Free PDF Page A

complete the stereotype, when he wasn’t working or scratching an unshaven chin, he was singing with his band, Malt. They had a decent fan following on YouTube, apparently.
    “Seriously? No Elvis.” Jim scooted his chair towards me.
    “No Elvis.”
    “I thought he was… cured.”
    “Me too.”
    “Did he reschedule?”
    “Just cancelled.”
    “You okay?” He looked at me slumped in my chair.
    “Me? Uh huh. I’m thinking I might have a back-up plan.” I thought about Suzanne. “New designer.”
    “Hats?”
    “No. Working on her own label. I think she has about 12 dresses. Obsessive blogger–writes shoereview.me.”
    “Do we need a back-up plan for our back-up plan?”
    “Perhaps. I haven’t seen the designs.”
    Jim raised an eyebrow. “You haven’t seen anything .”
    “Actually, yes. The dress she was wearing. Think edgier Erdem and lots of lace.”
    “Must have been some dress. What’s her name?”
    “Suzanne Holmes. The label is Gracie Gold–ring any bells?”
    “None whatsoever. You met at the Art Bar?”
    “Yes, and a few others.” I told him about Cece and Kate. “We have dead husbands in common.”
    “This is the part where I freak out?”
    “Knock yourself out, rock star.”
     

Chapter Five
    Surgeon, Soldier, Superhero
     
    To go to dinner or not to go. It was too tempting to phone the restaurant and make my excuses. I was well-practised in the art of cancellation. Then I had visions of Cecelia Lee sashaying down the street with her pendulum-swinging walk, flattening security guards on the front desk with her charm, bulldozing on.
    She would find me.
    I would go.
    What’s more, I needed to speak to Suzanne and proposition her properly about featuring her designs in Corset. Follow up on the hunch.
    It is work, I told myself, rolling a cold water bottle back and forth across my forehead, exhausted. Meeting the girls had unlocked and released Harrison; brought him back to me with memories I had tried to suffocate.
    I close my eyes. He appears in 3D Technicolor on the other side of the desk. In the office hush, I hear his voice, telling me he wants to transfer from UCLH on Euston Road, London, to Ninewells Hospital in Dundee.
    “I need to do this,” he said, gripping my hand as though falling off a cable car.
    It was a 600km relocation.
    Considering what had happened at UCLH, I didn’t blame him and put it down to stress. I didn’t honestly think he was serious about the move. We were married. We lived and worked in London. This was our life.
    Truth was, Harrison had made up his mind; he was going whether I liked it or not and the decision left me shocked and hurt. So much for marital discussions.
    It rankled because it had been just six months since I was appointed Editor on 2Glam . I loved the job and was devastated at the thought of leaving. But, at the end of the day, I thought, it’s just a job. Marriage is everything. Yes?
    With hindsight, Harrison must have been surprised when I said I would go with him. Blinkered by him, I didn’t suspect trouble. I suppose I thought change happens, mostly when you least expect it. The hospital had taken over our lives latterly, separated us, but I was confident we could get over it; move on.
    “I understand that you have your career here,” he said, staring into his beer when we met in the pub after his shift. “You’ve worked so hard to get to the top. I don’t want you to think I’d ever take this away from you. I’m so proud of you.”
    He sounded like someone from a career advisory service going over my job options.
    I wasn’t taking him seriously at this point. “Then don’t leave the hospital.”
    “I want to. I want to start over without people judging me or questioning my work.”
    “You didn’t do anything wrong . The hospital has given you its full support.”
    “I want to go.”
    “Give it six months. Give it enough time to prove that you are leaving on your terms. Don’t let anyone think you were forced