A Dark Dividing Read Online Free PDF Page B

sniggering over what Goldilocks was doing, and most of them could have supplied a list of who she was doing it with as well, in fact quite a few of them were actually on the list themselves.
    That had been the point at which Harry had gone on that spectacular month-long binge, missing most of his deadlines, and turning up half-cut to interview some blonde airhead starlet who was not so airheaded that she did not know how to complain to a managing director and get Harry fired from the more-than-reputable Sunday broadsheet where he had worked for five years, and where he had been due to be made assistant features editor with a breathlessly eager assistant of his own and a share in a secretary.
    But like the famous women’s lib anthem, he had survived. He had made of Amanda’s new husband a figure of ridicule. Absolutely inorganic, he told people. A Trivial Pursuit. And even though he had hit rock bottom hard enough to crack the cement he had eventually started the long climb back into a career, although it was a pity the climb had had to begin on the staff of the Bellman .
    Since then he had steadfastly avoided beautiful females who thought their looks absolved them from worrying about intelligence or personality or sensitivity, and who invariably ran off with richer, more satisfactory lovers.
    But if they were talking about beautiful females with rich lovers…

    Harry thought he would have been less than human not to get a kick from walking into Aubergine with Angelica Thorne. She was wearing a mulberry velvet outfit with a very short skirt, and her legs, which were extremely good, were encased in black stockings. No, they would be tights, not stockings. Or would they? It was to be hoped this did not prove a distraction; Harry reminded himself firmly that this was a ruse to find out about Simone and therefore a working dinner, and was rewarded by an inner derisive hoot.
    The waiters recognized Angelica of course, and leapt to provide menus and wine-lists, and to enquire whether the table was satisfactory. Would another table be preferred? No, it was no trouble in the least. I’m spending money like a drunken sailor, thought Harry, and what’s worse, I’m spending money I haven’t got.
    Angelica talked enthusiastically on the gallery and on the run-up to its opening. ‘For one thing it took ages to find the right place, you can’t imagine the prices of property in London, well, I daresay you can—where did you say you lived? Oh, I see. Oh, rather fun out there, I should think.’
    â€˜A riot. Tell me about finding the house.’
    â€˜Well, it had to be the right part of London, because—oh, they’re doing partridge au choux tonight, let’s have that, shall we?—because the thing is that you can’t have a gallery in the East India Dock Road or Whitechapel, can you? Well, I know there’s the Spitalfields concerts these days and they’re very successful, but I think that might be an exception.’
    â€˜But you found the Bloomsbury house,’ said Harry.
    â€˜Simone found it. She said we absolutely had to have it, never mind what it cost. As a matter of fact,’ said Angelica, ‘she was quite intense about it.’ She broke off to eat the pâté that was the first course. She ate with a kind of hungry sensuality; Harry watched her and remembered the black stockings. He waited, and after a moment Angelica said, ‘I don’t mean to go all Edgar Allan Poe or Susan Hill about her, but at times I wonder if Simone might be—well, wired in to something the rest of us aren’t.’
    â€˜You don’t mean drugs, do you?’
    â€˜No, not drugs, I’m fairly sure she doesn’t take anything. But she picks up atmospheres and things.’
    â€˜Atmospheres?’
    â€˜Yes. I think she’s a bit telepathic as well—that can be frightfully disconcerting sometimes.’
    â€˜I should think it