Aisling Gayle Read Online Free PDF Page B

resist stretching up an arm to shake them. Like a child with Christmas-tree decorations, she found herself laughing as the metal and wood creations tinkled at the slightest touch.
    The day after they had arrived at the Harpers’ house, Bruce had spent time telling Aisling where he had bought each windchime, and explaining the symbols and pictures that adorned them. There was a particularly striking one that hung from a weeping willow. It was positioned in the middle of the little ornamental bridge which stood at the bottom of the garden. It was made of bamboo canes and light metal, with flowers delicately painted on each part. It was her favourite one, and if she saw any like it in the shops while she was over, she planned on buying one to take back home.
    When she reached the lake, Aisling set her stuff down on the wooden picnic table and, slipping off her cream sling-back sandals, she walked down to the edge of the water. She stood still, drinking in the breathtaking view that surrounded her.
    At first glance, it looked as though the lake was completely encircled with trees, but on closer inspection, Aisling could see houses dotted every so often in between the gently swaying pines.
    She had been down at this point several times in the last few days, but always with other people. Usually her mother – seeking Aisling’s advice in urgent whispers on whether they would like barbecues, and what sort of food would they be expected to eat at them. And how might all this unusual food affect Declan’s very sensitive stomach.
    On her own in the silence, Aisling could take the time to really look around her, and appreciate the warmth of the sun and the balmy silence of the still, beautiful lake.
    The morning passed into afternoon, and Aisling ate and drank, read and swam – exactly when she wanted. Moving in and out of the shade as she felt like it. It was bliss. Sheer bliss – with nothing to disturb it.
    Every now and then, Oliver would creep into her thoughts. But she was actually surprised how little it bothered her. She discovered she did not miss him one little bit. Her only feelings were of relief. Relief at not having to pretend every day.
    Nobody here in America knew Oliver, and they knew nothing of the life she led with him. Here – for this few weeks – she could be the Aisling Gayle she wanted to be. Apart from a quick phone call to say she had arrived safely, he might never have existed. And, for the rest of the holiday, that’s exactly how it would be.
    She got up from the slatted, wooden deckchair now and stretched up as far her arms could reach. Then she took off her shirt and shorts, leaving only her swimsuit on. She climbed up on to the long, wooden pier, and – barefoot – walked along to the end. She paused for a few seconds, then dived deep into the clear, blue water. As she surfaced, she could feel the water was warmer than yesterday. It was like being in a huge, luxurious bathtub. A million miles away from the cool lakes back in Ireland, where she had learned to swim.
    Aisling swam first in one direction – about a quarter of the way around the lake’s perimeter – then back to the pier and the same distance in the opposite direction. It was an easy, comfortable distance. As she continued to swim, and she stretched her path further by a few yards each time, she started to catch glimpses of the nearer houses through the trees. Six in all – spread out like the rays of the sun, each set back in more of the tall trees and multicoloured shrubs.
    Occasionally, she could see some movement of people – but the houses were too far away to make out whether a person was male or female, young or old. She wasn’t too bothered who was around the houses. Today, the only company she needed was her own.
    She decided to go in search of lunch around three o’clock. She pulled her blouse and shorts back on and gathered up her bits and pieces. She smiled to herself as she headed back to the house, because her