Before and After Read Online Free PDF Page A

the bones of a man behind the gawkiness and undeniable sulkiness of the middle class teenager. He was going to be one of those youths who elicited sighs from both sexes. But, not just yet.
    I noted the tea tray on the table and smiled genially at everyone. By my calculations Archie had about five minutes to get here, so I settled myself next to Arabella on the sofa, wincing slightly at the reflected yellow glare.
    “Well, here we are,” I said inanely, trying to ignore Hal who was staring at me so hard that I think it could well be termed as gawping.
    “You must be Arabella,” I turned to smile at her, “Of course I’ve already met your mother and Marmaduke, so you,” I turned sideways awkwardly in my seat and looked up at Hal, “Must be Harry.”
    He awkwardly crossed the room to shake my proffered hand. The handshake was damp and a little cloying, but I didn’t hold it against him. I know what sort of effect I can have on testosterone ridden young men. I smiled sweetly at him and had the undeniable pleasure of watching a sweep of colour flood his face and neck. I studied him as I watched his blush deepen. A slight sheen of sweat pearled his brow, and I guessed that he was desperately wondering if his deodorant was working whilst trying not to care one way or another in a sort of Goth meets James Dean attitude.
    “Shall we wait for Mr Amble?” I said, tearing my amused eyes from Hal and looking at the plate of hot toast.
    “Oh, no, daddy never gets home before seven, and even then” - Arabella replied, already greedily reaching for hers.
    As if to prove her a liar, Marmaduke leapt to his feet and made welcoming yips at the door, wagging his tail with such ferocity the tea tray was in danger of toppling over. We all had heard the front door and turned expectantly to the noise of footsteps rushing across the hall.
    The door was flung open and Archie Amble, all six foot two of him, burst into the room.
    “My god, Sylvia, what the hell is going on, I was in a meeting with Sir George when I had the most extraordinary message, are you alright…” his voice tailed off as he took in the sight of his ordinary family gathered round an ordinary tea tray with me in the midst, like an exotic creature of the darkness, or, should you wish to be more prosaic, a cuckoo, albeit, a smartly gleaming jet black one, perched next to his chubby daughter.
    His look was of a man that had been thwarted of a drama. Here he was, dragged screaming out of a pat on the back type meeting with awful Sir George, the very least his wife could do would be to be found foaming at the mouth on the hearthrug. As it was she looked just faintly surprised and was holding a cup halfway to her lips.
    “My fault,” I practically purred, “But I do find that a hint of trouble always gets a secretary beetling away delivering messages. I suggested that you might well like to be at home with your family for tea, that’s all.”
    Archie glared at me, and opened his mouth to say something. What, we shall never know, as I wrong footed him by handing out the presents.
    Gifts are so disarming.
    I took the opportunity of introducing myself formally to Archie, letting my shawl drop slightly.
    “Flora Tate, by the way. I’m so glad you could come home for tea. Now then, would you like some of Maria’s delicious cherry jam on your toast, or are you a Gentleman’s Relish sort of chap?” I enquired sweetly, holding Archie’s arm and guiding him towards a chair. Archie fairly tottered onto his seat, like an elderly rheumatic taking the cure at Baden Baden. I let him stare at the region of my chest for a while, before engaging his eyes with mine and then settled myself beside Arabella again, draping my dark clothes as attractively as I could around me.
    Arabella was rummaging through the make up I had given her holding up the lipsticks to the light. Her face which was blurred with puppy fat looked truculent, but I could tell that she was pleased to receive what