Bones Under The Beach Hut Read Online Free PDF Page A

put the carpet down. I'd
forgotten. I just dropped in one morning last week when I was walking the dogs,
and the carpet was rolled up in there, so I unrolled it and laid it down.'
        'And
you didn't notice that the floorboards had been burnt through?'
        'No,
I didn't,' replied Philly, having regained her self-possession.
        Carole
opened her mouth for another question, but caught the deterrent look in Jude's
eye and restrained herself. At that moment the direction of the conversation
was diverted by the arrival of their Dover soles, served by a grinning and
pigtailed Zosia who greeted Carole and Jude warmly.
        When
talk resumed, it was about the differences between Smalting and Fethering, a
subject on which Philly Rose had some amusing insights. Though even humour
could not disguise her underlying melancholy. She was in a state of shock,
nearly two months on and still unable to come to terms with no longer having
Mark in her life.
        'Sometimes,'
she admitted, 'I do find the gentility of Smalting almost suffocating. It's
like being permanently at a posh dinner party. I'm constantly afraid of saying
the wrong thing. And as a result there's a strong temptation to say or do
something totally outrageous.'
        Tethering
can be a bit like that too,' said Jude.
        'Can
it?' asked Carole, genuinely surprised.
        'Oh,
come on, some of the types round the Yacht Club are pretty stuffy, not to
mention all the old biddies who play bridge every afternoon.'
        'Yes,
I suppose so.'
        'Anyway,
Carole and I aren't like that,' said Jude with a grin. 'We are representatives
of the Bohemian sector of Fethering.'
        Her
neighbour didn't think that was probably true, not of herself anyway. It was
certainly the first time in her life that anyone had ever described Carole
Seddon as 'Bohemian' and though she suspected that Jude was teasing, she found
she was rather attracted to the idea.
        'Do
you find that the locals in Smalting have accepted you, Philly?' asked Jude.
        'Oh,
I don't think "accepted" quite. That takes a good few years.'
        'And
they'd feel happier if your family had been there for three generations,'
suggested Carole.
        'Well,
no, not really, because none of the people in Smalting have actually been there
that long. House prices are far too high for the locals. The place has been
bought up mostly by retired couples with whacking great pensions. Mind you,
even if they've only been there a couple of years, they still make you feel
your lowly status as an "incomer".'
        'Does
it get you down?' asked Jude gently.
        That
prompted a rueful grin from Philly. 'It used not too. We used to find it quite
funny, giggle about it. But that was . . . well... It does get me down a bit.
Doesn't take much, I'm afraid, to get me down these days.' Again Carole and
Jude could sense the depth of her pain.
        Conversation
flowed easily enough for the rest of the meal, but they kept to uncontroversial
subjects of local interest. When Jude raised the question of dessert or coffee,
Philly Rose looked at her watch and said, 'Sorry, I must dash. I have actually
- thank God - had a commission designing a brochure and I'm up against a
deadline.'
        'Good
you've got some work,' said Jude.
        'Yes.
Anyway, must be off.' She reached for a wallet in the back pocket of her white
jeans. 'Now how much will my share be?'
        'No,
my idea, my treat,' said Jude.
        'Well,
if you're sure . . But Philly didn't take much convincing. 'I'm very grateful,
because things—'
        'It's
fine,' Jude interrupted sensitively. 'By the way, when we last spoke you said
you were thinking of selling the house. Is that still your plan?'
        'I
think it must be. I can't really see much alternative.' And a new level of
bleakness came into her brown eyes.
        'Things'll
sort themselves out,' said Jude.
        'Yeah.'
Philly's response was