Breaking the Ice Read Online Free PDF

tribute band won Stars in Their Eyes and there’s a rumour that Jane McDonald might be coming to the hall next year.’
    ‘ Sam what is wrong with you?!’
    ‘ Nothing’s wrong with me. I’m not the one sounding like a groupie. He was very ordinary and we didn’t speak. I was on the phone and gave him brief written directions to the dressing rooms. The whole thing lasted less than a minute,’ Samantha explained and she picked Cleo’s abandoned plate from the table and sniffed at it.
    ‘ My God, there are very few occasions in my life when I wish I was you but this is one of them. I would have killed to have been across a desk from him,’ Cleo remarked, her eyes glazing over as she daydreamed.
    ‘ Don’t you mean across a desk with him! Is my corned beef in here?’ Samantha questioned, eyeing the leftover meal with suspicion.
    ‘ You are unbelievable,’ Cleo replied, snatching the plate from her sister and standing up from her seat.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Three
     
    That evening the bar was deathly quiet. There were no shows, there was no passing trade to speak of and the pigeon fanciers were ensconced in their meeting. Samantha had already polished all the glasses, rewashed those with hardened, seemingly irremovable lipstick marks and now she was reorganising the shelves. Still, it was almost 10.30pm and the meeting would soon be over which meant the members of the Pigeon Association would shortly be flocking to the bar for a nightcap before heading home.
    She was just about to move the crisps boxes into alphabetical order when the doors to the conference room swung open and people began to head towards the bar area. Samantha put down the crisps and hurriedly washed her hands. Any moment now she would have to attempt to make at least twenty coffees using the completely unreliable coffee machine.
    But no one seemed to be coming up to the bar at all. Then she saw Arnold Forester, dark hair, thick Brian Blessed beard, and her hopes were raised. He always had a whisky and lemonade after a meeting. However he hurriedly headed for the exit without even looking in her direction. Hot on Arnold’s heels was Michael Knowles, grey hair, moustache like Hercule Poirot, usually a double brandy. What was wrong with them tonight? Where were they going?
    As more and more people left the hall without so much as a glance her way, Samantha lost heart and again picked up the box of crisps. She bent down to put it back under the bar and when she stood up she jumped. Jimmy Lloyd was sat on one of the bar stools in front of her.
    ‘ Hello again,’ he greeted.
    ‘ Hello, sorry, I didn’t see you there,’ Samantha replied, hurriedly picking up a packet of filter coffee and crinkling it noisily in her hands.
    She then shook the box containing more packets of coffee, in the hope the sound would attract the pigeon fanciers to the bar facility.
    ‘ Would you recommend the coffee?’ Jimmy enquired, watching her shaking the box up and down.
    ‘ Sorry?’ Samantha asked, still looking at the exit and wondering why all her potential customers were going home.
    ‘ The coffee you’re shaking up there, would you recommend it?’ Jimmy repeated.
    Mrs Danvers, the treasurer of the Pigeon Association caught Samantha’s attention. The buxom lady, Fern Britton before the gastric band, had her trademark, Millets tent-style dress on, in fuchsia. Samantha offered a smile but tonight she wasn’t acknowledged. Mrs Danvers swished towards the door. She was a sweet sherry and a packet of pistachios. Now all hope of significant takings was truly gone.
    Jimmy cleared his throat. This brought home the fact she had practically ignored him and he was a customer she could do with.
    ‘ Oh I’m sorry. What can I get you?’ Samantha asked him, putting down the coffee she had been drumming against her hand.
    ‘ Coffee seems like a good choice,’ Jimmy responded, smiling at her.
    He had white teeth. Very white teeth. The kind of teeth that