Broken Wings Read Online Free PDF

“Um. You noticed.
What did you want? If it’s about some stain I left on the backseat, I’m sorry.”
    “Did you? I don’t mind. What I wanted to ask is if you’d like to have a few
drinks with me.”
    Rye felt every speck of her body go still.
    “I know this place near the bridge,” Flora said. “Very low key. Relaxed. The
music isn’t so loud that you can’t hear yourself think. In fact, it’s quite
comfortable for conversation. We could – Have I said something wrong?”
    “Um.” Rye found it difficult to breathe. She ran her hand through her hair and
scowled at the peeling wallpaper.
    “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. You’ll probably find this
hard to believe, but I’m not normally this pushy.”
    Rye’s mind had gone blank.
    “Branch,” Flora murmured. “I’ve done this rather badly, haven’t I? I’m so sorry.
Look, I think I’d better leave. Please think it over. If you change your mind,
you have my number. And thanks for tea.”
    Rye stood with a scraping of her chair legs. Her limping brain realised that she
had better see her visitor out.
    The front door slammed.
    “Hey, Rye!” Holly strode to the kitchen. “You’ll never guess what is parked –
Oh. Ms. Withe.”
    “Hello, Holly,” Flora said.
    Rye chewed her lip and didn’t know where to put herself. Flora behaved as though
the awkwardness didn’t exist. She looked genuinely interested when Holly dug out
her purchases to show her.
    Rye sat and watched and tried to think. Flora Withe wanted to have a few drinks
with her. Was that so shocking? Rye had been out to the pub with some of the
blokes from work on odd occasions. Rye imagined Flora Withe would prove better
company than Knot and Blackie. There was the disturbing aspect that she was
easily the most attractive woman Rye had ever met. But that was not likely to
matter. Rye had been safely celibate for years, and it was highly improbable
that Flora Withe was gay. Even if she were, Rye would be deluding herself to
think that the successful, stylish, poised, beautiful dryad would want anything
to do with a builder’s labourer. On the other hand, she was a very nice person.
The last hour or so had been enjoyable and easy… and adult.
    “I’d better be going.” Flora rose and picked up her sunglasses and purse.
“Thanks for the tea.”
    “I’ll see you out,” Rye said.
    Holly leaped to her feet. “I’d better come to give you directions. Rye is
hopeless. You’ll end up in the river.”
    “Don’t you have to go and show Daisy your new clothes?” Rye said.
    Holly’s rebellious pout faded in an eye blink. “Oh, yeah. Stupid me. Okay. See
you later, Ms. Withe.”
    Holly grabbed her bags and strode out. Rye frowned. That had been unexpectedly
easy.
    “She’s a good kid,” Flora said.
    “Yeah. But very strange sometimes,” Rye said. “I guess it’s the hormones
poaching her brain.”
    Flora smiled. “Look, I’m really sorry about before. Can we forget I said
anything?”
    “Um. Well. I was sort of thinking that… um. Yeah. I mean to the drinks.”
    Flora’s eyebrows lifted. “Yes?”
    “I was a bit, you know, surprised. So, if… if the offer still stands.”
    “Of course. When? How about Third Day?”
    “Um. No, I can’t,” Rye said. “How about next Fifth Day? Or today?”
    Flora blinked. “Sure. Why not? No time like the present. Shall I pick you up at
seven?”
    “Can… can I meet you at the corner of the street?”

Chapter Three
    Rye surveyed the piles of her clothes. She pulled on her tightest of tight
T-shirts. Then what? Rye frowned and ended up choosing the shirt and pants that
Holly had picked out for her to wear to the school art exhibition.
    She pulled out the loose knot in the wall and retrieved a small wad of money.
She had just paid Holly’s school fees, so her savings only amounted to
fifty-five pieces. She took a ten piece note. That would cover the cost of a
couple of jars of beer. Although, Flora Withe did