Conferences are Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

couldn’t have made it clearer that you’ve no intention of trying to sort things out with him.”
    Laura ground the heel of a brown boot into the shingle. When she spoke, her voice was harsh. Not for the first time, Lindsay wondered at the capacity betrayers have for anger against the betrayed. “There wasn’t any going back from the moment he threw me out. He left me in no doubt about that. He wasn’t interested in my explanations, so why the hell should I kid myself?”
    Lindsay looked up at the beautiful face, clenched tight in an expression of bitterness. Then, suddenly, it was gone, and the Laura Craig cool mask was back in place.
    â€œWell, I hope he’s worth it,” Lindsay said harshly.
    She turned away, giving the dog a final pat and strode up the beach as fast as the shingle would allow. She didn’t grant Laura a single backward glance.
    Â 
    By the time she returned to the Winter Gardens, Lindsay’s run-in with Union Jack was already history. At least half a dozen things had happened which had grabbed the attention of delegates desperate to be riveted by anything other than conference business. But although the rest of the world seemed oblivious to Lindsay’s highly charged encounter with the father of her chapel, it was still vivid in her mind. It didn’t need Ian’s solicitous enquiries as she sat down to remind
her of the wound that Union Jack had so callously opened.
    â€œAre you okay? Bloody Union Jack. I can’t believe he could be so bloody insensitive,” he said, but not quietly enough to avoid arousing the interest of other members of the delegation. “Even though he didn’t know about Frances, he still had no right to drag her in like that.”
    Lindsay rubbed a hand over her face. Any good the fresh air had done her vanished like mist in sunshine. “He was just trying to discredit me, that’s all. Making sure that anyone who didn’t know I’m a dyke knows now. That and telling everyone that I’m somebody else’s puppet. Why should I expect him to have known about Frances?”
    By now, the entire table had given up any pretence of listening to the debate. Lindsay and Ian were the center of everyone’s attention, even Paul leaning forward to hear better.
    â€œBecause he bloody should have. Because you’re a member of his chapel, and for three months your partner was fighting a losing battle against cancer. He should have made it his business to see you had any support you needed.”
    Lindsay sighed, and patted the fist Ian was banging on the table. “I got the support I needed from you and the rest of my friends. You know I didn’t want a big song and dance about it. Frankly, if Union Jack had been forced to swallow his prejudices and offer me sympathy, the sight of so much hypocrisy would have made me vomit.”
    â€œMaybe so, but you shouldn’t let it rest here. Union Jack treated you abominably, bringing up Frances like that, and I want to take it to the chapel committee. You deserve an apology,” Ian said defiantly. He had not noticed that Laura had come up behind him while he spoke.
    â€œAnd that’ll really make Lindsay feel better,” she said sarcastically. “For Christ’s sake, Ian, let the woman bury her dead in peace.”
    Ian whirled round in his seat, the chair legs screeching on the floor. He faced Laura, his face flushed scarlet. By now, the surrounding delegation tables were agog. Lindsay felt a slow
anger burn in her. How dare Laura use her pain as a stick to beat Ian with?
    â€œWhat the hell has this got to do with you?” he demanded belligerently.
    â€œExactly as much as it has to do with you. Christ, Ian, you’re just as bad as Union Jack. You’re as willing to use Lindsay’s grief for your own political ends as he is,” Laura snapped.
    â€œStay out of this, Laura,” Lindsay butted in. “This is nothing