Highbridge Read Online Free PDF

polo. As such, the watch could slide and be swivelled in its case to show only the steel back and protect it from stray mallet attacks. It now very rarely left his wrist, and the back plate displayed both the scars of history and the practicality of the design.
    It was something Sean had come to appreciate more as his wealth grew. That the things often seen as the symbols of wealth usually started life with a very practical purpose. True, there was very little demand for playing polo in Highbridge, but the watch survived the rigours of potting conifers, even if the straps didn’t.
    ‘I need a new strap for my watch,’ he called out to Sandra.
    ‘Right now?’
    ‘Next time you’re in having your jewellery serviced.’ Then his mind changed tack. How ridiculous was all this? How ridiculous is life. From peeling icy curtains from frosted windows to living in a six-bedroomed house with constant hot water, and wanting a new strap for a watch that was worth more than a few months’ pay for most of his staff, simply because he was too sentimental to take it off.
    Sandra emerged from the dressing room looking, as she always did, as though she’d stepped off a fashion shoot but immediately picked up his now pensive mood. ‘C’mon. You know why you got into all this anti-drugs stuff. Although I don’t know why you bother. Dressing up for dinner isn’t going to change much. But if we are, do you have to wear that suit?’
    Sean turned to look at himself in the mirror. Automatically sucking in his stomach. ‘What? This is my favourite suit.’
    ‘Which is why it’s worn out. Too small and …’ – she playfully prodded him in the stomach – ‘ten years old. Wear the blue Gieves and Hawkes.’
    Sean let out a resigned sigh. He knew she was right, so turned back towards his wardrobe. ‘OK. I give in. On the suit. But as for tonight, everything starts with someone thinking they can do it better.’
    ‘And that’s you, is it?’ she asked, smoothing down the lines of the Anglomania Taxa dress. She’d also put on a few pounds since she bought it.
    ‘Someone has to try,’ Sean replied but wanted to move on. It was a recurring conversation. ‘Er … But if I’m changing, what happened to the red dress you showed me earlier?’
    ‘Too low.’
    ‘That’s why I like it.’
    ‘But not for a bunch of do-goody druggie-huggers. Or having Rupert Bronks from the Golf Club’s nose in my cleavage all night. I’ll feel better in this.’
    ‘Then why ask my opinion?’
    ‘See if you can make the right choice. And if you still fancy me.’
    ‘You’re still here, aren’t you?’
    ‘And God only knows why. Do this up for me then.’
    He crossed to help her fasten her bracelet but held her hand for a moment. ‘The cost of that could fund this whole drug rehabilitation programme for three years, you know.’
    ‘And we didn’t work for twenty years to give it away. Now come on, we’re late.’
    ‘What’s with the we …?’
    ‘And don’t go on about your mountaineering skills being honed by deprivation, again. Hard times are affecting everyone at the moment.’
    ‘Says the woman in the megabucks bracelet.’
    ‘And the guy with the Lecoultre watch? A lecture on poverty would sound rich, coming from you.’
    Sean laughed at the barbed pun. ‘Good one, that. But we worked for it.’
    ‘Exactly. We didn’t get here by shoving stuff up our noses, sponging, or mugging other people. We worked bloody hard. And God knows, some days I feel like part of a persecuted minority. Doomed to solve all political issues by paying more and more taxes. Don’t we do enough, spending it to keep the economy going? Mind you, I know that’s not going to get any sympathy votes, is it? Just as I know you’ll want to recount your adventures from the most deprived council estate in the world. But stick to what happened to Jane. And what we need to do to stop it. Cut the liberal tolerance crap and get them into jobs. OK. Let’s