Island in the Sea Read Online Free PDF

Penelope glanced at his dark curls. She studied his green eyes and the cleft on his chin. “Marian had pretty girls but she outdid herself with you.” She fiddled with her diamond choker. “I’ll let you stay if you do something for me.”
    Lionel blushed and gripped his glass tightly. He stood up and smoothed his shirt.
    â€œDon’t be silly, I’m not trying to seduce you.” Penelope laughed. “I have a virile husband who runs marathons and competes in bicycle races in France. My neighbor has a nanny, an Irish girl who’s never been in London. She spends all her time when she’s not working in her room. Georgina is afraid she’s homesick and will go back to Galway.” Penelope tapped her fingernails on the marble counter. “I want you to ask her out.”
    Lionel pictured a girl with blotchy skin in a tweed sweater and opaque stockings. He imagined sitting in a noisy pub and eating plates of greasy fish and chips.
    â€œI don’t have any money,” he stumbled.
    Penelope walked to the pantry and unscrewed a glass cookie jar.
    â€œHer name is Samantha.” She handed him four twenty-pound notes. “You can have the room over the garage; it has central heating and you’ll have your own private bath.”
    *   *   *
    Lionel climbed the stone steps of the white Georgian manor and took a deep breath. He would take Samantha to the brasserie at Motocomb’s and buy her a glass of Chablis and a Caesar salad. They would talk about the new production of The Winter’s Tale and Princess Diana’s good deeds in Bosnia. He would say he had an early job interview and be in his new room with its Frette sheets and Krupp’s espresso maker by 10 P.M . He’d still have time to finish the lyrics to a song he scribbled on the train.
    He rang the doorbell and clutched a bouquet of purple daisies. The double front doors opened and he saw a young woman with blond hair knotted into a bun. She had blue eyes and alabaster skin. She wore a paisley yellow dress and narrow leather belt.
    â€œI was looking for Samantha,” he mumbled, gazing at her full breasts and long legs.
    â€œI’m Samantha,” she replied, accepting the flowers. She leaned down to smell them and her hair escaped its bun. Lionel had the sudden impulse to tuck her hair behind her ears. He wanted to stroke her cheek and run his fingers over her pink mouth.
    â€œWould you like to come in?” she asked. “I’m sure wine bars in Belgravia are expensive, I could fix us a tuna sandwich in the kitchen.”
    â€œNo, thank you,” Lionel said, suddenly flustered. “I have a craving for baked pheasant and creamed potatoes. Have you ever had Motocomb’s quince? They serve it with pistachio ice cream and it’s delicious.”
    *   *   *
    They sat at the oak bar and drank white wine with crème de cassis. Lionel ordered a wilted lettuce salad with mozzarella and avocado and bacon. He watched Samantha drizzle olive oil on heirloom tomatoes and felt a stirring in his slacks. He gripped his wineglass and suddenly longed for a double shot of whiskey.
    â€œWe can finish our drinks and say goodnight.” She dabbed her mouth with a napkin. “I’ll take a stroll around Eaton Square and pretend we stayed for dinner. I’ll pay for the appetizer and you’ll only be out two glasses of wine and a bunch of daisies.”
    â€œI don’t know what you mean.” Lionel shifted on his stool.
    â€œI overheard Georgina talking on the phone. She was thrilled Penelope found me a date because she thinks I’m lonely.” She looked at Lionel and her eyes sparkled. “If she only knew how wonderful it is to have my own bedroom and not have my sisters borrow my bras and underwear.”
    â€œPenelope might have suggested I call, but I wanted to come.” Lionel loosened his collar. “In fact I think we