Jumping to Conclusions Read Online Free PDF

understands these things. Was Kath very vicious?'
    'Made Vlad the Impaler look like Mother Theresa.'
    Gillian laughed. 'Yes, I can imagine. Poor you. Oh, I suppose I really ought to be getting back – the boys have probably burned down the Vicarage by now. Sorry again for startling you. You must be dying for a long hot soak and a glass or two of something.'
    Charlie nodded. He wondered for a moment whether there were dire ecclesiastical penalties for suggesting that a vicar's wife would be more than welcome to scrub his back. 'Are you sure you're okay?'
    'Fine, really. I was just trying to gain a bit of spiritual guidance about the tangles in my life ...' She sighed and pulled the softness of the cloak round her slender figure. 'God didn't appear to be listening. It's so difficult trying to juggle everything and the parish duties – oh, you've got tons of problems of your own. You don't want to listen to mine.'
    Charlie decided he wouldn't have minded at all. The idea of the willowy Gillian curled in one of the armchairs in his sitting room, while he sat on the floor at her feet and they shared a bottle of red, was far from unpleasant. 'Anything I can help with?'
    'Not immediately. Not unless you could help me lose a lot of money.'
    Charlie blinked. 'Keep backing me for what's left of the season. That should lose you enough.'
    'Hardly!' Gillian laughed again. 'Oh, it's far too complicated to explain – I've got myself into this awful mess. Still, I've got one piece of good news. I've managed to let the Vicarage flat.'
    'Brilliant. So the Weekly News came up trumps. Or did you resort to advertising?'
    'What? In the window of Maureen's Munchy Bar?' Gillian pulled a face. The Munchy Bar was the last-but-one addition to Milton St John's small crescent of shops. 'No, thank goodness. Can you imagine the applicants?'
    'Yeah. Bathsheba Cox spearheading the queue. I hear she's desperate to get her hands on the Vicar.'
    'Don't. Not funny. She's gunning for the boys as it is. She's the witch of the village as far as they're concerned – even more scary than Bronwyn Pugh – and that's saying something ... She certainly doesn't approve of me or them.'
    'So who's your new tenant?' Charlie wasn't particularly interested, but was still pretty keen on inviting Gillian back home for the bottle of red and some mutual shoulder-sobbing, so felt the niceties should be observed.
    'Jennifer – no, Jemima. The owner of the new bookshop.'
    'Oh, boring.' Charlie wasn't convinced Milton St John needed a bookshop. When did anyone in the village ever have time to read a book? Still, it was bound to be managed by some elderly cat-loving spinster. She'd probably be ideal for cocoa-sharing in the Vicarage.
    Gillian snuggled deeper into the cloak. The heat of the day had not lasted past sunset. 'The shop's not opening for ages yet so Jemima's going to be looking for something temporary to keep her going. She's absolutely sweet, Charlie. You'll adore her. It was very clever of you to recommend the local paper. I hope Drew and Maddy are as lucky with their advert for a gardener.'
    'So do I.' Charlie felt the chance to invite Gillian back to the cottage was slipping away. 'Maybe Jessica could do some gardening at Peapods in her spare time?'
    'Jemima!' Gillian corrected with a giggle. 'Just because you hope she looks like that buxom lass on that television garden make-over show. You are totally insatiable. Thank goodness I'm the Vicar's wife or you'd be propositioning me next!'
    'As if ...' Charlie blinked as the doors of the Cat and Fiddle were suddenly thrown wide open, illuminating the Aston Martin in a spotlight of smoky beams. He switched on the ignition. 'If you don't mind I'll make myself scarce. I've got a feeling that they're probably erecting a gibbet in the Snug as we speak.'
    It was nice, he thought as he drove towards the sanctuary of Peapods, to see that Gillian was laughing as she headed for the Vicarage. Laughter, after sex, was his stock in