Learning to Dance Read Online Free PDF

into it. She sank into its depths. He sank into the opposite corner and watched her.
    ‘Thank you so much, Mr Hausmann. I was becoming just slightly frantic.’
    ‘You hid it well. The first person, apart from myself, to position the bowl in time.’
    ‘This is a regular thing?’
    ‘Pretty much. Where have you hidden it?’
    ‘The bowl? Where I found it, under the counter.’
    ‘I’ll see to it.’
    He stood up and she held out a restraining hand. ‘Could you also find some kind of master key so that I can go back to bed?’
    ‘You asked me before. I’ll look. Can’t promise. They hide it, you know. Bart and Irena. I went into their room when I lost my key and they were rather annoyed.’
    ‘Oh dear.’
    ‘No need for sarcasm. He is my brother.’ He was in the doorway and he turned for his final excuse. ‘We were pretty close at one time. Then he got married. I don’t think Irena likes me.’
    Judith twisted to look at him over the back of the sofa. He no longer resembled something the cat had brought in. His hair had dried and was a mass of grey curls, and his face fell in leathery folds like a schnauzer’s. His eyes were buried deep and seemed to burn for a moment.
    He appeared to be waiting for her to comment on his last remark. Brothers. She knew about brothers because of Toby and Matt. She had met Jack’s brother, Len, on only a few occasions but had liked him instantly. She was thankful that he was nothing like Robert Hausmann.
    She said starkly, ‘No.’
    He shrugged and disappeared towards the counter, and she put her feet up and lay on her side looking at the pretend flames and feeling warm at last. She heard him in the cloakroom; he used a lot of water. Then he came out and was at the counter again, so he had to be looking for that precious key. Then a door closed and there was total silence. She glanced at the clock on the mantelpiece. Four thirty. And it had been three o’clock when she had emerged from the bathroom.
    She thought disgustedly that he wasn’t coming back. She snuggled down and went to sleep.
    When she woke it was fully light and the first thing she saw was a tray on the floor just beneath her. It contained a mug of brown liquid with skin on the top and an enormous roll, cheese protruding from it, a dab of some kind of pickle sitting on top. Lying between the mug and the cheese roll was a key.
    Beyond the tray the fire still flickered, and looking around and into the foyer she could see the lights were still on. Worse, somewhere above her, the lift clicked into use.
    She had not moved so quickly for a long time. The throw dropped off her as she leapt from the sofa. She picked it up and flung it over the armchair, snatched up the tray and ran across the foyer to put it beneath the counter – the bowl was there, pristine. She clutched the key, darted round to the stairs and began to take them, two, three at a time. Her legs might be short but they were strong, and she passed the lift at the first floor. The key slid into her lock without difficulty. She was inside, panting, her back to the door. She dived into bed, put the key under her pillow and closed her eyes.
    Half an hour later, when her paper and tea arrived, she opened the door wearing her dressing gown and smiling.
    ‘Good morning!’ The woman lifted a tray off the top of the trolley. She was not the housekeeper from yesterday. ‘I’m Irena Mann and I welcome you to Castle Dove! I hope you have had a good night?’
    ‘I’ve slept like a top!’ Judith took the tray and put it on the bedside table, then held out her hand. ‘I understand you are Robert Hausmann’s sister-in-law?’
    The woman was taken aback. ‘I am, but we never mention it. In fact, I persuaded my husband to chop off the front of our name so that we could not be associated with him.’ She shook her head. ‘Sorry. It is one of those family things. We do our best – this exhibition, for instance.’ Her smile widened painfully. ‘We do hope you