Love Always Read Online Free PDF

visible beyond my dark hair and olive skin, thanks to a mother who uses it in a lazy cross-cultural way when she wants to show off, and thanks to a father who I assume is white, although who knows? Whereas Jay goes the other way, the reverse of me. He is almost wholly Indian, and slips easily back into that culture, thanks to Sameena, then back into the world of Summercove, as if he’s changing from one pair of comfortable shoes to another. I envy him that ability, and I love him for it.
    Jay is waving back at his father. ‘Look at him,’ he says, as Archie sneaks a look at his reflection in the car window, staring intently at himself for a brief second. ‘He’s looking more and more like Alan Whicker every day. Hey, Dad,’ he says.
    ‘Aha, Natasha, my dear.’ Archie hugs me enthusiastically, gripping my shoulders. His moustache tickles my face as always and I have to tell myself not to shrink away. ‘It’s wonderful to see you. Jay. Son.’ He gives his son a walloping great slap on the back. Jay rocks back against me.
    ‘I’m sorry about Granny,’ I tell him. ‘I am too,’ Archie says soberly. ‘I am too.’ He scratches the bridge of his nose vigorously, suddenly, and turns away. ‘Let’s be off.’ His hand is on the boot of the car. ‘Bags?’
    ‘No bags,’ I say.
    Archie looks at me as if I’m insane. ‘No bags? Where are your things?’
    I take a deep breath. ‘I can’t stay tonight, unfortunately,’ I say.
    He stares at me. ‘Not staying? Does your mother know? That’s crazy, Natasha.’
    ‘I know,’ I say, trying to sound calm, collected. ‘I’m really sorry, but I’ve got a meeting tomorrow I can’t get out of.’ I wish I could tell them why. But I can’t. They mustn’t know, not yet.
    ‘I should have thought . . .’ Archie mutters, trailing off. Jay, who is watching me intently, jumps in.
    ‘The sleeper’s much better and if you have to get back for a meeting, there it is.’ His father frowns at him, opens his mouth to say something, but Jay presses on. ‘Come on, Nat,’ he says, slinging his rucksack into the boot. ‘We’re cutting it fine anyway, aren’t we? Let’s go.’
    Suddenly, I remember Octavia and Julius. ‘I saw Octavia and Julius on the train. I mean, think I saw them,’ I amend. ‘Should we—’
    ‘Oh,’ Archie says, ruffled, he hates any interruption to his plans, to being told what to do by anyone except my mother. And indeed, our cousins are emerging from the station and looking around. ‘I’m sure they’ll have made their own arrangements . . .’
    But they haven’t, it turns out. Octavia and Julius are the kind of ruthlessly efficient people who expect others to be at their beck and call. They’re like the answers to those survival guide questions: both of them could survive on a raft floating on the Indian Ocean with only a mirror and a comb for days, I’m sure. But they’d never think of getting round to booking a car or a taxi. They assume that someone else will have got the train down too and will furnish them with a lift. And they assume rightly, of course.
    ‘I must say, it’s extremely strange we didn’t bump into either of you on the train,’ Octavia says, as Archie drives off along the harbour. ‘I suppose you two were sitting together.’ She makes it sound as if we were planning a high-school shooting.
    ‘No,’ Jay says simply. ‘Meeting you all is a lovely surprise on this sad day.’
    ‘Jolly sad. So,’ Julius, already red in the face, looking more than ever like a fatter, less patrician version of Frank, his father, asks, ‘what’s the order of things today? Straight to the church? Or nosh first?’
    Squashed next to Octavia in the back of the car, Jay and I dare not exchange looks. It’s as though we’re children again.
    ‘Hrrr.’ Archie clears his throat, self-importantly. ‘The funeral is at two, so we’re going straight to the church,’ he says. ‘Don’t have time to stop off beforehand and we