Love and Devotion Read Online Free PDF

them. All these things made her reluctant to throw in her lot with anyone on a more permanent basis.
    The only person she came close to sharing her life with had been Felicity, and quite naturally it was her sister to whom she turned for advice about Spencer. ‘Am I being stupid?’ she’d asked Felicity.
    Expecting her sister to urge her to throw caution to the wind, as she so often did, she had been surprised when Felicity had said, ‘If you have to ask the question, then you’re clearly not ready for such a step.’
    Perversely, Harriet then tried to prove to herself that she was ready for such a step. She systematically listed everything that she liked about Spencer - his clear-cut way of thinking, his steadiness, his understanding and appreciation that she needed her own space - and gradually some of the fear crept to the furthest reaches of her mind.
    But then Felicity died and everything changed.
    Spencer was the first person she told about her decision to hand in her notice and move back to Cheshire. They were in his flat when she broached the subject. He was cooking one of his messy meals - every pot, pan and mixing bowl had been used. ‘Aren’t you surprised?’ she’d said when he hardly reacted.
    ‘Sorry, Harriet, but I saw it coming. It was obvious.’
    Never afraid to confront an issue, she said, ‘It’s going to change things between us, isn’t it?’
    He’d stopped what he was doing and put a hand on her shoulder. ‘Let’s save the crystal ball-gazing for the end-of-the-pier crowd, shall we? For now, you’ve got more than enough on your plate without worrying about us. We’ll find a way.’
    But she did worry. And it annoyed her that she did. Being needy had never been on her personal agenda.
     
    It was ages before Spencer answered his mobile. Time enough for paranoia to set in. Was he trying to avoid her?
    ‘Hi there, Harriet. How’s it going?’ The sound of his voice, so easy, so assured, chased away the doubts.
    ‘Not bad,’ she said, ‘all things considered.’ She wanted to explain what she’d spent the morning doing, but couldn’t be bothered. Would he be interested, anyway? Other people’s problems were exactly that. Other people’s. Given the choice, wouldn’t she rather cross the road than risk being contaminated by grief? Keeping the conversation light, she asked him about work. ‘Anything new to report?’
    ‘I haven’t been back long enough to know the full ins and outs, but there’s a bit of flapping going on over some new contract or other.’
    She felt the pinch of isolation, of not being a part of things. It was hard to accept they were all carrying on without her. Harder still to think of anyone new occupying her old office. ‘What contract would that be?’ she asked.
    ‘Too boring to discuss. Tell me what you’ve been doing.’
    ‘No,’ she said, realising that she hadn’t asked him about his holiday, ‘tell me how South Africa was. Did you send me a postcard?’
    They discussed his trip and then, because they seemed to be running out of things to say, she told him about packing up the remainder of Felicity’s stuff. She mentioned that she’d kept some of her sister’s clothes and things as keepsakes.
    He groaned. ‘Wouldn’t it be easier just to ditch the lot? It sounds kind of macabre, wanting to keep anything your sister wore.’
    Anger flared. And just what the hell would you know about it! she wanted to shout at him. But she kept her voice level. ‘It’s more complicated than that. There’s stuff I’ve put aside for the children; they need to be able to remember their parents. When they’re older, they can look through the selection I’ve made and perhaps piece together the memories.’
    ‘Yeah, I can see that would be a good idea. Look, I can’t chat for long, but are you still coming down tomorrow?’
    ‘Of course. Why do you ask?’
    She caught the sound of background noise, of someone calling to him. When he didn’t answer her