Love Letters Read Online Free PDF Page A

mark than I did, though.’
    ‘They used you!’ Grant was indignant.
    ‘No. Well, a bit, but I didn’t mind. And as I said, they did drag me out from time to time. We had a lot of fun together. I just mostly preferred to stay in and read than shout myself hoarse at a lot of drunk people.’
    ‘What about boyfriends?’
    ‘There were a few. They never really came to anything. Grant, I’m sure we’ve been through all this when I first came to the bookshop and you gave me your standard interrogation.’
    ‘Maybe, but it was obviously all so boring I’ve forgotten. And I don’t interrogate people. I’m just interested in the human condition.’
    ‘You mean nosy.’
    ‘Well, OK, nosy. Now let’s look in here.’ He pulled open the door of her small wardrobe, expecting the worst. ‘Laura, are all your clothes black or white?’
    ‘Pretty much. I’ve got my summer clothes in a plastic bag somewhere. Here.’ She withdrew it from the bottom of the wardrobe. Grant emptied it on to the floor as if he were sorting laundry.
    ‘You should really let me come round and go through all this for you,’ he muttered, tossing garments behind him like a picky burglar.
    ‘I would if you were more like that Gok person.’
    He stopped. ‘I thought you never watched television!’
    She laughed, pleased by his surprise. ‘I don’t but I went round to one of the book group women with a copy of that month’s book and she had it on. She persuaded me to stay and watch it. Very brave, all those women. Fancy sitting in a shop window naked?’
    ‘I can think of worse fates actually, but I can see for you it would be torture.’
    In the end he found a tiered bo-ho skirt in cream broderie anglaise, a black V-necked cardigan and a tight black belt. ‘It’s quite sweet but still very monochrome,’ he said. ‘Where’s your jewellery?’
    Laura opened her dressing-table drawer and revealed her few bits and pieces, mostly presents from university friends, and a pearl necklace left to her by an aunt. Grant sorted through it dismissively.
    ‘What about scarves, belts, things like that?’
    They were stuffed in with her knickers but he rifled through them until he found a scarf that had been round a sun hat Laura had bought through necessity, the last time she’d been on holiday with her parents, several years ago.
    ‘Here.’ He tied it round her neck. ‘It looks nice, but your hair needs to be in a higher ponytail. And it needs an iron.’
    ‘What, my hair? I know, the trouble is straightening it—’
    ‘Not your hair! I like that curly, frizzy look, it’s cute. No, I meant your skirt! Have you got an iron?’
    She nodded, and put on a smug expression. ‘Another reason I had friends in my student house was I had an iron and knew how to use it.’
    ‘No wonder you won Miss Congeniality three years in a row.’
    Laura giggled. ‘How do you know I didn’t? I was popular. Sometimes people prefer someone who’s a bit quieter.’
    ‘Who could iron.’
    Aware she wasn’t going to convince Grant that her university days weren’t spent reading and ironing her friends’ clothes, or if they were, she’d really enjoyed them, she said, ‘My mother used to get me to do all the ironing.’
    ‘It’s a useful skill,’ he said, refusing to be sympathetic to this potential tale of childhood cruelty. ‘I’ll do it while you do your hair.’
    ‘You’re terribly bossy,’ Laura objected, getting out the ironing board.
    ‘I know. It’s why I’m the manager of the shop and you’re not.’
    ‘I’m not sure having one full-time assistant and a couple of part-timers makes you the head of a vast empire . . .’
    ‘Of course it does. Now hurry up, we don’t want to miss the first set.’
    Laura’s efforts with her hair meant that while the bulk of it was in a fifties-style ponytail, there was still a lot of stray hairs, giving her a dark gold aura round her head. ‘It’s not very tidy.’
    ‘It’s not supposed to be tidy!