Miranda's Big Mistake Read Online Free PDF Page A

superstitiously, there was a chance it could somehow sort itself out, be magically resolved.
    It didn’t seem likely, she had to admit. But you never knew, miracles did happen.
    The other reason she was reluctant to tell Bruce was…well, her job.
    He was her employer, and if Greg did leave her, she was going to need, rather badly, to stay employed.
    Chloe couldn’t help wondering how a man who disapproved of women spending more than thirty seconds in the loo was likely to react to the idea of time off for OBGYN appointments, visits to the doctor, maybe a whole day off to actually give birth…
    No, no, safer all round to keep this kind of news from him, Chloe thought with a shudder.
    For the time being, at least.
    ***
    She felt doubly guilty on Friday morning when Bruce came into the shop carrying a box from the patisserie around the corner.
    â€˜You’re not eating properly,’ he told her, dumping the box on the counter. ‘This dieting business doesn’t suit you. Here, I picked us up a couple of coffee éclairs.’
    Even a fortnight ago, the prospect of a coffee éclair at nine o’clock in the morning would have made her feel sick. Now, gazing lovingly at them, Chloe realized that she was so ravenous she could eat not only both éclairs but the box as well.
    â€˜That’s really kind.’
    Does he seriously think I’m looking terrible because I’m on a diet?
    â€˜Got something else for you too.’ Digging in his inside pocket, Bruce pulled out a gilt-edged invitation. ‘My mother sent it to us. Some charity bash in Belgravia. Sounds pretty good, but we’ve made other arrangements for that night—it’s our wedding anniversary—so I thought you and Greg could give it a try. Might perk you up a bit.’
    â€˜Lovely.’ Dutifully, Chloe studied the invitation. Right now the only thing capable of perking her up would be a husband with a brain transplant.
    â€˜Lots of famous people going.’ In case she’d forgotten how to read, Bruce leaned over and pointed to the list of names. ‘Wayne Peterson, the footballer. Caroline Newman, she’s the one who does that holiday program. And Daisy Schofield…’ He hesitated. The name was familiar but he couldn’t place it.
    â€˜Australian model, sings a bit. And she’s acted in a couple of films,’ said Chloe. Greg had something of a crush on Daisy Schofield, so she was in a position to know.
    â€˜Well, should be fun.’ Bruce gave her an encouraging wink. ‘No getting yourself chatted up by Wayne Peterson, mind. He’s a good-looking chap.’
    Oh yes, highly likely, thought Chloe. The moment Wayne Peterson claps eyes on me, that’ll be it, no question.
    Bowled over.
    Literally, she decided with a rueful smile, if I carry on eating at this rate.
    ***
    Greg waited until Chloe had left for work the next morning before hauling the suitcases out from under the stairs.
    Doing it this way might seem unkind, but he didn’t mean to be. It would just be far more upsetting for Chloe, he knew, to be there watching him pack.
    Easier all round to clear his things out while she was out.
    Was that so cruel?
    It didn’t take him long to fill four suitcases; he wasn’t making off with the household appliances, only clothes and a few CDs.
    Forty minutes later, Greg took a last tour around the living room. Not the happiest day of his life, but he’d survive.
    None of this is my fault, he told himself, imagining Chloe’s reaction when she came home at five thirty and found his note. It really isn’t my fault, though. Chloe knew the rules and she broke them. How can I be to blame when she forced me into this?
    He looked at the clock on the mantelpiece. It had been a wedding present from his grandmother, but he wouldn’t take it with him. He wasn’t a bastard, for one thing. This might be the end of the road for himself and Chloe but that