No Place For a Man Read Online Free PDF Page A

somehow they would work their way into being real. She hoped she hadn’t pushed the fates too far – chances were now that she’d started talking to Claire about him he might just disappear and never come back.
    ‘Well,’ she hesitated, recalling what she’d actually seen of him in the dusky half-light. ‘He’s quite tall, though it’s hard to tell when you’re looking down at someone. He’s got dark hair and it’s a bit long, too long, like he used to have a good cut once but he’s let it grow.’
    ‘What was he wearing?’ Claire cut to the all-important question. Natasha hesitated again. Claire was the sharpest-edged fashion-observer of their year. There were girls who wouldn’t even go near Top Shopfor a simple pair of trousers without feeling they should run the various options past Claire first for approval. ‘Not combats !’ she’d shrieked when Polly Mathers had talked about what she’d worn to a party a couple of weeks before. ‘Combats are so dead!’ Natasha might be pretty much up there with the knowledge about what she should be wearing but didn’t really have much of a clue about what the coolest clothes were that blokes could select. Oliver had been no use as a guide – when he’d started saving up for Australia he’d got a job in the Gap and worn nothing but staff-discount sale stock. Claire had sneered that he looked like a keen, clean business studies student, quite beneath interest. Natasha hadn’t dared tell her she’d liked (and borrowed) several of his sweaters.
    ‘Er … well I couldn’t really see too clearly. It’s a long way down,’ she said eventually.
    ‘It’s not that far. Shoes then … Nikes, Cats, what?’ Claire twiddled the ends of her perfect striped-blond chin-length hair, checking for highly unlikely split ends.
    ‘Definitely couldn’t see shoes. And I don’t care about shoes anyway.’ Claire gasped at the near-sacrilege and Natasha laughed. ‘Come on Claire, even you wouldn’t reject the perfect boy just because his shoes were the wrong make!’
    Claire wrinkled her freckled nose. ‘Well he wouldn’t be the perfect boy with the wrong shoes, would he? Beyond considering. So go on, when are you seeing him again? Tonight?’
    ‘Possibly. Hope so anyway.’ Natasha said it slowly, crossing her fingers with the wish that it might be true. ‘He didn’t actually say.’ She felt more confident now that she was back on the truth-track. ‘But I’ll look out for him and, well, who knows.’
    Claire’s face screwed up in puzzlement. ‘One thing though, what’s he doing hanging about on the railway line? Is he suicidal but doesn’t dare …’
    ‘Jeez, I hope not. Romance shattered before it starts.’
    ‘ … Or has he got no home to go to? Where is he living, do you think?’
    ‘I don’t know. But I’ve got to find out. He’s not like, well …’
    ‘Yeah I know …’ Claire laughed. ‘The saddo tossers from St Dominic’s who think they can impress their way into your knickers by waffling on about A-level options and their mummy’s ski lodge in Verbier.’
    ‘Exactly. This one’s …’
    ‘An exciting bit of forbidden rough.’ Claire leaned forward and whispered it, sounding harsh and strangely lascivious – as well as deeply envious. The thought made Natasha shiver – whoever he was, the railway boy definitely had an air of being someone who was, well, off limits in all senses.
    ‘OK, I’m ready for the interrogation now.’ Matthew presented himself, showered and dressed, next to Jess’s desk just as she was pressing the ‘send’ button to deliver Nelson’s Column to the Sunday Gazette .
    ‘Where do you fancy for lunch? Shall we see if there’s room at the River Café? We could go mad, get a cab …’
    Jess laughed. ‘You are joking aren’t you? I thought we could just have a sandwich, here. That’s what I usually do. I had no idea your working day was quite so glamorous.’
    Matt shrugged. ‘It isn’t, wasn’t , I