Robyn Donald – Iceberg Read Online Free PDF

the strange bed. When Linnet woke the next morning the flat was eerily silent. A
    note on the table told her why.
    'I leave at 7.30,' Bronwyn had written. 'Help yourself to food. Have you any money? If not, ten dollars in the
    back pages of telephone directory. Go-to shops and get tomatoes, vegetables and soap powder. B.'
    Short and to the point. Peremptory, even. But atleast she wouldn't feel quite so much that she was trespassing on
    Bronwyn 's hospitality if she did a few messages for her.
    It was a warm morning, the sun high enough in the sky to tell her that she had slept late. Trying to work out
    whether daylight saving made it earlier or later than the sun suggested, she squeezed yellow-orange tangeloes
    for juice, poached the last egg and made toast, discovering from her perusal of the pantry that Bronwyn seemed
    to live on gourmet foods like tinned artichoke hearts or plain cottage cheese. Nothing in between. No doubt she
    ate sparingly to keep that wonderful figure, and used the exotics to whip up meals for guests. But surely she ate
    more than cottage cheese.
    The butter from the refrigerator was rock-hard, bat it melted immediately. Linnet wiped a drip from the cotton
    housecoat with a cloth, deciding act to change into clothes until after she had eaten. Jennifer had loathed
    'slopping around' as she called it, so it added a sinful edge of pleasure to the morning to be still in her housecoat.
    As she ate with her customary excellent appetite she allowed her eyes to roam, wondering why Bronwyn had
    not cared to express any of her personality in this place. It was as bare of character as any motel room neat,
    clean, quite lacking in individuality; It was odd, for Bronwyn was creative and had style; perhaps Stewart Doyle
    was right when he said that she thought of the flat as a mere fill-in until she married Justin.
    The thought of Justin gave her a cold shudder. Pushing the memory of his presence in the flat last night from
    her mind, she carried her dishes to the sink, poured a cup of coffee and sat herself down again at the small table
    in the window which caught the morning sun. It was cooler than it had been the day before, but the sun blazed
    cheerfully in, gilding the small patch of grass outside, warming the colours of the Sweet Williams and alyssums
    and irises in a bed along the wall which separated; the flat from next door.
    The radio surprised her with the call of a bird; a riroriro or little grey warbler, so the announcer told her. It was
    an amusing way to announce the news and the time, and as Linnet had recognised it she began to feel more at
    home in the country of her birth. The coffee was delicious, the pleasant scent of it stronger by far than that from
    several roses in a .vase on the breakfast bar.
    It was unfortunate for her peace of mind that the bell should ring. With a harassed glance at her housecoat and
    the thought that if people were going to make a habit of catching her is undress she would have to climb into
    clothes first thing in the morning, she went across and without opening called out, 'Who is it?’
    ‘Justin Doyle.'
    'Wait a-moment, I'll------'
    'I can't wait,’ he interrupted curtly, I’m in a hurry.'
    Well, the housecoat was not in the least transparent. Shrugging, she opened the door, hoping that her too
    expressive countenance didn't reveal the emotions he aroused in her.
    'Come in,' she invited politely, leading the way into the sitting room. 'I'm afraid Bronwyn's already at work.'
    'I know. It's you I want to see.'
    'Oh.' For the life of her she could think of nothing more sensible to say and he was not helping in the least,
    looking at her as if she was something rather nasty from under a stone. 'Would you like to sit down?'
    ‘I won't be here for long.' He walked across to the window, stood with his back to it so that she couldn't really
    see his features and went on crisply, 'Exactly how long do you plan to stay here?'
    Equally crisply she returned, 'Until I find a