Some Kind of Fairy Tale Read Online Free PDF Page A

down her own throat. Genevieve was still trapped by Tara’s fingers resting lightly on her face. At last Tara dropped her hands and leaned in to press her lips to Genevieve’s cheek.
    “Let me take your coat,” Genevieve said.
    “So this is Zoe,” Peter said. “And here is Jack, and Amber and Josie.”
    “Hi, Zoe. Hi, Jack. Hi, Amber. Hi, Josie. I’m Tara.”
    “We already know that,” Josie said haughtily.
    Tara turned her smile on Josie, who instantly retreated behind the living room door.
    “Why do you wear dark glasses?” Amber said, reasonably.
    “I have something wrong with my eyes,” Tara said, and Amber seemed satisfied with that.
    Genevieve ushered Tara through to the living room and waved Mary and Dell through after her.
    “She’s tiny!” Gen whispered to Peter. “And so young-looking!”
    The next hour was taken up with the unwrapping of Mary and Dell’s gifts and the merciful small talk that went with it. Tara helped Josie get her package open and congratulated Jack on his ratting, since, she said, she hated rats. She complimented Zoe on her taste in clothes, and when Amber struggled to button up the new dressing gown her grandmother had brought for her she got down on her knees and buttoned it.
    Though the kids all seemed to regard Tara as something akin to a unicorn, she easily charmed them. Peter noted how naturally she did that. It was always thus, he remembered. Though no one else but himself and his parents—plus Richie occasionally—saw the moods that sometimes stood in counterpoint to that effortless ability. Yes, but there’s a shadow, he wanted to tell everyone.
    She’d scrubbed up well, too. He didn’t know how long she’d spent in the bath but she’d come up looking pink as a peeled prawn. All the grime had been washed away. Her hair had recovered its waves, and its chestnut sheen was there for all to admire as she tossed her head like a pony. The dirt had been scraped from under her fingernails. She used no cosmetics at all and her complexion was flawless.
    She looked very good, and healthy enough, though a little tired. It was just that Peter knew that only someone barking mad would leave home without a word and then wash up at the door two decades later.
    “I made a cake,” Genevieve said, jumping out of her chair.
    “I’ll help you,” Tara said.
    Peter saw an opportunity to talk. “I’ll come through, too.”
    Tara gently pushed him back into his seat. “Stay there, big brother. I want to bring you cake.”
    He didn’t know whether to resist. A glance from Genevieve told him to stay put.
    “HE HATES ME NOW,” Tara said, as Genevieve drew a big knife through her chocolate cake.
    “He’s confused, hurt, angry, puzzled, baffled, and above all he’s been told he can’t ask you any questions. But I know he still loves you.”
    “How do you know that?”
    Genevieve sucked a sliver of cake from her thumb. “If he didn’t love you, he wouldn’t give a damn about any of it.”
    “Not only did I know he’d find someone beautiful, I knew he’d find someone very smart.”
    Genevieve took a step toward Tara. “You seem very nice to me. I think it’s a time for honesty, not charm.”
    “That’s fair. Very fair. I will talk and I will be honest. Right now I’m just trying to find a way to explain what happened. It’s not as easy as you think. For one thing, when I tell him the truth he won’t believe me and he will hate me even more than he does now. He’ll despise me.”
    “I know him, and I know he won’t despise you, whatever it is.”
    “Oh, yes he will. And you will, too. Though you may turn out to be my best hope. It’s certainly not something I can tell Mum and Dad. In fact, I wouldn’t even bother telling anyone, not a soul, except that certain people deserve to hear the truth, whether they believe it or not.”
    “Tara, I haven’t the faintest idea of what you are talking about.”
    “Do you know his friend Richie?”
    “I’ve never met