Someone to Watch Over Me Read Online Free PDF

her against the wall and she wrapped her legs around his waist while he thrust hard into her until she cried out so loudly he had to put his hand over her mouth to stop the people in the next room from hearing. Fiercely private, he hated the thought that anyone else might know what they were doing. She stood in the shower whilst he knelt in front of her and washed slowly between her legs, his hands slippery with soap that smelt of honey, the warm water soothing against her back where the skin had been grazed by the uneven plaster on the wall. They went to Gubbio and took a swaying funicular up the mountain to the Abbey of Saint Ubaldo. She pretended that she was more scared than she really was of the sloping hillside beneath their caged feet so that he would hold her close and put his hand into her shirt to distract her, his clever fingers slipping through the cotton and plucking at her nipple. Above the Abbey, the evening landscape spread out, perfectly composed, just for them, and she wondered how she could ever think that she was anything other than completely happy.
    Molly heard Max’s feet padding across the landing floor and a quick glance at the clock showed that she had been lying in a stupor for some time. She felt a fizzing in her arms and hands that she recognised as a reaction to shock or fear; the unexpected lurch against her shoulder by a stranger on the edge of a train station platform, the sudden sound of beating wings rising up from a still hedgerow. The door creaked open and Max’s head poked cautiously around the frame.
    â€˜Are you awake yet?’ he said hopefully, his teeth chattering, his arms clutching his chest. In reply, Molly pulled back the blankets and he ran and jumped into the warm patch by her side.

Chapter Five
    He wasn’t in the sea. It was the first place Carrie looked, scanning the water for his head, looking out to the very edge of the horizon that suddenly seemed even further away than it had earlier in the day. She ran along the beach, occasionally stopping and asking people if they had seen a small boy in yellow shorts. They shook their heads and got up and looked around too. Most of them parents themselves, they knew from her face what she was feeling. They said things like; ‘He’ll turn up,’ and, ‘Where shall I say you are if I see him?’ but she barely listened. She stumbled on the sand, breathless, desperate already. She saw the boy who had played with Charlie earlier walking back across the beach and she ran up to him. ‘Have you seen my boy?’ she asked him. He shook his head and walked on, hands in the pockets of his shorts.
    The tide had come in and the sun gleamed on the sea. The dazzling light and panic filled Carrie’s head like static. She ran backwards and forwards, into the shallows and then up the beach again, searching the dunes for small hollows in which Charlie might be hiding. The desire to see the familiar shape of him was so intense it made her whimper. Maybe he was playing a game. She remembered how the year before he had crawled into a cupboard in a holiday caravan and fallen asleep. When they had found him he had a crescent-shaped mark across his cheek where his face had rested on the edge of a plate. He liked small spaces. Perhaps he had found his way into the old lookout post further along from where they had been sitting. Carrie ran to the concrete bunker and looked through the slotted aperture. At first she couldn’t see anything but a small shape in the corner. Then her eyes grew accustomed to the dark and she saw it was nothing but a heap of abandoned clothes. She ran to where Damian was standing, still scanning the beach.
    â€˜I can’t find him,’ said Carrie, grabbing Damian’s arm and holding on to it.
    â€˜Where did you last see him? How long ago?’ asked Damian.
    â€˜Where we were sitting. I’m not sure. Not long. I’m sure it hasn’t been long.’ She could