Stand-In Wife Read Online Free PDF

Americanisms. “I’m your auntie Viv but you can’t tell anybody. Well, I know you can’t because your mo— mummy says you can only say seven words.”
    She paused but Harry didn’t offer any of them. Stillmaking his mind up about her. “Anyway—” she started to sweat “—I’m sorting a few things out for your mummy so go easy on me. And I’m definitely going to need your help with Salsa.”
    Harry stirred. “Dog?”
    “Yes,” she said, relieved she’d found the magic word. “We’ll go home and see the maniac dog…this diaper’s awfully warm and saggy. I’m guessing it needs changing?”
    He wriggled to get down. “Dog.”
    “I’m willing to put it off if you are.” She let him go, picked up the diaper bag and the tiny shoes. It hit her then that Linda had taken them off. Viv took a shaky breath, then knelt beside Harry who was tugging on the door handle. “Can I have a hug first?”
    Harry wrapped his skinny arms around her neck and planted a sloppy wet kiss on her cheek, obviously well trained. Of course Merry played this trick, too. They’d been brought up by the same emotional blackmailer and split from the same egg. She could do this. Viv turned the handle. Harry trotted ahead to the stairs, spun around and started sliding down on his belly.
    Was the blood still in the hall? She broke into a run, taking the stairs two at a time, the diaper bag bouncing off her shoulder. At the bottom, Ross turned, holding a mop. Casually shoving it aside, he picked up their nephew. “Hey, mate, where’s the fire?”
    He needed a hug, too. She could see it in the way he enveloped the baby, buried his nose into the tiny shoulder. Glancing up, his eyes met hers.
    It had been an especially cold winter in New York when his life had hung in the balance. Viv had spent most of it huddled over the radiator in her tiny apartment, sketching costumes for a charity production off Broadway and telling herself she had no right to care as much as she did.
    Her relief when he’d pulled through had been disproportionate to their brief acquaintance.
    Abruptly he handed her Harry.
    “Your son’s diaper needs changing.”

CHAPTER FOUR
    R OSS ITCHED TO TAKE HIS sister-in-law to task for telling the cops he was SAS but the presence of his nephew stopped him. He reminded himself he had more important priorities. Like telling Charlie his mother was dead.
    Holy crap, he needed a drink. Heading to the liquor cabinet in the lounge, he poured a finger of whiskey into a crystal tumbler. Despite his father’s efforts, this place had never been home. Even now, with Linda beyond caring, Ross felt like a trespasser. Behind him, he heard the diaper bag hit the carpet. Harry on her hip, Meredith held out a hand. “Oh, God, yes, please.”
    Passing his glass over, he poured himself another. Harry made a grab for his mother’s tumbler and Ross distracted him with a shiny stainless-steel cocktail measure.
    Meredith raised her glass. “To Linda,” she said with a faint tremor in her voice.
    Ross wouldn’t be a hypocrite so he simply chinked glasses. They tossed back their drinks in one gulp. “I owe you an apology,” he said, while the whiskey was still a smoky afterburn on his tongue. Might as well get this over with. “For venting on you after an argument with Linda.” Though come to think of it, Meredith had given as good as she got.
    “She was angry but not clutching her chest or anything when I arrived,” she offered, putting her empty glass on the cabinet. “In case you were feeling guilty.”
    He glanced at where the picture used to hang and resisted the temptation to pour another shot. He had caused Linda’s fall—indirectly. Cleaning up he hadn’t seen the sampler; it didn’t matter. Ross never wanted to set eyes on it again.
    Because of the sampler, his brother would suffer losing his mum and Ross would suffer for him. In the saddest of ways, Linda had had the last word.
    Steeling himself, Ross pulled out his