The Accidental Life of Greg Millar Read Online Free PDF

around, no discipline whatsoever, let them run wild. That’s why Mum has always come down hard on you. Both of you. She thinks that’s what good mothers do. Trust me, Lucy. She only wants what’s best . . .’
    ‘That’s the problem. Nothing else is good enough. Nothing ever will be. I knew she’d have a problem with Greg. She had to. I don’t know why I came.’
    ‘She’s just a worrier, Lucy. Wait till I go back in there. She’ll be all upset. Guarantee you.’
    I sigh.
    ‘How’s the work going?’
    ‘Fine.’
    ‘Good. Look, the main thing is that you’re happy. And you are, aren’t you?’
    ‘For the first time . . . in a long time.’
    He smiles. ‘That is good news. Listen, when it comes to your mother, let it all wash over you. Like I do.’
     

5.
    I t’s our second month anniversary. Not that I’ve told him. I just asked him over. I’m cooking vegetarian curry. Curry, because it’s Greg’s favourite. Vegetarian, because I am one. I’ve gone all out, frying each of the spices from scratch. I’m way behind and hassled when he arrives. I haven’t even changed. He kisses me, lands a bottle of Bollinger down on the counter.
    ‘Happy anniversary, darling,’ he jokes.
    I laugh. ‘Happy anniversary, cupcakes.’ I kiss him and turn back to the cooker.
    ‘Isn’t the guy supposed to call the girl cupcakes?’
    I wink. ‘I live dangerously.’
    ‘Want to read the acknowledgements for A River Too Wide ?’ He pulls them from the back pocket of his jeans and hands them to me.
    ‘Oh, great!’ I put them aside. ‘Let me just get this under con trol first.’
    ‘Here, I’ll do that.’ He takes the wooden spoon from me and starts to stir the sauce. ‘There’s another page when you’re finished with that,’ he says.
    ‘OK.’
    ‘You know what? Just skip to the second page.’
    ‘Why?’
    He winks. ‘Humour me, Luce.’
    There’s something about the way he says it. I hold my breath as I turn the page. Could one of my favourite authors of all time have dedicated a book to me?
    On the page are three words. Marry me, Lucy.
    I freeze.
    He turns and presses into my hand a small, navy velvet box. I kee p my eyes fixed on the box – so I don’t have to meet his.
    ‘Open it,’ he says softly.
    I’m stuck. If I do as he asks, he’ll assume it’s a yes. If I don’t, I’ll have to tell him it’s a no. He’s waiting. I have to do something. So I lift the tiny, resistant lid. Inside is a solitaire in the shape of a triangle . So simple. So special. It couldn’t be more perfect. That he went out on his own and selected this for me and got it so instinctively right breaks my heart, considering what I’m about to do. I lo ok up at him. I don’t want to hurt him. I love him, I reali se.
    ‘What is it?’ he asks.
    ‘Nothing,’ I croak.
    Silence. I can smell the curry starting to burn.
    ‘You don’t want to,’ he says quietly.
    I look down at the ring to avoid answering, but watch in horror as a tear falls, landing splat on the diamond. I worry that the shop won’t take it back.
    ‘You don’t love me.’
    I look into his eyes. ‘I do, Greg. I do love you. But I can’t marry you.’ It’s what I planned with Brendan. It would be like slotting someone else into his place. And I can’t do that. Not now. Maybe not ever. ‘Marriage is such a big step.’
    He puts his hands on my shoulders and looks into my eyes. ‘It’s Brendan, isn’t it?’
    I nod. ‘I’m sorry.’ I close the box, place it on the counter and push it towards him, hating myself for hurting him. That I’m crying doesn’t make it any better. He takes my hands in his, kisses my forehead then pulls me into a hug.
    ‘It’s OK,’ he says, rubbing my back. Then, with a ‘Shit, the dinner ,’ he lets me go, turns, lifts the pan and carries it to the sink. He opens the window and wafts the air. At last, he turns back to me and smiles. ‘So much for that.’
    A wave of love swells inside me. ‘Greg. I’m