The Betrayal Read Online Free PDF

keep a dream going but he’s managed it.’
    ‘Twenty-five years?’
    ‘Since we did our first gig.’
    ‘You should do a reunion gig.’ She twirled the cocktail umbrella one last time and placed it back in the glass, signalled to the barman for a refill. ‘Think how wonderful that would be. All those fans dying for an excuse to organise babysitters and relive their youth. You owe it to them.’
    He shook his head. ‘It’s a wonderful idea but impossible. I’ve more than enough going on in my life at the moment.’
    ‘Be warned, Jake Saunders. To squander our creativity is to displease the gods. Nothing is impossible if we decide otherwise.’ She trailed her middle finger lightly along the back of his hand. ‘Will you tell Nadine we met tonight?’
    ‘I suspect not…’
    ‘Don’t you think she’d understand? Two old friends catching up on the past.’
    ‘Is that what tonight is?’ His skin tingled at her touch, the slow, deliberate stroke that was almost an itch and the urge to draw her hand downwards, not to tease but to hold him, the hard width of him, aroused and wanting, blinded him to everything that was going on around them.
    ‘It’s whatever you want it to be,’ she said. ‘Like that night in Barney’s Bar. Do you remember?’ She paused and waited for him to fill the silence.
    ‘Yes, I remember.’ The shock of that memory jolted him from his fantasy. ‘It must have been a heartbreaking time for you.’
    ‘I’m talking about us , Jake,’ she interrupted him, her voice quickening. ‘Just the two of us together in that little snug. Things could have been so different, if only…’ Her features tautened as if she, like him, was picturing the small harbour bar in Monsheelagh, its whitewashed walls and black wooden beams. Noisy, smoky, crowded with jostling young people who had come from the holiday homes and caravans to hear the band. He had signed his name on her honey-tanned skin and she had kissed him for good luck in the tiny, old-fashioned snug before the gig began. Later, she had stepped onto the makeshift stage and lifted a tambourine from one of the amplifiers. Nothing waifish about her then as she raised it above her head, her slight body swaying, the swing of her long, blonde hair…and afterwards when everything fell apart, the panic she must she have felt as the storm raged around her.
    He stared at their empty cocktail glasses, a smear of lipstick on hers. She had been drinking that night too. She was only fifteen then. Reedy, who was the eldest of the five band members, had ordered a vodka at her insistence and smuggled it into the snug. It was probably her first time drinking. No wonder she was so frenzied when she climbed onto the stage.
    ‘A last one for the road?’ He nodded towards their glasses but she shook her head.
    ‘Don’t let your dreams die, Jake,’ she whispered into his ear. ‘It can happen so easily. We have to fight to walk our own path. Think about that reunion gig. A Shard retrospective.’ She draped her pashmina over her shoulders. The deep blue weave matched the colour of her eyes and the trimming of silver thread glinted under the overhanging chandeliers. ‘But we’ve talked enough for one night. It’s time you took me home.’
    Outside the restaurant she hailed a cab. They were silent on the short ride to her apartment. It was as she had described, brownstone, high steps, a fire escape jutting over the entrance. She opened her bag and removed a key. Her pashmina slipped from one shoulder, exposing the depth of her cleavage, the smooth length of her arm.
    ‘I’d invite you up for a nightcap but this is not the right time,’ she said. ‘You’ve a lot on your mind and an early flight to catch in the morning.’
    ‘You’re very astute,’ he said. ‘Work’s tough at the moment. I’m sorry it showed.’
    ‘It didn’t.’ She stretched upwards and kissed his cheek. ‘Thank you for a wonderful night, Jake.’
    He took the cab back to his