The Gift of Shame Read Online Free PDF Page A

at it. When had she picked that up?
    His imminent arrival left little time to tidy herself or the apartment. Refusing to listen to the inner voice which plaintively reminded her that she had intended telling him she didn’t want to see him, she flew about the flat and made some attempt at presentability.
    The street door buzzed and, picking up the entryphone, she saw his monotone image, making him look like something from an old newsreel. If she were going to turn him away then this was the moment to do it. All she had to do was tell him he wasn’t coming in and then not open the door. She was about to do just that when he spotted the monitor lens and, sticking out his tongue, smiled broadly into it.
    Unable to resist this childish behaviour she pressed the door-lock release and watched as he disappeared from the video screen.
    Opening the apartment door to him she was still intending to make a token protest, but was greeted with a doorway filled with flowers through which poked a magnum of champagne. From behind the floral screen came his voice.
    ‘Don’t say a word!’
    She stepped back as the flowers advanced on her. His face appeared grinning impishly over them.
    ‘You are forbidden to speak!’ he told her. ‘I’m here to look.’
    ‘Look?’ she gasped.
    The champagne was thrust into her hands – it was chilled – and a silencing finger laid lightly on her parted, protesting, lips.
    ‘Not a word! Not one! Nothing. You are sentenced to be silent.’
    Having freed one hand, he reached back into the hallway and dragged in a huge white box tied all over with golden ribbon. Saying nothing about the box he swept by her into the kitchen, leaving her to hold the champagne. He was back in a moment carrying a huge vase – he’d found an unwanted wedding present she couldn’t have found if her life had depended on it.
    He arranged the flowers – which only now did she register as predominantly, unseasonal, roses – while humming a joyous tune to himself.
    ‘But—’ she started to say before the finger again pressed her to silence.
    She sighed and turned away, wondering exactly how drunk he might be. On the other hand it was refreshing to find a grown man – who, she thought, knew how to behave and was prepared to play games at this level.
    Having placed the flowers precisely where she would have put them herself, he turned his attention to the champagne. Keeping to the rules she stayed silent as he flushed out yet another wedding present – fluted champagne glasses.
    Beginning to warm to the atmosphere she held the glasses as he opened the bottle – without any explosive overflow – and poured repeatedly until, the bubbles subsiding, they were filled.
    In the manner of a Head Waiter she was guided to her own couch and invited to sit down. The glasses touched and they drank.
    He settled on the matching couch opposite and smiled at her.
    ‘You are the most lovely lady I know,’ he told her, and then, as she opened her mouth to deflect the outrageous compliment, he again held up his finger. ‘Please!’ he said. ‘The things I have to say will be much more easily voiced if you say nothing.’
    Intrigued, she saluted him with her glass, sipped, smiled and looked expectantly at him for him to begin his promised monologue.
    She was disappointed. He simply sat opposite her, smiling and looking at her. Twice during the long minutes he spent at this, she opened her mouth to speak and twice he raised his admonishing finger to stop her.
    Deciding the only dignified way to support his game was to pretend to ignore him, she sat back and did her best imitation of a silent movie vamp.
    He clapped his hands in delight. ‘Perfect!’ he cried. ‘Listen, I could just sit here all day drinking with you but – I wonder – would you do something else for me?’
    Staying in character, she swept a hand through the air in a regally dismissive arc.
    He leapt to his feet, went to the door, picked up the huge white box in one