The Mill House Read Online Free PDF Page A

yourself?' he asked.
    'I'm not in the mood for this conversation,' she replied crisply.
    Silence prevailed until, without warning, he swerved into a pub car park and turned off the engine. 'Come on, I'll buy you a drink,' he said, starting to get out of the car.
    'Josh! For heaven's sake, look at me. It was bad enough having to face your mother like this, I don't want to go into a pub.'
    'What's wrong with you, for God's sake?'
    'How can you say that? My hair's not washed, I've got no make-up on, these trousers are practically as old as Shannon .. .'
    'White wine or vodka tonic?' he cut in.
    'Did you hear what I said?'
    'I'll bring the drink out,' he urged.
    'Good answer. That way you get your drink, and don't have to be seen with me.'
    Sighing, he let his head fall back against the seat. 'I don't think I'm going to win this,' he muttered.
    'Is it a contest?'
    His eyes came round to hers. 'No. It's just me wanting to buy you a drink. Is that too much to handle?'
    She pushed open the door. 'White wine,' she said. 'I'll go and sit at the table over there, by the cartwheels.'
    As she waited she sent texts to the children, then tried very hard to keep her mind in neutral, because she didn't want to think, she only wanted the wine when it came, and then Josh to tell her what she most longed to hear - that the book she'd submitted six weeks ago was going to be published. It wasn't going to happen though, she
    knew that already, because if it was, he wouldn't be trying to distract her with a Porsche, he'd have been plying her with fizzing magnums of expensive champagne.
    Her insides churned with so much disappointment that for a moment she felt almost panicked by the depth of it. It was as though a lifeline had been dangled and was now rapidly being drawn in, leaving her to flounder in a darkness impossible to escape. She took a gasp of air, then closed her eyes tightly. She knew this reaction was out of proportion, that if she'd let him Josh would provide all the safety she needed, so she must get herself under control. It wouldn't be the end of the world if the news was bad, they'd all survive, and her terror that she might not was due to her over-vivid imagination rather than anything real.
    Feeling the sun on her skin she turned to look around, trying to distract herself by watching cattle grazing in the next field, tails flicking, muzzles chomping. A soft breeze moved through her hair. She listened to the birds, the traffic and music inside the pub. The air was scented by jasmine growing nearby, dung from the field, and fumes from the cars. Then she looked up as Josh approached and loved him so much it hurt.
    After putting their drinks down he sat facing her across the wooden table, watching her sip the wine, while he drank a beer. When her eyes finally came to his, he covered her free hand with his own, and felt her fingers lacing into his.
    'They've turned it down, haven't they?' she said softly
    As he nodded her heart contracted so painfully that childish tears filled her eyes.
    She looked off into the distance, and felt him watching her, his regret and love trying to reach her.
    'I'm sorry,' he said, his fingers tightening around hers.
    She made no response. What was there to say? Her first book hadn't been a success, and now clearly her second wouldn't be either.
    She used a large sip of wine to help swallow the lump in her throat. All those years as an editor, all that knowing what made a book work and what set it apart from the rest, yet she couldn't do it for herself. She was a failure, worthless, a woman who contributed nothing to her own life, was totally dependent on her husband who might, at any time, decide to leave her.
    She guessed now that McKenzies had only published her first book as a favour to Josh. A seventy-thousand-pound advance had made it a very big favour, for she knew the business, and seventy grand was huge in comparison to most first-book deals. It had made no difference to the critics though, for