The Monsoon Rain Read Online Free PDF Page B

tea?”
    “And cakes, I suppose,” she sneered. There was an edge to Miranda’s voice that Molly was surprised to detect. What was the matter with her daughter? It must be the heat, poor dear, affecting her.
    “Oh, he knew who I was. He wished me good evening and said, ‘Hello, Mrs. Stewart. When do you think Miranda will be home?’”
    Miranda stood there rooted to the ground, not knowing whether to cry or laugh—what a rogue, making up to her mother!
    Molly could not contain herself; she was dying to know all about this wonderful man who had called.
    Miranda was not giving anything away. She knew her mother; in no time her little group of friends would know all about Derek, and who knew where it would all end? By the time the ladies finished with them they would be married with children. So Miranda held her tongue, making Molly visibly upset.
    The telephone rang, and Miranda rushed to answer it.
    “Mira?” that voice aloof and drawling “I was in your area a little while ago.
    You have such a sweet and a wonderful mother,” he hastened to add.
    Sucking up to her, she thought. What a rogue.
    “I know,” Miranda replied. There was a distinct coldness in her voice. She did not want to let Derek know how happy she was that he had called. She could have danced with joy, she was so excited.
    “What about coming to Paris with me tomorrow?”
    “What?” she said. “What?” she said again. “You are not putting me on?” She did not believe him.
    “I’ve got the tickets,” he said. “I want you to come. Please, Mira,” he carried on. “Please say yes.” He was being very persuasive, albeit very gently.
    “You bought a plane ticket for me?” She couldn’t believe her ears. This man without even consulting her had gone ahead and bought her a plane ticket for Paris! It was incredible.
    After what had happened yesterday? Was it a dream or a reality? Was it really happening to her?
    “Say yes, please,” Derek said again, cajoling her into agreeing. “Do you want me to come over now to your place and beg you on bended knee?” He always managed to have such a coaxing voice. The way he spoke to her, it was extremely difficult to say no. He could make her laugh, too.
    “It’s such a short notice,” Miranda said, knowing full well that she would give in. Her heart was beating fast, her pulse rapid. She had never been out of London. A few times, when her father was alive, they had taken a few trips to the seaside at South-end—that was her only traveling experience.
    By the time the call with Derek ended she was as red as a beet root. Thank God her mother was not near her, although she was hovering around trying to catch snippets of the conversation.
    Derek took it for granted that she would be joining him. It was decided that Derek would pick her up the next morning—and after that? She was completely in the dark regarding the agenda in Paris. Was this really happening?
    The only thing to do now was to pack a small bag and wait. Miranda was in a quandary, trying to make up her mind about what to take. She had never met anybody like Derek before. He was so rich he could go and buy tickets for other people at the drop of a hat.
    The next morning was slightly chillier than the last few days, and dull. The feel of autumn was in the air, so Miranda decided to travel in a light pair of slacks and a light jacket just in case it turned chilly. It was the only smart jacket she possessed, so it would have to do.
    The doorbell rang, and she could hear her mother inviting Derek in. By the time she came downstairs both of them were chatting away like old friends.
    “Oh, there you are!” they said in unison.
    “Oh, Mrs. Stewart,” Derek hastened to add, “look after yourself. You won’t be missing your daughter, will you? She will be home, soon!” he added gaily.
    Molly giggled like a young girl. She was so taken with this lovely young man. She hoped something concrete occurred after this trip—an engagement