The Other Woman's Shoes Read Online Free PDF Page B

nanny, as Michael often said he wanted.
    Every room would be full of love and laughter.
    Her dream home would have kids’ pictures pinned to the kitchen walls, and there would be lots of pairs of small shoes by the front door. She knew Michael considered their family finished (‘a boy and a girl, the set’) but she secretly longed for more children; four had always seemed a lovely number. They would have a playroom that would be a fairytale space for adults and children alike: each wall would be painted a different vibrant colour; there would be a library corner where the kids would sit and pore over the books that she’d read as a child (and quite a few modern ones too, which were a damn sight funnier and brighter); and there would be a big wicker basket full of old loo rolls and cereal boxes so that she and the children could make things together – models of space rockets, miniature gardens (and they’d look just like the ones they made on Blue Peter ). The kids would always have friends round for tea and they’d eat sandwiches and drink bigglasses of milk (Mathew’s intolerance to wheat and dairy products would have subsided).
    It would also be a party house for grown-ups. Martha and Michael had lots of great friends and Martha loved entertaining. There was nothing she liked more than sending home half a dozen, half-cut friends after they’d eaten and drunk well. In her dream home the kitchen would be large enough to have a sofa and a fireplace so that her dinner guests could congregate there as she prepared the food. They’d laugh and chat about the latest celebrity gossip and they’d talk about the serious issues of the day. They’d serve great wines that Martha would be able to recommend with confidence. The children would politely pop downstairs at the start of the evening to say goodnight to the guests (then they’d go back to bed without getting overtired and throwing tantrums). The food would be beautifully presented and delicious (she wouldn’t burn a single thing).
    After a two-year search Martha and Michael had found the Bridleway: a house without any serious structural faults, within their price bracket, in a fantastic location, with original fireplaces, wooden floors and genuine sash windows – the right blend of potential.
    The dream house.
    Martha was left breathless just thinking about it.
    Eliza knew all there was to know about the Bridleway, and she wanted Martha and Michael’s offer to be accepted almost as much as Martha did. Depressed as she was about her own scope for joining the ranks of London’s affluent classes, she delighted in living her life vicariously through her sister. Not for a moment was she jealous ofMartha’s emotional and material success; in fact, it gave her hope.
    ‘Have you time for a cup of tea and then you can update me?’ asked Eliza.
    ‘Absolutely, but haven’t you just had a hot drink?’ asked Martha, gesturing towards Bianchi’s.
    ‘They don’t serve tea,’ replied Eliza. ‘Where are you parked?’
    Martha, Maisie and Eliza set off towards the Range Rover. Martha was wondering whether she would still have time to visit the supermarket and pick Mathew up from playschool if she had tea with Eliza. Eliza was contemplating, with amazement, that Martha still thought hot drinks were something to do with needing warmth or quenching thirst, when clearly they were all about being sociable.
    Both were desperate to chatter.

6
    Eliza suspected that Mr and Mrs Evergreen had found her on their doorstep, aged (roughly) two days, and had taken her in out of the goodness of their hearts. Because how else could she explain the fact that she was different from her sister in absolutely every way? Mrs Evergreen was not the type to have conceived a child by the milkman and conned her husband into bringing it up as his own – and yet they couldn’t be sisters, could they?
    Not only had Martha failed to look impressed when Eliza mentioned she’d spent the night before