The Warning Read Online Free PDF Page B

Nadine’s stupid badmouthing too seriously, and now by lying to him.
    “I wouldn’t have thought that for a moment. And I’m not letting you off the hook, I’m afraid. I think, since you’ve put me out by making me roam the streets looking for you, I ought to be allowed to take you out for dinner very soon. You and Freya, if she’d like to come too.”
    “Don’t invite me.” Freya rolls her eyes. “I mean, thanks, and I get what you’re trying to do, but . . . it’s silly. You should just invite Mum, on her own. I won’t feel left out, abandoned or anything like that.”
    “Oh.” Tom frowns. “Thanks for the tip, remarkably well-adjusted child. See, I feared that not inviting you might have overtones of When-I-marry-your-mother-I-intend-to-keep-you-locked-in-the-cellar. Am I wrong? Because I totally wouldn’t keep you locked the cellar. I’m happy to shake on that now if you’d like?”
    He extends his hand and Freya shakes it. She says, “I love our cellar. It’s where my Xbox is. I’d like to spend more time there—Mum’s always dragging me upstairs to do mind-improving things, yawn.”
    “You should always listen to your mother, if only because she’s a jewelry magnate and has access to diamonds.”
    “That is so not true.” I laugh. “My only experience of diamonds is seeing them in shop windows.”
    “Then that must change,” says Tom Rigbey. “Now, when can you lock your daughter in the cellar and have dinner with me?”
    “What about tonight, Mum?” Freya suggests.
    “Um. I’m not sure if—”
    “Ninny’ll babysit. You know she will. When does she ever say no?” To Tom, Freya says, “That’s my gran. Our Wi-Fi’s way faster than hers. She’d move in with us if she could.”
    Tom bows. “I greatly admire your strategic slant of mind, young lady. But we can’t make plans unless your mother joins our little conspiracy. What shall we do to persuade her? I mean, it’s only dinner. It’s not as if we’re proposing to blow up the Houses of Parliament.”
    Freya laughs and tucks her hair behind her ear. She’s clearly delighted to be treated as if she’s a key player. Smart move, Talented Mr. Rigbey.
    “ All right,” I say. “Dinner tonight.”
    I’m glad this evening is still several hours away. So much has been said during this short conversation that I need to analyze. I want to make the arrangement as quickly as I can, so that I can get away from Tom Rigbey right now.
    I need to get away from him so that I can think about him properly, without him there to distract me.

 
    Chapter 7
    W E MEET FOR dinner at eight o’clock, at a restaurant called the Oak Bistro, on Lensfield Place. I’ve never been here before, and it doesn’t look like much from the outside, but inside it’s beautiful: striking, colorful paintings with price tags attached occupying whole walls; thick white tablecloths and proper napkins—or, as Tom said when we sat down at our table, “None of your folded-paper nonsense.” I notice there’s an attractive outdoor eating area too, which must be fantastic in summer.
    Will Tom and I ever sit out there? Will he still want to take me out for dinner by the time summer comes around?
    Don’t be an idiot, Chloe. Take it one day at a time.
    I know why I’m feeling insecure, and I know how pathetic it is. Since we met this evening, Tom hasn’t once mentioned marriage or diamonds. He seems to have two modes: frivolous and earnest. Tonight he’s in earnest mode and not cracking silly jokes. He seems mainly to want to hear about my work and relationship history, and to tell me about his. Which is nice in a different way, but . . .
    No. No buts. It’s nice. I’m having a lovely time. It’s just that after everything he said this afternoon, I was half expecting to arrive at the Oak Bistro and find him on one knee, holding out a diamond engagement ring, with a specially commissioned orchestra playing romantic music in the background.
    I’ve read him