Unchained Melanie Read Online Free PDF Page A

trite.
    ‘Perhaps what?’
    ‘Perhaps we’d better get going. You don’t want to be late.’
Melanie
didn’t want to be late. She’d planned an overnight stop on the way back in a hotel near Exeterand she fancied a leisurely settling-in, a rustic walk in the late afternoon sun followed by a long hot bubbly bath with a couple of indulgent magazines, then a solitary delicious supper. She was going to practise hard this new art of being totally alone. Perfect Patty (who loved any chance to check out her neighbours’ decor) was away for the weekend but her sister Vanessa had promised to call in and feed the cat. Melanie had quite easily impressed on her the folly of driving to Plymouth and back in a day. She hadn’t mentioned the hotel with the 25-metre pool and Michelin-starred chef, for Vanessa didn’t much approve of the pursuit of a good time. In case of emergencies she would leave the hotel’s phone number, but wasn’t going to feel any guilt for Vanessa assuming she was making a sensible but reluctant stopover at a Travel Lodge.
    Rosa was taking her time brushing her long coppery hair. Clouds of ciggy-scented dust danced in the sunshine from the open door of the cloakroom. ‘It’s not like school, Mum. No-one’s going to give me bloody detention if I’m a few hours after the deadline.’ Rosa slammed the loo door shut behind her and flung the brush into her battered suede bag. ‘Come on, help me load up. You can take the heavy stuff.’
    Melanie shoved aside a box of books and picked up Rosa’s guitar case. ‘I don’t think so. I’m old and decrepit, I need to protect my bones.’
    Rosa grinned. ‘God Ma, you’re not going all menopausal on me, are you?’
    Melanie hadn’t even considered it. The very idea came as quite a shock. OK, so she wouldn’t see forty again (or forty-three) but she still felt and functioned like a twenty-year-old. Her heart still quickened at thesight of a gorgeous young hunk, she’d never yet felt so out of place in Top Shop as to expect the Age Police to evict her at any moment and if she occasionally felt a bit hotter than usual she would put it down to excessive central heating, nothing more.
    ‘No, I’m not going all menopausal as you so sweetly put it, I’m just old enough to choose what to lift and carry. And it is
your
stuff,’ she told Rosa, picking up a small carrier bag full of what looked like old letters. She hoped they weren’t relics of Alex. Wasn’t university supposed to be about fresh starts?
    Eventually the car was packed. There were no arguments about what would fit in and what wouldn’t because Rosa simply doggedly arranged and rearranged the bags and boxes till they were wedged into place and the boot could just about be forced shut. Melanie noticed that the kitchen radio (the one she’d only that morning loaded with new batteries) was lying on top of a box of CDs and that back in the sitting room the video player had been unplugged as if in a half-hearted attempt at removing it. Rosa went back up to her room to check for forgotten essentials and came down the stairs looking thoughtful.
    ‘Sure you’ve got everything?’ Mel asked as she locked the front door behind her.
    ‘Mmm. I think so. If there is anything you could send it down on an overnight, couldn’t you?’ Mel gave her a look. ‘Please? And Mum, you won’t get all upset when we get there, will you? I mean I’ll be back in a few weeks. And I might phone you.’
    ‘Might? Oh thank you so much. Yes, I’ll probably cry absolute buckets,’ Melanie teased. ‘You’ll be so embarrassed you’ll be hustling me out of the door and disowning me.’
    ‘Don’t even joke about it.’ Rosa scowled as she settled herself into the front seat and under the comfort of her headphones. Her fingers were pecking at her mobile phone, texting her loyal troupe of female friends (and especially best mate Gracie) who supplied each other with a constant running commentary on their lives. If Mel was