Underground Rivers Read Online Free PDF

arc and begin to fall. It’s a good, strong hand. Like Dad’s. A safe hand. He smiles as the squeals behind us reach a crescendo. I turn to see Emily holding the bouquet triumphantly aloft. A dozen roses. So deeply red, they’re almost black at the heart.
    It’s the perfect climax to the perfect day he promised me. Charlie’s free hand cups my chin and pulls my face to his. The stubble’s roughness round my mouth tells me it’s been a long day, although it feels like no more than a moment. Strange how you can know someone so well after such a short time. My beautiful Charlie. It’s sad his mother couldn’t be here though.
    â€œWe could wait till she’s better,” I said, when Charlie got the call from the hospital.
    â€œShe wouldn’t want that,” he said. “Anyway, we’ve sent out the invitations now.”
    Back at the hotel there’s a four-poster bed. Champagne and oysters waiting on ice. Charlie’s thought of everything. I’ve never tasted oysters before. Charlie shows me how to slide them into my mouth, like a slug of seawater.
    â€œThey’re an aphrodisiac,” he says, draining his glass as he watches me swallow.
    â€œI don’t need one when you’re around.”
    I lean in to kiss him, but he’s grabbing for the second bottle of champagne. Just for a second, I think he’s forgotten I’m here.
    Tonight in the four-poster is the closest thing to heaven. Charlie’s just the best lover in the world. Gentle. Considerate. Insatiable. It’s like we’re in our own private world. An endless bubble where nothing can touch us. I have to get up around 4am. When I come back, Charlie’s at the window, lighting a cigarette. He’s drawn back the heavy, brocade curtains and the sky’s just tinged with pink. The formal garden below casts deep shadows and the silver birch near the window is shivering and whispering. I slide my arms around Charlie and kiss him between the shoulder blades. He shudders and leans back against me, drawing in in a deep draught of tobacco smoke.
    We decided some time before the wedding that there was no point in going away for a honeymoon. Just the wedding night in a really posh hotel. Actually, I think it was Charlie who decided, but I couldn’t help but agree when he rolled over around 7.30 one morning, kissed me and slid his hand slowly down over my stomach.
    â€œThere’d be no point really,” he said. “We wouldn’t see anything but the hotel room.”
    Somehow he was on top of me then and the discussion was over.
    And of course, he was right. We got home four days ago and we’ve barely emerged from the bedroom. I’ve lost all sense of time. And if I’m honest, I could do with a decent meal. The wedding dress on the back of the door is the only reminder that there ever was a world outside these walls. It’s hanging at a very slight angle and I keep wanting to get up and straighten it. Charlie follows me every time I go anywhere. I’m starting to crave personal space, but I have a niggling sense he wouldn’t like it much if I told him. The butterflies in my stomach don’t feel quite so good any more.
    Charlie gets up to go to the bathroom. I’m about to follow when a strange sound intrudes. My phone. Charlie scowls and walks out. Everyone’s left us in peace since the wedding, but Emily hasn’t been able to wait any longer. She wants all the gory details. We’re deep in conversation, so I don’t know how long Charlie’s been standing there when I put the phone down. His face is half-covered in shaving foam and the razor’s in his hand. He looks comical and sweet.
    â€œWho was that?”
    â€œEmily.”
    â€œDidn’t sound like Emily. What did she want?”
    â€œJust a chat. She wanted to know how I was.”
    â€œWell, you’re OK aren’t you? Why wouldn’t you