Unguarded Moment Read Online Free PDF Page A

timetable to bring her back to London again, but the pain lingered.
    She often felt as if she occupied a kind of limbo. Her family had learned to live without her, had apparently closed the circle against her, and her only value to Bianca lay in her general efficiency and usefulness.
    'I'll talk to Leon over lunch,' Bianca announced, scrutinising her flawless complexion through narrowed eyes. 'He should be able to think of something to get me off the hook.'
    'I hope so,' Alix said with a sigh. 'Perhaps he'll be able to convince Mr Brant that you haven't anything to hide.'
    'What on earth do you mean?' Bianca demanded sharply.
    Alix met her eyes in the mirror. 'Oh, it was just something that he implied—that you didn't want him to write the book because there could be something you didn't want him to find out about.' She tried to smile rather uncertainly. 'I tried to tell him he was wrong, but I'm not sure I was successful.' She broke off, uneasily, staring at Bianca's reflection, aware of a certain rigidity in her expression, and that the colour had faded in her face, emphasising the carefully applied blusher on her cheekbones.
    Alix said sharply, 'Is something wrong? Surely there's nothing that he could find out…'
    'Of course there's nothing,' Bianca snapped. 'I can't understand what's got into you, Alix. You're usually so level-headed and sensible, but this man seems to have sent your wits begging. Either that or going on holiday makes you lose all sense of proportion. You'd better take the rest of the day off and get a grip on yourself. I'll see you tomorrow.'
    'Thanks,' Alix returned with a touch of irony. A small voice inside her head was saying that if Bianca retained her own sense of proportion about Liam Brant and the biography project, this whole situation would never have arisen, but of course she would never say so. 'I think I'll go home.'
    'That will be nice.' Bianca turned away from the mirror, with a final look at her appearance. 'Give them all my best, won't you,' she added indifferently.
    From the window, Alix watched Bianca climb into the waiting taxi and speed off to her lunch engagement with her agent. She could imagine the scene as Bianca entered the restaurant, see the admiring glances, hear the murmurs of recognition as she made her way to her table. Even a simple action like that became a performance, executed with the utmost confidence and panache.
    And yet, a few minutes earlier, she had seen the mask slip. For a moment Bianca had been caught off balance, and Alix found herself wondering why, that indefinable sense of unease deepening. It was impossible, of course, that anyone who had lived her life as fully, and often as scandalously, revelling in the publicity, as Bianca could really have any kind of secret to conceal. She could have sworn that all Bianca's cupboards were open for inspection and lacking in skeletons of any kind.
    At least I hope so, she thought as she turned away from the window.
     
    Her first thought when she pushed open the back door and entered the kitchen was that her mother looked tired. But that could just be because she had been baking all morning for the local church's charity cake stall, she told herself.
    'You've lost weight,' she teased as she hugged her mother.
    'And not before time either,' Margaret said with a grimace. 'Just let me get this last batch out of the oven and I'll make us some tea.'
    'That will be lovely.' Alix settled herself beside the kitchen table and stole a jam tart from the baking tray. 'No need to hurry. I have all day.'
    'Oh dear!' Margaret looked at her quickly. 'I wish you'd telephoned, dear. You see, we're going out this evening to have a meal with Paul's parents—to talk over wedding details. Mrs Frensham's only expecting the three of us. I don't really see…'
    'It doesn't matter,' Alix said quickly. 'I wouldn't dream of pushing in. I have loads of things to do, as it is—unpacking properly, for starters. And I wouldn't mind an early