Wild Melody Read Online Free PDF Page A

it on Sundays. It's almost as quiet as Torvaig,' he said. 'And
    what's more, I've seen a vacant parking meter. Here we go.'
    A few minutes later, Catriona found herself in a huge shop. Jason Lord's
    hand was under her elbow, urging her forward through the crowds
    thronging the counters, as she caught tantalising glimpses of exquisite
    displays of scarves and handbags and sniffed exotic odours as she was
    whisked through the cosmetics department.
    'Lift or escalator?' he asked, then quickly, 'I'm sorry, I'm treating you like a
    child. But you look so damned young in those jeans with your hair tied
    back.'
    'I know—like a waif,' she retorted, already more than conscious that she
    seemed to be the only person in jeans in the whole massive building. 'And
    I've never been on an escalator.'
    'Up we go, then.' He steadied her on to the moving staircase. 'Hold on to me
    if you like.' v
    'The rail is quite adequate/ she returned stiffly, then spoiled it by stumbling
    as they stepped off at the top.
    Her feet sank into a thick carpet, and somewhere soft music was playing.
    Everywhere there were clothes, displayed on models, pinned on wire
    frames, hanging on rails and circular racks. She felt she was dreaming, and
    then another more demoralising thought struck her. She caught at Jason
    Lord's sleeve. 'My money! I—I left it in the rucksack.'
    'Well?' He looked tall and forbidding as he swung to look at her. 'What of
    it?'
    Catriona gestured awkwardly around her.
    'I haven't enough with me to pay for anything here.'

    'I never suggested you should. Now come on. We've a lot to get through.' He
    sounded impatient. 'First things first. We don't even know whether you'll
    find a dress you like here.'
    'But they must have hundreds of dresses,' Catriona gasped.
    'You're an unusual woman if that makes any difference,' he said. 'Ah,
    there's the person we want.' He propelled Catriona towards a grey-haired
    woman in a smart black suit, standing by a rail of coats studying some
    papers. 'Hello, Mrs Cuthbert. We need your help.'
    'Mr Lord.' The woman smiled charmingly, then turned to Catriona. 'My
    word!' she said.
    'And that's putting it mildly.' Jason Lord took Catriona by the shoulders and
    pushed her forward. 'She's going to Mrs Lord's party with me and she hasn't
    a thing to wear. What can you do for her?' Mrs Cuthbert studied Catriona,
    now flushed with humiliation.
    'Well, there are possibilities,' she said cautiously. 'What does she need?'
    'The works.' Jason Lord released Catriona and stepped back. 'And her hair,
    Mrs Cuthbert. I don't know who attends to my sister-in-law, but. . .'
    'It's Miss Barbara,' said Mrs Cuthbert. 'I'll phone the salon now and see if
    she can squeeze another appointment in.'
    'Fine.' He consulted his watch. 'Shall we say the restaurant in two hours?'
    'I'll send her to you,' Mrs Cuthbert promised. Catriona raged inwardly.
    They might have been talking about one of the dummy figures standing
    round the department, she thought furiously. And just who was going to
    pay for all this? She still had to find somewhere to live until she and Jeremy
    could be married. She could not afford to spend any of her little hoard of
    money on a party dress she did not need. But Jason Lord's tall figure was
    already disappearing, and Mrs Cuthbert was leading her gently but firmly
    to a fitting room.

    Later that evening, Catriona stood in front of the mirror in the small
    bedroom at the flat and looked at herself in frank disbelief.
    The dress was almost the same green as her eyes, and its low bodice cut
    square across her small breasts was covered with sparkling crystals with
    narrow matching shoulder- straps. The straight satin skirt reached the floor,
    hiding her delicately strapped high-heeled sandals. She was really
    Cinderella, she thought wonderingly. Her hair, expertly trimmed, had been
    set so that it hung smooth and shining to her shoulders, just turning up at the
    ends. She was lightly made up, with eye-shadow and