Wish Me Luck Read Online Free PDF

winced and stood alone in the kitchen, biting her lip. After a moment, she’d followed her father outside and found him leaning on the gate, staring with unseeing eyes at the spread of land before him that was now all his. She’d stood beside him, resting her arms on the top of the gate.
    ‘Dad—?’
    ‘Leave it, Fleur.’ He’d sighed heavily, his anger dying as swiftly as it had come. ‘It all happened a long time ago and it’s best left buried. It’s over and done with.’
    ‘It doesn’t sound like it as far as Mum’s concerned,’ she’d retorted. Immediately she regretted her words when she saw the bleak expression that flitted across her father’s face.
    ‘Oh, Dad,’ she’d said, putting her hand on his arm and trying her most cajoling tone. ‘Won’t you tell me what it’s all about?’
    His hand had covered hers as he’d replied softly, ‘I … I can’t, love. They’re not my secrets to tell.’ And he’d refused to say any more.
    For mid-April, it was surprisingly hot and still in the lane, sheltered from the light breeze by hedges on either side. Fleur spread her greatcoat on the grass and sat down beneath the shade of two huge trees, the branches rustling gently above her. She leant back against one of the trunks, her gaze still on the corner of the lane. She wanted to see him again – even wanted to see his mother again. She’d liked her. But part of her wanted them to stay away. For, if they did come, how was she going to explain that they weren’t welcome at Middleditch Farm? She certainly couldn’t risk taking them home. She didn’t want her mother throwing another fit. Nor did she want to see that terrible haunted look on her dad’s face.
    Fleur loved her dad – loved both her parents, of course, but she was fiercely protective of her father. She didn’t really understand why – couldn’t have put it into words – but for as long as she could remember she’d sometimes seen a strange, sad, faraway look in his eyes and, even as a little girl, she’d felt the instinctive desire to shield him from hurt. Only the touch of her tiny hand in his had brought him back to his happy present, as he’d hugged her to him or ruffled her hair affectionately. As she’d grown older she’d thought his moments of melancholy were because of Betsy’s preoccupation with Kenny, believing her father felt neglected and excluded. It had drawn her even closer to him.
    But now, she wondered, was that sadness, buried deep, to do with Robbie’s mother? If it was, the reminder of it had made her own mother hysterical …
    There was something tickling her nose. Drowsily, she brushed it away, and then she heard his soft chuckle and opened her eyes.
    ‘Sleeping Beauty,’ he teased. He was lying beside her, leaning on one elbow and tickling her with a piece of grass.
    She gave a startled cry and sat up. ‘I must have fallen asleep.’ She blinked and rubbed her eyes as she looked around her. ‘Where’s your mother?’
    ‘She hasn’t come.’ For a moment, his eyes clouded. ‘Said it wouldn’t be right.’ He shrugged. ‘I don’t understand why though.’
    ‘I do,’ Fleur said promptly. ‘At least, part of it. I think I know why she hasn’t come.’
    She lay down, leaning on her elbow so that they were facing each other. ‘There’s something gone on in the past between them all. I don’t know what it is – they won’t tell me – but it must be something pretty awful ’cos my mum threw a ducky fit.’
    ‘A what?’ He was laughing in spite of himself.
    Now Fleur grinned too. ‘Sorry. It’s something one of the girls I met while training was always saying. It must be catching.’
    ‘I take it your mother wasn’t best pleased?’
    ‘That’s an understatement if ever there was one. I’ve never – in my whole life – seen her act like that. Oh, she gets a bit het up about things. Fusses and flaps about anything and everything – usually about our Kenny – but this morning she