A Face To Die For Read Online Free

versions of it. A talented dressmaker, she'd later progressed to tailoring as well. I suppose I'd followed in her footsteps instinctively. Nevertheless, my enthusiasm had always been more for the creative, designing side of things.
    *
    By the time I started at Art College, things had moved on a bit and Mum was more involved with Philip's restaurant business but, of course, her fashion flair and the way she always dressed so stylishly brought her many admiring compliments. Philip adored her and she'd certainly become a huge asset to him.
    It seemed I had inherited the artistic talent in our family, whereas my sister Belinda was the brainy academic, the one of whom everyone expected great things, and under whose shadow I'd always stood. Therefore, her sudden death from a brain haemorrhage during her last year studying for a science degree at Cambridge affected us all hugely. I was sixteen at the time, in my first year at Art College, and it truly devastated me.
    Mum cracked up completely over it. As a result she miscarried the baby she and Philip had only just discovered they were expecting. Bel's death also left me in a peculiar state of dread because of what I now had to live up to. With no Bel any more to achieve great things, as she undoubtedly would have, the onus suddenly rested on me to succeed in whatever I did.
    It was a burden I carried for months after her death, and was not made any easier because I missed Belinda so much. An icy chill still passes through me whenever I recall hearing the shocking news of her death. I felt somehow unable to believe in God any more after that; questioning who or what really ordains our destiny.
    I soon became more focused about my own future; determined to reach my goal - no matter what had to be sacrificed or how long it took me, to the exclusion of all else. I'd already discovered from the one brief, distracting relationship with Adam at college, how easily love - or what I thought was love at the time, can affect your judgement and send things a bit off course.
    I had thus made the decision to allow only a very special person, should he exist, into my life. And even so, whoever he might be would have to be able to co-exist with my career. Naive thinking perhaps, and possibly a bit selfish, but at the time it was essential for me to concentrate single-mindedly on pursuing my dreams.
    How could I possibly have known then the sort of men who would eventually decorate or cloud my future horizons?
     
     

CHAPTER 2
     
    'Annabel! Over here!' Vanessa's arm waved to me above the crowd. The air was thick with cigarette smoke as Sinatra's Songs for Swinging Lovers played in the background. Faces turned my way; everything went slightly blurred and my mouth felt dry as, nervously, I headed towards her, standing with a group of friends on the far side of the room. Several people smiled at me as I propelled myself forward. I felt the closeness of a man grinning affably, offering me a fluted glass.
    'Champers, Ducky?'
    I automatically took it from his hand. 'Thanks.'
    People were milling round me, laughing and chattering. Sipping my drink, I began to absorb my surroundings. Vanessa, at my side now, was reeling names off to me.
    'Annabel, meet Toby. This is Felicity... she's with Angus tonight. Julia, this is Annabel. Charles... meet Annabel... Annabel, this is Rupert and Amanda ... And so it went on. Gosh, how could I remember them all?
    I decided to try a method once explained to me by an American friend of Philip’s, which involved repeating the person's name immediately after being introduced. However, I soon gave up. It was impossible to do this with so many new faces.
    Later, I noticed a man bending over the radiogram twiddling the knobs. Something about him drew me over.
    ‘Hi,’ he said, without looking round.
    I studied the back of his head. It was nice head. 'Hello,' I said to it. There was something about the shape of his muscular shoulders outlined in an expensive looking fine