An Affair to Remember Read Online Free Page B

time…”
    “I’ll park it off the road, there’s a track – but if you’d rather not come –”
    “Oh darling, of course I want to come, can’t wait, it’s just –”
    “So long then – see you there.”
    She’d only met Jack Fulton three weeks ago, but those three weeks had changed her life, they really had. She felt young again, full of life and the spirit of adventure – anything could happen, no matter what, she didn’t care. And it had been such an incredible stroke of luck too that she’d met him at all. It wasn’t as if she was in the habit of treating herself to a drink on her own, somehow it didn’t feel right. But the day she met Jack Fulton had been so hot and sticky that after finishing her shopping she’d popped in to the George Hotel in the High Street for a quick sherry before driving home. All the tables in the lounge being occupied, feeling a little conspicuous, she had to admit, she’d sat herself up at the bar, but only had time to take one sip of her sherry and pop an olive into her mouth, before this tall, fair haired, beefy chap loomed up and plonked himself down beside her. “Waiting for hubby, then?” he’d asked – and oh what a lovely smile he had – “Or may I buy you a drink? I hate to see a pretty woman drinking on her own.”
    “Thanks very much,” she’d said, before she’d even had time to think about it, “I’ll have a sherry, if I may. As it happens my husband’s at home minding the store.” And that was how it had started. They met again the following week – she always went into town on a Thursday, and a proper little Brief Encounter it had turned out to be. Jack Fulton, that was his name, was a traveller in animal food stuffs, with a wife and kids up north in Barnsley. He was doing a three month stint in his firm’s Suffolk area to fill in for a colleague who was off sick . Makes a nice change, he’d told her, but it did mean he was all on his own during the week – he went home at weekends of course. “Sent from heaven, Emmie, you are,” he’d said, the first time they kissed, his eyes glazed with desire, his heavy body squashing hers into the back seat of his green Volvo, his breath coming in quick gasps. “Not here, not now,” she’d somehow managed to say – they were in the car park of The George, “someone might see us. Leave it with me, I’ll think of somewhere. Give me a tinkle tomorrow – that is if you can find the time.”
    “I’ll find the time, alright, just give me the number, you green-eyed temptress,” (green-eyed temptress!) he’d said heaving himself off her, “but old Jack’s an impatient guy, so don’t you keep him waiting.” And she had found a place. That little wood at the top of Dog’s Head Hill – the Grove, the locals called it, and it was only half a mile from the shop, so handy for nipping out to, if Jack by any happy chance wanted a quickie. A bit on the windy side, but no houses anywhere, with a little pathway into it leading off the road, and they’d been snug as anything in this leafy glade they’d come across. Really romantic, as long as the weather kept fine, and safe from prying eyes, too – that is until last week when that wretched Josh Bogg had to come up the hill in his tractor and see them getting into Jack’s car. The locals said the place was haunted, some old god once had his shrine up there or some such rubbish, but she and Jack had been far too busy having fun to think about that!
    Her toilet completed to her satisfaction, Emmie picks up her shoulder bag, too hot for a sweater, and hurries downstairs. She’s decided on that loose, pink cotton sack dress, she’d bought on her last visit to town: only worn once, and with that low cleavage, not being too tight round the hips, and easy to get out of – useful if Jack was in a hurry, sadly he often was – it seemed just the right thing for a day like this. And though she says it herself, after one last look in the mirror, she