Dreaming Out Loud Read Online Free Page A

them. But not you, apparently, and the fact that you can see right through me makes you all the more attractive.’ Then while she was desperately trying to work out how she should respond to such extravagant and probably insincere praise, he hurried on. ‘I tell you what, why don’t you make me a cup of cocoa?’
    Now thoroughly confused, Thelma could only stare at him. He laughed.
    ‘In fact, why don’t you make two cups of cocoa? One for me and one for you. And if you can find a toasting fork and cut us some slices of bread, we’ll sit here by the fire and have a sort of midnight feast. Would you like that?’
    There was nothing Thelma would have liked more. Jack Lockwood was very handsome: only a little taller than average, but somehow commanding. He had dark, wavy hair and film-star good looks. She thought he looked a little like Ronald Coleman. She didn’t know whether he was telling the truth about having noticed her and thinking her pretty the moment he came to stay here, but she had certainly noticed him.
    ‘Thelma, don’t keep me in suspense like this.’ He placed one hand, fingers spread, on his chest and raised the other arm in a theatrical gesture of supplication. ‘No, don’t laugh. Am I to enjoy a midnight feast with you or not?’ Despite his playful teasing, there was something in his eyes that made her believe he really wanted her to stay.
    ‘Yes . . . I mean, no. I mean, my mother . . .’
    ‘Where is she?’
    ‘In bed.’
    ‘And no doubt fast asleep?’
    ‘I suppose so.’
    ‘There you are, then.’
    ‘Why do you want me to stay and talk to you?’
    ‘Because you’re different. It would be good to forget about the theatre for a while and talk to a normal person.’
    ‘Normal person?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’
    ‘You don’t suppose all those poor souls singing and dancing their hearts out in a little seaside entertainment are anywhere near normal, do you? I mean, they would probably kill to be top of the bill.’
    ‘ You are top of the bill. And in the programmes and on the posters your name is bigger than any other name.’
    He laughed. ‘Which is all the more reason why I would like to leave that Jack Lockwood behind for a while. Wipe off all pretensions with my make-up and shed all affectations along with my stage costumes. Can you understand that, Thelma?’
    ‘I can, but I think you would find it very difficult.’
    Jack’s smile vanished and he looked at her quite coolly. Immediately she regretted what she had said. She wanted him to smile at her again. Her distress was so great that she actually felt a lump of misery rising in her throat.
    After a long pause when she could hear the clock ticking on the mantel shelf and the crackle of the coals in the grate, he smiled again and she almost fainted with relief.
    ‘My goodness,’ he said. ‘A prickly little rose.’
    ‘Are you angry with me?’
    ‘Would that upset you?’
    ‘Very much.’
    ‘I’m not angry and I would like us to be friends. We can find out about each other over a cup of cocoa and a couple of slices of toast – with butter, not margarine.’
    ‘Butter? I’m not so sure about that.’
    ‘Does your mother keep it under lock and key?’
    She smiled. ‘I think I can find some.’
    Thelma made the cocoa and found the butter. They sat on the hearth rug and made toast. Jack insisted on wielding the toasting fork. When they had eaten, he leaned towards her and, in a curiously intimate gesture, he brushed the crumbs from her lips with a clean white handkerchief. For a moment Thelma found it difficult to breathe.
    When the rain began to beat on the window panes, Jack rose and switched off the light. Taking her hand, he pulled her up then drew her towards the bed. She resisted as she knew she should, but not for long. That night became the first of many that she spent in his arms, only leaving him when the grey light of dawn had crept around the edges of the floral curtains.
    Had