Dying For You Read Online Free Page A

for our more physically-inclined clientele. I see from your form, Nigel, you're not much into physical pursuits.’
    This last helped a tiny line force its way through the make-up. Tiny flakes of powder sat on top of it as if for emphasis. Rafferty began to feel he was becoming something of a disappointment to Caroline Durward. Quickly, he assured her, ‘I was sporty when I was younger. But nowadays I get little time.’
    ‘Time – always a problem for our members. Most of them lead such hectic lives. That's where we come in, of course. Like that old advert that claimed its product took the waiting out of wanting we try to do the same. And as an independent agency rather than part of a large chain, we're able to offer that important personal touch. We keep our gatherings small, usually no more than fifty, occasionally as many as a hundred, but never more than that. We mostly hold our regular ‘Getting-To-Know-You’ parties at my own home, so much more intimate than the usual hotel function rooms.’
    Rafferty had a picture in his mind of 100 people crammed way-too-intimately into a standard three-bed semi. But Caroline soon reassured him.
    ‘Of course, my home, New Hall, is large enough to offer intimacy to such numbers without a crush. I think you'll find it attractive. Most people seem to. But its main advantage is that it makes for much more discretion than the more usual busy hotel locations, though we also make use of facilities at local 4-star hotels, like The Elmhurst. We find their annexe convenient as it's set in its own grounds apart from the main hotel so gives the privacy our members require.’
    Rafferty relaxed so much under Caroline's practiced sales patter that he forgot his reservations and told her he was happy to sign up.
    A few minutes later, she stood up, shook his hand and as she ushered him to the door, told him, ‘Isobel, our receptionist will take your fee and give you the personal invitations for our current social functions, a list of sensible guidelines, as well as a detailed map of Elmhurst and surrounds. We have two of our ‘Getting-To-Know-You’ parties coming up imminently. As you'll have learned from our literature, we hold a number of these each month to introduce new clients to the other members. Promise you won't be shy and will attend at least one of these parties?’
    Rafferty promised, which seemed to earn him an approving smile.
    ‘Good. Good. Some of our clients tend to need the ‘mother hen’ approach,’ she confided. ‘That's more the province of Simon Farnell, another of the agency partners. Simon does ‘mother hen’ very well.’
    Briefly, her eyes flickered with something that was far from a match for the lovey-dovey wedding pictures. Rafferty guessed that, like most businesses, the partners were at loggerheads about something. However, unlike her receptionist, Caroline Durward didn't treat him to gossipy confidences as to what it was about Simon Farnell's ‘mother hen’ approach to which she took exception.
    They said their goodbyes and as Rafferty reached the second door in the short corridor it opened and a slim, fair-haired young man emerged. He gave Rafferty a wide smile.
    ‘A new member, I see. Let me introduce myself. I'm Simon Farnell, one of the partners. And you are?’
    ‘Nigel Blythe.’ So this was the ‘mother hen’, Rafferty thought. Farnell had the indefinable camp air and exquisite tailoring that proclaimed ‘homosexual’.
    ‘Good to meet you, Nigel.’ Farnell propped himself against the wall and stuffed his hands nonchalantly in his pockets as though preparing for a neighbourly gossip. He must have noticed Rafferty's frowning glance at the wedding pictures that also lined the walls of the corridor, for he quickly reassured, in a voice that must surely be heard through the panels of Caroline's office door. ‘Don't be put off by all the fake wedding pictures. I told Caroline they were a mistake, but she insisted they were necessary to