Hot Basque: A French Summer Novel 2 Read Online Free Page B

magazine she’d worked for before they left London.
    At first she’d really missed her job. The sheer kick of stepping in through the glass doors, walking out of the lift and feeling the instant buzz as editors conferred over articles and layouts, studied glossy photographs, seemingly oblivious to the juniors scurrying around, fetching coffee or boxes of sushi, checking there was plenty of white wine in the fridge, perching on desks, complaining about the latest boyfriend. Oh it had been a great atmosphere.
    She tossed her cigarette carelessly over the balcony, frowned. She’d given up everything for Julian. Her job. Her friends. Everything. Sometimes she wondered if he really appreciated that, the wrench it had been to say goodbye, to leave the Docklands flat, to know she couldn’t just jump in a taxi and be at Harvey Nicks in minutes. Of course she’d been back several times, to sort out stuff for the wedding, to catch up with old friends, it was just a question of hopping on a plane and in no time at all she was there, pushing back the door to the penthouse, standing in front of the windows with their stunning views over the water.
    In fact she’d probably have to go over again in the next couple of weeks. That would mean leaving the baby, more arguments with Julian. But she couldn’t be expected to race all over London meeting top class chefs and dressmakers with a baby hanging on her back like a papoose. And there was no way she wanted to take Nadia, the more-than-capable-holier-than-thou Nadia the Nanny. Frankly she didn’t know how much longer she’d be able to put up with the girl, always cuddling Joshua and tickling his ribs and singing him silly little songs in Polish in a silly little high voice, casting looks of barely concealed reproach at his cruel unnatural mother. Ugh. And looks of adoration at his doting father, oh yes, Annabel had noticed.
    She felt a tiny twinge of guilt. Deep down she supposed she ought to spend more time with her son, but really babies were so boring. Eating, sleeping, filling his nappy, eating, sleeping, that’s all Joshua seemed to do. He smelled nice just after his bath, Nadia rubbed baby oil into his skin and talcum powdered his bottom and he was starting to look quite attractive, he even waved his arms above his head, a little Mexican wave. But that was the total extent of his personality. That was the problem, babies just didn’t have any personality. Maybe when he was older, 18 months, 2 years, who knows, then she might be able to relate to him a bit more. But now he was only three months. Three months going on four. And in any case, to hell with the guilt, there were other mothers like her, you just had to open the magazines, women everywhere were owning up, admitting that motherhood sometimes wasn’t all it was made out to be, sometimes a real burden, a sacrifice, a cross to bear. Some of them got positively suicidal.
    Well she’d done her bit. Produced the first Courtenay heir. The bloody parents were over the moon in their creepy pile in Bucks. Someone to continue the ancient Courtenay name. Now it was time to think of herself for a change after all those months of being a baby-carrier. She patted her stomach. Her abs were coming back. Her legs were re-toned. Thank God she’d met Susie.
    She’d been dreading the social life out here. Germany. Did they even do social life? So it had been a very nice surprise when they’d first been invited to dinner by Klaus, Julian’s opposite number in the company that had given his firm the contract. She’d been expecting a fat man with a red face, but Klaus was suave and good-looking, wearing a beautifully-cut suit and greeting her in flawless English. And his wife Susie came from Bournemouth, how amazing was that? Well not particularly amazing once she’d stopped to think. Julian was an international high-flyer now, moving among other international high flyers. It was a cosmopolitan circle, Germans, English, French and