Man Drought Read Online Free Page A

a backpacker to work the bar and had a chef arriving soon from Perth, she was more than a little nervous about what she was taking on.
    Trying not to let these thoughts overwhelm her, she looked up and smiled at Trevor. ‘I don’t know about Cathy, but I think I’ve almost reached information overload.’
    ‘Good.’ Trevor grinned and scratched the back of his neck. ‘Because the pub’s starting to fill up. I think you’re going to be thrown in the deep end tonight.’
    ‘Sorry love,’ Cathy said. ‘I feel bad running out on you, but my book club would never forgive me if I didn’t go to my goodbye dinner.’
    Imogen nodded. Cathy had mentioned her monthly trek to the nearest town to meet with a bunch of other ladies and talk about books. She’d also confessed that they talked more about men andtheir unsatisfying sex lives than about literature. Tonight the group were throwing her a farewell party and Imogen had agreed to man the bar with Charlie.
    ‘It’s fine,’ Imogen said, trying not to think about a bunch of fifty-something-year-old women sitting round a table, talking sex. ‘I’m looking forward to meeting the locals. I’ll just go get changed.’
    ‘See you soon, then.’ Trevor retreated down the corridor.
    Imogen thanked Cathy for all her patience and then headed to her new abode above the pub. Like the rest of the building, the publican’s residence had seen better days. Her first priority would be restoring the public parts of the building, but in the few spare moments since she’d arrived, she’d done her best to make her private quarters comfortable. Cathy and Trevor had moved out the previous week and were ‘road-testing’ their caravan in the hotel’s car park, but Imogen didn’t think she’d truly consider the apartment her home until they’d left town.
    Now she slid her key into the door – Trevor had advised her to keep it locked even when she was downstairs on the premises – and headed for her new bedroom. Eerie silence filled her apartment. A silence almost as bad as the one in her house after Jamie died. She blew a kiss at his photo on her bedside table and stripped off her denim shorts and t-shirt. While in the office, she hadn’t spared much thought to her appearance, but tonight she was officially stepping out as the new publican and she wanted to look the part.
    She opened the wardrobe door and smiled at the neat picture in front of her. She knew it wouldn’t last – Jamie found her tendency to dump clothes on the floor or at the end of the bed infuriating – but right now it did look rather nice. Maybe she’d try a little bit harder to keep her living quarters tidy. Flicking through the outfits she’d bought to wear in the pub, she chose a knee-length black skirt and a short-sleeved checked shirt. She shook her head, ran her fingers through her hair and then finished by shovellingit all into a high ponytail. She washed her face and smiled at her reflection in the mirror as she slapped on a layer of foundation, a swipe of mascara on each eyelash and then a little gloss across her lips. Professional but not overdone. Excitement kicked her stomach over as she thought about the evening ahead.
    Imogen would be the first to admit she’d been a bit of a recluse since Jamie had died. Apart from work nights, she could count the number of times she’d been out in the evening on one hand. At first she hadn’t been able to summon the enthusiasm to dress up, and then, staying in and dreaming of happier times became a habit. When Jenna had finally conned her into attending her work Christmas party a year ago, she spent the whole evening sick to the stomach with guilt that she was out enjoying herself (or at least trying to) when Jamie would never spend a night out with friends again.
    She hated the guilt. It took over the grief for a while there, ate at her insides so that she couldn’t physically stomach food if she wasn’t at work or at home. It made her angry and