Miranda's Big Mistake Read Online Free Page B

gloves, wafting them suspiciously under her nose. ‘God, if he knew where they’d been .’
    Miranda looked offended. ‘I had a shower this morning.’
    â€˜Not you, you idiot. Homeless Herbert. It’s probably weeks since he saw a bar of soap.’
    Miranda followed her out of the cloakroom.
    â€˜Great, thanks.’ The man took the gloves, then frowned. ‘They’re warm.’
    He looked at Bev. Bev, stumped, gazed back at him.
    â€˜It’s cold outside,’ Miranda chimed in helpfully. ‘As soon as you rang, Bev put them on the radiator to warm up.’
    Relieved, Bev nodded vigorously.
    â€˜That was nice of you.’ He grinned at her.
    â€˜Bev’s a thoughtful girl,’ said Miranda. ‘Single, too,’ she went on, barely wincing as beneath the desk a stiletto heel jabbed into her foot. ‘She’d make someone a wonderful wife.’
    When the client had left, Fenn beckoned Miranda over to him.
    â€˜So the gloves have been claimed?’
    â€˜Mmm. Lucky he came back before I ran off with them.’
    â€˜Very lucky.’
    Fenn kept a straight face as he returned his attention to the hair he was cutting. Did Miranda think he was blind and stupid?
    ***
    â€˜What’s that smell?’ Miranda wrinkled her nose as she burst into Florence’s living room. ‘It’s all in the hallway…crikey, it’s even stronger in here. Ah, you’ve had a visitor.’
    â€˜I have been visited,’ Florence solemnly agreed, as Miranda eyed the teapot and two cups and saucers on the table. ‘By Elizabeth.’
    â€˜Poor you. What was it this time,’ Miranda shrugged off her coat, ‘more raffle tickets?’
    Elizabeth Turnbull, their next-door neighbor, was a divorcée in her mid-forties who devoted half her life to charity fund-raising and the other half to squirting on perfume. She was a nice enough woman, if a bit on the bossy side. Overpowering in every sense of the word.
    â€˜Worse.’ As she spoke, Florence pushed a couple of stiff white invitations across the table. ‘Tickets to a cocktail party, if you please. Twenty quid a head, but they’ve rustled up a few celebrities,’ she raised her asymmetrically penciled eyebrows, ‘so apparently it’s a bargain. You get a free glass of champagne and the chance to hobnob with the rich and famous. And, of course, it’s all for a tremendously good cause.’
    â€˜I’m sure it’ll be tremendous fun, too.’ Miranda, in turn, mimicked Elizabeth’s strident tones. She glanced at the gilt-edged invitations, each one admitting two guests. ‘Actually, it might be fun. You could do with a night out.’
    â€˜Oh, I’m not going.’
    â€˜Why on earth not?’
    â€˜The party’s being held in a third-floor flat. No elevators in the building.’ Dryly Florence added, ‘No Stannah Stairlift either. The only way I’d get in is if a helicopter dropped me through the roof.’
    â€˜So you paid eighty pounds for tickets and you aren’t even going to turn up?’ Miranda shook her head, bemused. ‘Honestly, and you call me a soft touch.’
    Florence shrugged. She had her caustic-old-battleaxe image to think of.
    â€˜It was the only way to get rid of Elizabeth before the stench of that godawful scent of hers started dissolving the carpet. Anyway, I’ll give one of the tickets to Verity and Bruce. The do’s being held on their wedding anniversary—those kind of meet-the-celebrity functions are right up their street.’

Chapter 4
    It didn’t help that Bruce kept shaking his head and telling her she looked terrible. Every time he said it, Chloe longed to blurt out that maybe if he was pregnant and his wife wanted him to have an abortion, he might look terrible too.
    But she couldn’t.
    She didn’t dare.
    As long as nobody else was aware of the situation, Chloe felt