No Escape Read Online Free Page A

until he was sure she was
properly conscious.
    ‘I’m half asleep.’ She’d smiled up at him but pushed away his hand.
    ‘I don’t mind,’ he’d said, and put it back.
    The kiss had been the first thing that had jarred because of its roughness, though in a second or two, its intensity had swept away the last of her sleepiness, arousing her, and she’d
kissed him back with equal passion.
    ‘God, Lizzie,’ he had said, and then, right away, begun making love to her, and that had been uncharacteristically rough too.
    ‘Go easy, darling,’ she’d said, after a few moments.
    ‘Be quiet,’ he’d told her, and gone straight on.
    Lizzie had told herself afterwards that nothing much had happened, that it had just been a blip, something to forget about as soon as possible. After all, nothing major had occurred. Just that
slight –
not so slight
,
not really
– roughness.
    And those words.
    ‘
Be quiet.
’
    Christopher never spoke to her like that.
    She had broached it next morning, before breakfast.
    ‘That was unusual,’ she said. ‘Last night.’
    ‘Unusual?’ he repeated.
    ‘Not the lovemaking,’ she said. ‘That was lovely.’
    ‘I thought so.’
    ‘Except,’ she said.
    ‘Except what?’ Christopher had asked.
    ‘It was a bit rough,’ she said.
    ‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I really am, Lizzie.’
    ‘It’s all right,’ she said. ‘It was just a surprise, that’s all.’
    Something had worked in Christopher’s face for a moment. A hint of disappointment, Lizzie had thought.
    ‘I’d hoped,’ he had said, and stopped.
    ‘What did you hope?’ Lizzie had asked, curiously.
    ‘Nothing,’ he had said. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
    Six books and another child later, while Lizzie was still trying to work through the logistics of how she could possibly accept the offer Andrew France had brought her –
in view of her reluctance to leave the children for any length of time – Christopher promptly rendered it not only possible, but also almost unavoidable.
    ‘I’ll come with you,’ he told her, ‘with the children and Gilly.’
    ‘How could you?’ Lizzie thought about the daily demands on her husband.
    ‘It’s already as good as organized.’ He saw her face. ‘Only in theory, obviously. And provided you don’t object, of course.’
    It was a pleasant day, for March, and they were outside on the stone terrace at the top of the garden, wrapped in woollen sweaters, drinking coffee.
    ‘For one thing,’ Christopher went on, ‘you know that if I’m involved, no one will dare bugger you about on the special needs front.’
    That was so true she could think of no comment to make.
    ‘And, of course, it could be terrific news for the charity.’ Christopher gave Lizzie a challenging look over the top of his spectacles. ‘Especially if you’d consider
donating some of your royalties.’
    ‘Oh.’ Lizzie was startled.
    ‘You wouldn’t mind too much, would you, darling? Dalia was very excited when I mentioned the idea to her.’
    If there really were a way to get not blood, but cash, from a stone, then Dalia Weinberg, one of the mainstays at the HANDS head office in Regent Street, was the person to do it. She was in her
sixties now, but no less energetic or consumed by enthusiasm than a person half her age.
    ‘You told Dalia before me?’ Lizzie asked.
    ‘Sorry. Got carried away.’ He paused. ‘You don’t have to say yes to the donation. It’s just an idea.’
    ‘It would be pretty churlish of me to refuse now, wouldn’t it?’
    ‘Not at all.’
    ‘Hm.’ Lizzie watched a pair of sparrows in Sophie’s birdbath a few yards away.
    ‘HANDS aside, though,’ Christopher said, ‘there’d be another huge plus if you were to agree to all this. Certainly from my point-of-view.’
    ‘Which is?’
    ‘Us,’ he said.
    Lizzie said nothing, though the meaning behind that single word chilled her. Because as sincere as Christopher’s stated motives undoubtedly were – a chance for