Second Hand Jane Read Online Free Page A

rocks but even on a grey day, the
view from the train’s smeared window was a stunning one as it
hugged the rugged coastline. As they neared Enya’s castle, which
wasn’t really a castle but an impressively purposely-built pile of
rocks, Jess risked a glance over to her right. She always hoped to
spot the singer wandering ethereally around the grounds in a
billowing white dress. She refused to believe that she was more
likely to be decked out in jeans and a sweatshirt, pulling weeds or
hanging out her washing like every other mere mortal. There was no
sign of Enya today and catching the husband beater’s eye, Jess
swiftly returned her gaze to the sea and shuddered. God, she hoped
she didn’t wind up like her. Still, at least the woman had a
husband whereas she was well on her way to spinsterdom. She’d
really have to help herself and get out and about more.
    Nora was
forever offering to escort her along to various speed-dating events
or 90s Dance Revival nights at her local pub but it was all a bit
of an effort these days—putting on her glad rags, only to be
jostled back and forth in a crowed pub. Or, if the lights were dim
enough, being chatted up by cubs in search of a bit of cougar
action. It was enough to make a girl feel cheap!
    Not Nora,
though. No, Nora was blatantly proactive in her search for a mate.
Her pretty soft blonde, blue-eyed features, breathy Monroe voice,
and petite build all combined to give men the false impression that
here was a woman who was in dire need of their protection. However,
having clawed her way up the professional ladder into a high-flying
career in cinema management, Nora was in actual fact what you could
call a strong woman. Or, to put it more plainly, she had a tendency
to frighten men off with her “say it like she saw it” manner
because they never saw it coming.
    Brianna and
Jess had referred to their friend fondly as the Praying Mantis—an
insect who bites the head off its mate after sex—ever since the
night they’d first borne witness to Nora in all her glory.
    The three women
had been propping the bar up in some pub buried deep in the cobbled
zone of Temple Bar when a chap had bravely stepped forth from the
crowd and offered to buy Nora a drink. She’d acquiesced like the
Queen accepting a bouquet of flowers from a commoner by going on to
order the most expensive drink on the menu. She’d then delved deep
into her handbag and just when the girls thought she would never
come up for air, she’d resurfaced, waving a business card as if she
had won the lotto. It wasn’t just any business card, mind; oh no,
it belonged to her dental hygienist.
    “She’ll sort
your halitosis out lickety-split, love,” she’d told the poor sod,
placing it in his shirt pocket before accepting the drink he
proffered and cheerily raising her glass.
    Brianna, by
contrast, reminded Jess of Bambi. She was pretty and sweet of
nature yet tall and gangly and her bobbed chocolate hair and big
round brown eyes suited her perfectly. Her olive skin colouring was
most definitely that of her ancestors—the Celts. Brianna was also
the first of the trio to say “I do” to anything other than the
offer of a drink and for the past seven years, she had been happily
married to Pete, who was both big and burly and loved the bones off
her.
    Five years ago,
Harry had arrived in the world and while his mother professed that
he drove her potty, he was a child Jess actually did really like.
He was by no means saintly—as Brianna often attested—but he had
such of sense of fun, not to mention a penchant for makeup. He was
a veritable magpie where cosmetics were concerned and when his two
spinster aunties, Jess and Nora, weren’t spoiling the little boy
rotten, they were keeping a tight hold of their makeup bags. “He’ll
grow out of it, Brie,” Jess had assured her the last time he had
been caught red-handed literally with her new Bobbi Brown lippy.
“Honestly, my nephew used to do some unspeakable