The Lying Game Read Online Free Page A

‘Cross-country running as a dangerous sport? Flo-Mo, what are you like?’
    Florence tossed her head to clear her fringe from her eyes. It was a gesture she’d inherited from her father; moments later, Oliver did exactly the same thing.
    ‘They had to give me three pints of blood,’ she told him, a faint note of pride entering her voice. ‘The doctor said I was, like, bleeding out or something. They had to do a
blood test to see which type I am, which is A-plus, and—’
    ‘A-positive,’
Harriet corrected automatically, then kicked herself.
    Florence ignored her. ‘And I got to go in an ambulance and they put the sirens on, and we totally went down Main Street the wrong way. The boys will be so jealous.’
    Oliver laughed. ‘You’re not kidding.
I’m
jealous.’
    Watching them together, father and daughter, heads touching, reflecting an identical smile back at one another, Harriet felt a familiar sense of exclusion. She was the one who’d carried
Florence inside her for nine months, who’d literally made her from scratch; and yet it was Oliver to whom Florence turned, Oliver who shared a bond that went beyond flesh and blood. It
wasn’t that she resented the closeness between her husband and her daughter; far from it. It warmed her heart. She just wished that, for once, she could share it.
    ‘The doctor said if we’re lucky, it won’t scar too badly,’ Harriet murmured, drawing Oliver to one side. ‘The cut wasn’t terribly long, but it was deep.
He’s giving her some kind of cosmetic tape to put over the stitches once they come out, the kind the plastic surgeons use to try to prevent scars becoming keloid.’
    ‘Special tape, huh?’ Oliver said, turning to tweak Florence’s good toes.
    ‘The doctor said I’d be in a bikini by Spring Break,’ Florence said lightly. Only the slight tremor in her voice gave her away. ‘He reckons you’ll hardly be able to
see it in a year.’
    ‘That’s my girl.’ He dropped a kiss on her forehead. ‘I know you’re upset to be off the cross-country team, but you’ll be back up and about before you know
it. No real harm done in the end, eh?’
    Florence shook her head. Harriet saw how close she was to tears. No wonder, after all she’d been through today.
    She pulled her into a hug, and for once Florence didn’t seem to mind. ‘It’s going to be fine,’ she soothed, stroking her daughter’s fair hair. ‘Shhh.
It’s all going to be fine.’
    She’d move heaven and earth to make sure it was.

    Subject: Our daughter
    Date: 09/02/1998 11:58:36 P.M.
    From: [email protected]
    To: [email protected]
    Patrick – I thought you should know you have a baby daughter. She was born on 3rd February at 2 a.m., weighing 8lbs exactly. I’ve called
     her Nell, after my mother.
    I know you said you didn’t want to know anything about her, but I’m sure once you see her, you’ll feel differently. She looks so like you!
     She’s still a bit red and crumpled (I remember you once said all babies look like Churchill) but you can already see how beautiful she’s going to be. She has such long dark
     lashes! You can’t see it in the photo, but her eyes are grey right now, like mine. Maybe they’ll turn brown like yours when she gets a bit older.
    I wish you’d been there when she was born. I won’t bore you with the gruesome details, but I had to have an emergency Caesarean, which meant she spent her
     first day with strangers. But the nurses said she didn’t cry at all, which is more than you can say for me when I finally came round. I only got out of hospital this
     morning.
    I’m so sorry about what I said. I didn’t mean it. I never would’ve told your wife, you know that. I was just upset about you not wanting the baby,
     that’s all. Please, can’t we put the past behind us and at least try to be friends, for Nell’s sake?
    Before you ask, this has nothing to do with money. I don’t want anything. I’ve given up my studio in Camden and