The Judas Scar Read Online Free

weekend, drinking cans of lager and eating sausages cooked on a cheap disposable barbecue. She picked it up and smiled, stroking her fingers lightly over the faces in the photograph. They were all so young, so full of optimism and possibility. She stared at her own face. She was plumper back then, not overweight, but fuller, her face less angular, but even so she still looked masculine, she thought. Will’s mother had once described her as handsome and it was a good description. Her face was symmetrical with an aquiline nose, high forehead and pronounced cheekbones. That day her hair was brushed back into a ponytail and she remembered Will kissing the nape of her neck as she bent to blow air on the struggling barbecue. When she’d turned to smile at him he’d mouthed: I love you . A few hours earlier, holding each other in two sleeping bags zipped together to make one, he’d asked her to marry him. She remembered the thrill she’d felt, lying in his arms in the sun-warmed tent, looking at him with tears in her eyes and nodding.
    ‘But you’re so young,’ Emma had said as they watched the boys throwing a rugby ball down by the water’s edge. ‘Why get engaged at twenty-two? I mean, what’s the point? How do you know it’s right? That he’s The One?’
    Harmony had laughed. ‘There’s no such thing as The One! It’s a ridiculous notion. Your The One might be in India or Papua New Guinea if that was the case and you’d never, ever meet him. And anyway, I know Will’s right for me and it’s not like we’ve just met. We’ve been together ages and he’s funny and unusual and we have amazing sex.’ She grinned at Emma and then turned back to watch Will catch a high ball and fall backwards onto the sand in a fit of laughter, his strong forearms browned by the sun, his scruffy blond hair falling over his face. ‘And I love him, Em. I really, really love him, so much I feel I might actually explode.’
    Then Will’s words echoed in her head like a spectral prophesy.
    And you’re sure you’re okay with not having children? Because you know that won’t change, Harmony. Promise me you understand.
    ‘Yes,’ she’d said, kissing him full on the lips. ‘I understand.’
    But she hadn’t understood, not properly. She only really understood the day she lost her baby.
    ‘Are you waiting?’ The voice startled her. She turned to see a man behind her. He was very good looking, medium height and slim build with chiselled, tanned features and thick dark hair swept back off his face. He wore a crisp white shirt that was open at the neck, no tie, no jacket. His eyes were dark, almost black, and he looked at her with such directness she felt herself blush.
    ‘Sorry?’ she said, putting the photograph back on the table.
    ‘Are you waiting to use the loo?’ He pointed at the cloakroom. She looked and saw the door open, an array of scented candles flickering inside.
    ‘Oh, yes, I am actually, but I’m not desperate so go ahead if you’d like.’
    He smiled a broad and generous smile. ‘No, after you. I’m not,’
    he paused, ‘desperate, either.’
    Harmony blushed again. ‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I’ll be quick.’ He appeared amused. ‘Take all the time you need.’
    As she walked into the cloakroom she turned and mumbled another thank you before closing the door behind her. Harmony looked at herself in the mirror and shook her head; had she really just told that man she’d be quick? She smiled. It felt good to have the appreciative eye of a handsome stranger. She didn’t need to use the loo so instead she rifled through the basket of products that Emma had left beside the basin: a hair brush, hairspray, a choice of lip glosses, perfume, a powder compact, and even a small case of expensive bronzing powder and a big fluffy brush to apply it. Had it been her own party she’d have forgotten to check there was toilet roll let alone provide the contents of a chemist for her guests to use. She dragged the