Читать книгу Perfect Strangers: an unputdownable read full of gripping secrets and twists - Erin Knight - Страница 9

3

Isobel startled at the sound of the woman behind the counter banging away at the coffee machine. A baby began to cry over near the other window. She felt a wave of purpose wash through her, then noted the Free Wifi sign framed and hanging on the far brick wall like a gift waiting to be stolen. All those thoughts swelled somewhere at the bottom of her like a rising threat. The doubt. The ridiculousness of her goals.

She clasped her writing pad like a religious scripture.

Base Camp 1. Simple enough. Home. Home was Base Camp 1.

She scribbled the next few lines of writing as if indenting them into the page made them more achievable somehow.

2 - Job

3 - Friends

4 - Partner/Family

5 - Reputation

6 -

The pen flicked free of her grasp, skittering to the floor.

‘Whoops, nearly.’ A pair of expensive deck shoes arrived where Isobel reached. Their owner scooped up her biro and offered it back to her with a smile. She noticed it now, his boyish handsomeness, but still it didn’t matter. She mustered a polite smile in return.

‘Thanks.’

‘No problem. A woman after my own heart.’

‘Sorry?’ He was older than Isobel but only a decade or so, and in that way that seemed to benefit the male sex and leave the females worrying about crows’ feet and dermal fillers.

He nodded at her notepad. ‘A list-maker. The world is divided into us and them, you know. The list-makers and the billionaires, according to Forbes.’

Isobel grimaced. She would definitely be worrying about crows’ feet one day. Probably very soon. ‘Sorry, I don’t follow.’

‘Forbes. According to them, the ultra-successful tend not to make lists. I can’t function without them myself. Good luck with yours, maybe you’ll buck the trend?’ Isobel watched his eyes travel to the tabletop. Oh no, was he? Bugger, he was, he was skim-reading her list. She fought against slapping a hand over her pad like a child hiding the answers to a test and glugged another mouthful of tepid tea instead. ‘Looks pretty aspirational. Hope you get to tick it all off soon.’

‘Thanks.’

‘I moved to Fallenbay with similar goals. It’s a great place.’ Isobel went with another smile. ‘See you then.’

‘Bye.’ Her breathing relaxed as soon as he turned. She studied her list, the blank spot waiting next to Base Camp 6. Was it a base camp? Or was it the summit? What was it she was hoping to achieve here in Fallenbay exactly? A Happily Ever After? She was thinking on this point very carefully when something blew up in the kitchen.

‘Evie! I told you to watch that thing today!’

Isobel stopped listening to the crisis over the exploding microwave. She was zoned out. Focused. Determined again.

Home. Job. Friends. Partner/Family. Reputation.

It was an aspirational list, he was right. It was just missing one final and integral point. Item 6. She penned it in without hesitation and a wave of calmness washed over her. If Sophie was going to watch her go down this route, then this would be Isobel’s consolation prize. The best she could shoot for. The second summit. This would be what she wouldn’t leave this shiny, clean, brochure-ready town without having first crossed off her list.

She clamped her pen between her fingers.

Base Camp 6.

SUMMIT: Criminal record.