Читать книгу The Little Book Café - Georgia Hill - Страница 20

Tash woke up the following morning with a sore head and a gritty mouth. She couldn’t believe how hungover she felt after only a few cocktails. Staggering into the shower, she blasted herself with water as cold as she could stand. She regarded her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Even through the condensation she could see shadows under her eyes and a face that was too thin. Gripping the basin, she vomited suddenly and copiously. ‘Never again,’ she croaked. ‘I’m going teetotal.’ Leaning forward she wiped the mirror but she didn’t look much better. Her reflection was still misty and hazy round the edges. It was a bit like her sense of herself; she felt the true Natasha Taylor was slipping away.

‘You look awful!’ was Emma’s greeting as Tash walked into the office.

‘Thanks, Em.’ Tash sank onto her chair.

‘Too many of Millie’s cocktails last night?’

‘I don’t think so. I didn’t drink that much.’

‘Might be the bug that’s doing the rounds. Stevie says half his friends have gone down with it.’

Of course, that was why she was feeling so ill. Tash leaned back in relief. It explained why she felt so out of it. Maybe even explained why she had such a hazy memory of the party.

‘You enjoyed yourself last night then? Saw you talking to Kit. Really nice man.’

‘Yes, he is.’ Tash sat up slowly. ‘Em, was I out of order?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Did I seem too drunk?’

Emma shook her head. ‘Nah, don’t think so. You seemed normal drunk. Bit tipsy. Having a good time.’

Tash took a deep breath. This was mortifying. ‘I didn’t do anything too outrageous then?’

‘Not that I saw.’ Emma shrugged. ‘But I went to sit on the beach for a bit. I got hot – if you know what I mean.’ She winked. ‘Me and Ol have to make the most of any opportunity we can.’

‘I didn’t … I didn’t do anything like read the naughty bits out of books?’

Emma hooted. ‘Wouldn’t put it past you but, like I said, I was otherwise occupied with erotic thoughts of my own. You just looked like you were having a good time, Tash. Why all the questions?’

Tash didn’t reply. She was too embarrassed to press Emma on the matter. A wave of nausea overwhelmed her and she shot off to the bathroom.

When she returned Emma insisted she go home, assuring her she would cope with any appointments booked and would cancel those she couldn’t cover. Steering Tash towards the door, she said, ‘And if management don’t like that, they can sodding well put in another person. We’ve been saying for months we can’t cope with just the two of us now Pete has been promoted. You alright to drive home? If not, I can drop you off on the way to the Smiths’ place.’

Tash nodded and staggered up the hill to where she’d parked her car half an hour earlier. She was never ill. She fumed to herself, – she couldn’t afford to take time off.

The estate was deserted when she drove onto the drive. The house seemed hushed and slightly disapproving as she padded upstairs, took off her work clothes and sank into bed.

She came to a few hours later feeling much better and, to her surprise, hungry. Taking some dry toast and a glass of water into the garden, she sat in the shade. It was hot and the cloudless blue sky hurt her eyes. Going back in to find her sunglasses, she was distracted by the plop of a letter onto the doormat. The post. She was rarely at home when it arrived. Adrian was more often back from work before her and he put her post on the kitchen island. Not that she got all that much. Picking up the letter she frowned. It was to a Mrs Anna Williams. Right address, though. She flipped it over but there was no clue where it had come from. Probably a rookie postie seeing the surname and assuming it was for them. Williams was a common enough surname. Putting it on the kitchen table she found her sunglasses and went back to the garden. She’d investigate later and return it to the sender.

Adrian got back from work early. When she told him, she thought she had a stomach bug his attitude changed. He fussed over her, insisted she return to bed and said he’d go to his meeting on his own. Tash gave in to him with relief; the dinners with his business contacts were excruciatingly boring. She went back to bed, slept for another two hours and woke up feeling her old self. Coming downstairs in her dressing gown to watch some mindless television, she noted without interest that the misdirected letter had disappeared. Adrian must have dealt with it.