Lady of Hay Barbara Erskine (reading books for 7 year olds TXT) 📖

water, watching the gulls wheeling and diving in the wake of a police launch as it churned westward.

"The trouble is, I have a feeling that in that previous life of ours he hated me. "

"You do know who he was, then?"

Tim had almost to run to keep up with her as she began to walk faster and faster. Then she stopped dead, staring unseeing toward the Festival Hall across the glittering water.

"But it's not real, Tim, " she said at last. "That part of it is not real. "

Tim clenched his fists in his pockets as she began walking once more, but he said nothing. It wasn't until they reached Westminster that she stopped again.

She turned to him at last. "You'll have to take the subway back if you're going to make it by two. I'm sorry. I've made you late. "

He nodded.

"Tim"—she caught his hands—"Tim, that night in Raglan. I'm glad it happened. "

He smiled at her. "So am I, Jo. " The smile broadened. "I owe destiny one now. "

"Perhaps in our next life...?"

He laughed out loud. "It's a date. "

He stood watching as she dodged across the road and jumped on a bus as it moved up the road, then he turned toward the steps that led to the station near Westminster Pier. His smile had died as swiftly as it had come.

"No! No! No!" Bet slammed her fist on her desk, making the pens jump up in the air. "No, you can't tear up that contract! I won't let you! If you try to wriggle out of this I'll see your name is mud with every magazine in the country!"

Jo sat tight-lipped in front of her. "Look, for God's sake, be reasonable!"

"I am being reasonable! I have offered you as much time as you need. I've promised you a monumental fee. I've offered any research facilities you care to name. I arranged for one of London's top photographers to go with you to Wales. I will do any goddamn thing you like, Jo, but I want that series! What's wrong, anyway? Is it Nick? He's put you up to this, hasn't he, the bastard! Or is it that you are afraid of him?" Her eyes were probing suddenly. "You didn't tell me what happened in Wales. "

Jo looked away. "Not much, " she said guardedly. "Look, Bet, please. You won't get me to change my mind—"

"Then you've got to give me a good reason for your decision. Did Nick threaten you?"

Shaking her head, Jo sighed. "On the contrary. He told me he loved me. "

"But! There has to be a but!"

Jo smiled. "You're right, of course. There are so many buts. Even so, I want to go to New York to be with him. "

Bet groaned. "Jo, do you know what the temperature in New York was yesterday? It was ninety-four degrees with a humidity of ninety percent. Are you serious about going? You've only to touch another human being and you both die of nuclear fusion. "

Jo laughed. "Isn't it fission? If I remember, they've got pretty efficient air-conditioning over there—"

"Passion flourishes on the streets, " Bet said darkly. With her customary impatience she stood up and went to her favorite stance by the window. "If it's not Nick, then something else has happened to frighten you off, " she said over her shoulder.

"Yes. "

"Are you going to tell me what?"

"I don't think so, Bet. Let's just say that I'm worried about my sometimes tenuous grip on sanity. "

Bet laughed. "Oh, that!"

"Yes, that. I'm not doing it, Bet. And you know you can't make me. That contract only bound me to exclusivity. "

Bet threw herself back into her chair. She took a deep breath. "Okay, I tell you what. Let's both go away and think about it, and in the meantime you can do me a favor to put me in a good mood. "

Jo relaxed a little, but even so she eyed Bet suspiciously. It was not like her to surrender so easily. "What favor?"

"I'm planning to run an article about a fellow called Ben Clements and his wife. He is one of these self-sufficiency buffs. The types you were about to try to discredit in your original series. Back to nature, nostalgia—everything modern and chemical and easy is bad. Everything old and muddy and difficult is good. How would you like to go and interview them for me? I want a nice three pages with pictures. But not Tim Heacham this time, please. I can't afford it. "

"I've heard of Clements, " Jo said thoughtfully. "He lives up in the Lake District somewhere, doesn't he?"

Bet looked vague. "I heard he's moved. I'll call up the file if you're interested. "

Jo smiled. "Okay. If I can do it straight away I will, just to put you in that good mood. Then I'll go to New York. "

Bet leaned forward and pressed the buzzer on her desk. "Sue? Get the Ben Clements file, would you?" She glanced over her glasses at Jo. "You won't back out of this?"

"I won't back out of it. " Jo stood up. "You've got to try to understand about the other thing, Bet. It's not just a series of articles. It's me, and I can't be objective about what's happening anymore. "

The door opened and Bet's secretary appeared with a manila folder. She grinned at Jo as she put it on Bet's desk.

Bet flipped open the file. In it were one or two cuttings, some notes, and a photograph. She passed the photo to Jo. "There he is, a nice old boy by the look of him. "

Jo studied the face before her. Ben Clements looked as if he were in his early sixties, his hair and beard white, his face tanned and wrinkled, netted with a thousand laughter lines.

"I gather he has a young wife, and hers is the angle we want, of course. Here"—Bet thrust the file at her—"stick that in your bag and work on it when