Anne Mather - Devil In Velvet

For all she was tired, Harriet did not sleep well. She had too many things to think about, not least what she intended doing next day. Susan, lying curled up in her sleeping bag beside her, obviously had no such anxieties, and Harriet envied her her ability to leave her problems to solve themselves.

But where did that leave her? What could she do, knowing how distressed Susan would be if she insisted on selling the house? And how long might it take to negotiate another sale even if her money was instantly forthcoming? Charles had only given her eight weeks’ leave of absence, and besides, Susan had to return to school in September.

There seemed nothing for it but to remain where she was, however distasteful to her that might be. It was only eight weeks, and surely, once they were satisfactorily settled there would be no need for them to see André Laroche. It wasn’t as if they had any rent to pay, and no doubt his wife would soon object if he started paying undue attention to the new owners. Was she so unsure of herself and her feelings that she must succumb to the absurd and cowardly notion to flee? The past was dead; the pain she was experiencing was the vulnerability of an old wound that had suddenly been scratched by a heavy and insensitive hand. And like all injuries, exposure to the air might effect the swiftest cure. But nothing could convince her that she would ever feel anything but hatred and contempt for the man who had awakened her so rudely to the cruel facts of life.

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