Colleen McCullough - Angel

HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street London SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

Copyright © Colleen McCullough 2004

Colleen McCullough asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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Source ISBN: 9780007199754

Ebook Edition © JULY 2010 ISBN: 9780007405664

Version: 2017-08-14

For Max Lambert

Much loved friend

Cover Page

Title Page

Copyright

Friday, January 1st, 1960 (New Year’s Day)

Saturday, January 2nd, 1960

Monday, January 4th, 1960

Wednesday, January 6th, 1960

Thursday, January 7th, 1960

Friday, January 8th, 1960

Saturday, January 9th, 1960

Sunday, January 10th, 1960

Friday, January 15th, 1960

Saturday, January 16th, 1960

Wednesday, January 20th, 1960

Saturday, January 23rd, 1960

Sunday, January 24th, 1960

Wednesday, February 3rd, 1960

Saturday, February 6th, 1960

Monday, February 8th, 1960

Tuesday, February 16th, 1960

Wednesday, February 17th, 1960

Saturday, February 20th, 1960

Sunday, February 28th, 1960

Wednesday, March 2nd, 1960

Friday, March 11th, 1960

Monday, March 28th, 1960

Friday, April 1st, 1960 (April Fool’s Day)

Monday, April 4th, 1960

Thursday, April 7th, 1960

Monday, April 11th, 1960

Tuesday, April 12th, 1960

Monday, April 25th, 1960 (Anzac Day)

Tuesday, April 26th, 1960

Friday, April 29th, 1960

Sunday, May 1st, 1960

Wednesday, May 11th, 1960

Thursday, May 12th, 1960

Saturday, May 14th, 1960

Saturday, May 28th, 1960

Sunday, May 29th, 1960

Monday, May 30th, 1960

Monday, June 6th, 1960

Thursday, June 23rd, 1960

Tuesday, July 5th, 1960

Friday, July 22nd, 1960

Wednesday, August 24th, 1960

Sunday, September 11th, 1960

Monday, September 12th, 1960

Tuesday, September 13th, 1960

Wednesday, September 14th, 1960

Saturday, September 17th, 1960

Saturday, September 24th, 1960

Sunday, September 25th, 1960

Monday, September 26th, 1960

Wednesday, October 19th, 1960

Monday, November 7th, 1960

Friday, November 11th, 1960 (My Birthday)

Wednesday, November 23rd, 1960

Thursday, December 1st, 1960

Saturday, December 10th, 1960

Sunday, December 25th, 1960 (Christmas Day)

Wednesday, December 28th, 1960

Friday, December 30th, 1960

Sunday, January 1st, 1961 (New Year’s Day)

Monday, January 2nd, 1961

Tuesday, January 3rd, 1961

Thursday, January 5th, 1961

Saturday, January 7th, 1961

Monday, January 9th, 1961

Wednesday, January 11th, 1961

Friday, January 13th, 1961

Saturday, January 14th, 1961

Thursday, February 2nd, 1961

Monday, February 20th, 1961

Tuesday, February 21st, 1961

Wednesday, March 15th, 1961

Friday, March 24th, 1961

Tuesday, April 4th, 1961

Wednesday, April 5th, 1961

Monday, April 10th, 1961

Friday, April 21st, 1961

Wednesday, May 17th, 1961

Thursday, May 25th, 1961

Saturday, June 3rd, 1961

Keep Reading

About the Author

Also by Colleen McCullough

About the Publisher

How on earth can I get rid of David? Don’t think that I haven’t contemplated murder, but I wouldn’t get away with murder any more than I got away with the bikini I bought myself with the five quid Granny gave me for Christmas.

“Take it back, my girl, and bring home something one-piece with a modesty panel across the business area,” Mum said.

Truth to tell, I was a bit horrified when the mirror showed me how much of me that bikini put on display, including sideburns of black pubic hair I’d never noticed when they lurked behind a modesty panel. The very thought of plucking out a million pubic hairs sent me back to exchange the bikini for an Esther Williams model in the latest colour, American Beauty. Sort of a rich, reddish pink. The shop assistant said I looked ravishing in it, but who is going to ravish me, with David Bloody Murchison hovering over my carcass like a dog guarding a bone? Certainly not David Bloody Murchison!

It was up over the hundred today, so I went down to the beach to christen the new costume. The surf was running high, pretty unusual for Bronte, but the waves looked like green satin sausages—dumpers, no good for body surfing. I spread my towel on the sand, slathered zinc cream all over my nose, pulled on my matching American Beauty swim cap, and ran towards the water.

“It’s too rough to go in, you’ll get dumped,” said a voice.

David. David Bloody Murchison. If he suggests the safety of the kids’ bogey hole, I thought, girding my modesty-panelled loins, there is going to be a fight.

“Let’s go round to the bogey hole, it’s safe,” he said.

“And get flattened by kids bombing us? No!” I snarled, and launched into the fight. Though “fight” is not the correct word. I yell and carry on, David just looks superior and refuses to bite. But today’s fight produced a new rocket—I finally got up the gumption to inform him that I was tired of being a virgin.

“Let’s have an affair,” I said.

“Don’t be silly,” he said, unruffled.

“I am not being silly! Everybody I know has had an affair—except me! Dammit, David, I’m twenty-one, and here I am engaged to a bloke who won’t even kiss me with his mouth open!”

He patted me gently on one shoulder and sat down on his towel. “Harriet,” he announced in that toffee-nosed, super-genteel Catholic boys’ college voice of his, “it’s time we set a wedding date. I have my doctorate, the C.S.I.R.O. has offered me my own lab and a research grant, we’ve been going out together for four years, and engaged for one. Affairs are a sin. Marriage isn’t.”

Grr!

“Mum, I want to break off my engagement to David!” I said to her when I got home from the beach, my new costume unbaptised.

“Then tell him so, dear,” she said.

“Have you ever tried telling David Murchison that you don’t want to marry him any more?” I demanded.