Bobby's Girl Read Online Free Page A

required. It will be on the desk. If you or Harriet need me, I’ll be on the beach.’
    Robert whistled for Czar, lifted the dog’s lead from its hook, left the house and locked the door. Tim had a duplicate key. He headed for the beach and the fence that separated the Brosna section from its neighbours. When he reached it, he leant against it and looked along the coast.
    Few people arrived this early to summer on the Cape, so most of the fences that prevented people wandering from the public beaches on to the private hadn’t been replaced after the winter storms.
    In the distance he could see the masts of the boats in the dry dock. Somewhere among them was the Day Dream . The Robert Brosna who’d ordered the schooner to be custom-built in the Thirties had more money than imagination, christening it after Percy Blakeney’s yacht in The Scarlet Pimpernel .
    He had to admit the name suited the vessel. Looking back that’s how he remembered that summer of 1968. An idyllic daydream. Life as it should be lived, until death had intruded and shattered the illusion.
    If only the four of them had known that it couldn’t last … they could have … what? Prepared for the tragedy?
    If they had, would they have lived out those months any differently? And, would the outcome have hurt any the less? 

C HAPTER T HREE
Penycoedcae Pontypridd, May 1987
    Penny John heard a footstep on the gravel path outside her window and turned away from the canvas she’d been studying. Brian knocked on the door and walked straight in. It was the Pontypridd way. He sniffed the air and dropped his postman’s bag.
    â€˜You’re a lifesaver, Pen. I’d never finish my round without a dose of your coffee to send me on my way.’
    â€˜So, it’s my coffee you love, not me.’ She filled a mug and added sugar and milk to his taste. ‘You’re early today.’
    â€˜Mondays generally bring a lighter load.’ He sat on a cane chair that faced the french doors that opened into the garden. ‘You’ve one to sign for today. From America. You selling to New York publishers and galleries now?’ he fished.
    She stirred his coffee and handed it to him. ‘I wish.’
    â€˜Could be someone who’s seen your work and wants to offer you a commission?’
    Penny glanced out of the window. ‘There’s a red dragon flying towards Beddau.’
    â€˜Very funny.’
    â€˜Want a biscuit?’ She offered him a tin.
    â€˜Don’t I always after I’ve walked up Penycoedcae Hill? I swear it’s getting longer and steeper. Either that or my legs are getting shorter.’
    â€˜It’s your legs getting shorter. Old age does that to you,’ she teased.
    Penny and Brian had begun their education in the same babies’ class in Maesycoed Primary School and had been good, if not close friends ever since the teacher made Penny say ‘sorry’ to him for painting his face blue. ‘Miss’ had refused to take into account the fact that Brian had been willing and sat still while Penny wielded the brush.
    â€˜If you’re talking about old age you can speak for yourself,’ he countered.
    â€˜You can’t escape it, Brian. The big four-O is looming for both of us.’
    â€˜Not for another year.’ He opened the biscuit tin and made a face. ‘Ginger nuts. Haven’t you any chocolate?’
    â€˜Andy ate the last of them yesterday.’
    â€˜Tell Andy from me, he’s a greedy boy.’
    â€˜Growing boy more like.’ Penny glanced through the window across the lawn and into her parents’ conservatory. Her eighteen-year-old son was breakfasting with her father as he did most mornings. The newspaperwas spread on the table around them and they were laughing.
    Penny refilled her own coffee mug and sat next to Brian. He usually turned up between seven and half past and she rarely began any serious work until after