On the Blue Train Read Online Free Page A

you say? You’d need such doggedness.’
    ‘Yes.’ Her gaze was skittery, then languorous, always distant. ‘It would take place in plain view, yet be invisible—becauseso ordinary. But you’re right, it’d take forever and I suppose be rather dull.’
    She was an oddity. ‘One prefers a more colourful suicide?’ He was suddenly a little bilious.
    ‘Well, less tedious.’
    ‘You’re going to risk another cup, then?’
    ‘Yes, but I proceed with my eyes open.’
    He smiled and noted, slightly aghast, how unusual this arrangement of his physiognomy felt when it was spontaneous. The other occupants of the ballroom would be watching them, beginning to speculate as to the whys and wherefores of their conversation. Soon, if it hadn’t been already, the lack of a husband at her side would be remarked upon and subjected to deductions. As occurred in any small community somewhat removed from the wider world, gossip was a kind of drug among the sojourners at Harrogate, depended on to pass and variegate the time. Oh, it was handled with casual sophistication. The health spa’s shifting population was naturally or unnaturally considerably more cosmopolitan than that of the average smallish town, its members less prone to being scandalised and adept at cultured discretion. Most were champions of tactfully managed and—as necessary—incognito convalescence and leisure. Still, gossip was an indispensable diversion. No matter how worldly and refined a person, his own ailments and concerns will become so stale as to threaten to asphyxiate him. And he must turn elsewhere.
    The conversation petering out, Harry sensed Teresa preparing to take her leave and decided on detaining her. This was not typical of him. Despite his loneliness, he generally gave a wide berth to most of the hotel guests. ‘Will you be staying long at the Hydro? I’ve been here two weeks and plan to stay on another few.’ His plans were rarely very clear, Valeria’s legacy permitting him the luxury of being whimsical.
    ‘I’m not sure yet.’ She inspected her coffee as if it might delicately metamorphose. ‘What complaints bring you here?’ There was an interval while he was contriving a reply into which she hastily added, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude. It’s just that today someone asked me what my complaints were. One doesn’t necessarily come here for one’s health, of course.’
    He found this fluster fetching and remembered again the wispy little wave she’d accorded him the night before. ‘Intrude by all means.’
    He should have let her be. He’d learned how wrong it was to see a woman as a conundrum that could be resolved. He tried to focus on the infatuated lovers, who were the only remaining dancers. The others must have realised how they paled in comparison.
    He had an urge to be honest and succumbed. ‘The official answer would be a hernia.’ He took an ample sip of brandy. Endeavouring not to sound doleful, he continued, ‘The real,hopelessly unmanly answer is that I sometimes lose my nerve. I get quite—dispirited. When I’m like that I need a break.’
    She opened her mouth partially and closed it again. He thought he saw panic in her expression, as if honesty stipulated honesty in return. ‘Yes,’ she said finally. ‘Breaks are important. There are times when it’s wiser to get away.’ She cleared her throat softly. ‘From it all. The Jackmans aren’t here? I’m assuming you know them.’
    Over one temple, a glint of silver in her reddish hair. Thirty-four or -five, surely. At least.
    ‘You were right to assume. I believe they had a dinner engagement. Fine people.’
    ‘Yes, very. I wanted to tell them I’d been to the Royal Baths on their recommendation.’
    ‘I’m a habitué myself. Addicted. Nothing like a Turkish bath to clear out the cobwebs. Enjoy it?’
    ‘Rather. I may almost have fainted, at one stage.’
    Harry couldn’t have said just why but he began to ask himself whether they