Voices in Summer Read Online Free

way.'
    'No, I don't suppose it is.'
    'Do they mention Erica and Gabriel?'
    'Sometimes. But then there's an ugly silence, and somebody quickly starts another conversation.'
    'Perhaps you should bring up the subject yourself.'
    'Phyllis, how can I bring the subject up? How can I chat away about the glamorous Erica, who left Alec for another man? How can I talk about Gabriel, when Alec hasn't set eyes on her since the split-up?'
    'Does she write to him?'
    'No, but he writes to her. From the office. Once, his secretary forgot to put the letter in the post, and he brought it home with him. I saw the address, typewritten. I guessed then that he writes to her every week. But he doesn't ever seem to get one back. There are no photographs of Erica in the house, but there's one of Gabriel on his dressing table and a drawing she did for him when she was about five. It's in a silver frame, from Asprey's. I think if the house caught fire and he had to salvage one precious possession from the flames, that picture would be it.'
    'What he needs is another child,' said Phyllis firmly.
    'I know. But I may never have one.'
    'Of course you will.'
    'No.' Laura turned her head on the blue silk cushion and looked at Phyllis. 'I may not. After all, I'm nearly thirty-seven.'
    'That's nothing.'
    'And if this business with my insides blows up again, then Doctor Hickley says I'll have to have a hysterectomy.'
    'Laura, don't think about it.'
    ‘I do want a baby. I really do want one.'
    'It will be all right. This time, everything will be all right. Don't be depressed. Think positively. And as for the Ansteys and the Boulderstones, they'll understand. They're perfectly nice, ordinary people. I thought they were all charming when I met them at that lovely dinner party you gave for me.'
    Laura's smile was wry. 'Daphne, too?'
    'Of course, Daphne too,' said Phyllis stoutly. ‘I know she spent the evening flirting with Alec, but some women can't help behaving that way. Even if they are old enough to know better. You surely don't think there was ever anything between them?'
    'Sometimes, when I'm feeling blue, I wonder. . . . After Erica left him, Alec was on his own for five years.'
    'You must be mad. Can you see a man of Alec's integrity having an affair with his best friend's wife? I can't. You're underestimating yourself, Laura. And, which is infinitely more dangerous, you're underestimating Alec'
    Laura put her head back on the sofa cushion and closed her eyes. It was cooler now, but Lucy's weight lay like a hot-water bottle upon her lap. She said, 'What shall I do?'
    'Go home,' said Phyllis. 'Have a shower and put on the prettiest garment you own, and when Alec comes home, give him an iced martini and talk to him. And if he wants to give up his holiday and stay with you, then let him.'
    'But I want him to go. I really want him to go.'
    'Then tell him so. And tell him that if the worst comes to the worst, I'll cancel Florence, and you can come and stay with me.' 'Oh, Phyllis . . .'
    'But I'm certain he'll come up with some brilliant brainwave, and all this heart-searching will have been for nothing, so don't let's waste time talking any more about it.' She glanced at her watch. 'And now it's nearly four. What would you say to a delicious cup of China tea?'
    DEEPBROOK
    Alec Haverstock, ex-Winchester and Cambridge, investment analyst, manager of the Forbright Northern Investment Trust, and a director of the Merchant Bank, Sandberg Harpers, hailed – and some people found this surprising – from the heart of the West Country.
    He was born at Chagwell, the second son of a family that for three generations had farmed a thousand acres or so of land that lay on the western slopes of Dartmoor. The farmhouse was built of stone, long and low, with large rooms made to accommodate large families. Solid and comforting, it faced southwest, over sloping green pastures where the dairy herds of Guernsey grazed, and down to lush, arable fields and the reedy margins of the