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Authors: Pamela Fudge

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I’d
had
no
cause
to
regret
the
decision
I’d
made
all
that
time
ago

had
even
allowed
myself
for
years
to
believe
the
lie
that
I
lived
every
day

right
up
until
the
past
had
come
back
to
haunt
me
in
the
guise
of
the
man
who
was
the
possible

probable

father
of
my
child.

Now
the
unsafe
foundation
of
sand
I
had
built
my
perfect
family
life
upon
was
shifting
alarmingly,
causing
great
cracks
to
appear
in
the
not
so
solid
foundations
of
that
life,
and
I
knew
I
had
to
do
something
before
everything
I
held
dear
fell
apart
around
me.
Above
all
I
had
to
protect
my
son,
because
William
was
the
one
total
innocent
in
all
of
this.

As
the
first
fingers
of
the
dawn
light
reached
through
the
gap
in
the
curtain
I
had
formulated
a
plan
that
involved
finding
and
confronting
the
Adonis,
because
until
I
did
I
had
absolutely
no
idea
what

exactly
-
he
wanted.

 

Chapter 13

 

How
do
you
set
about
finding
a
man
you
had
just
the
one
intimate
encounter
with
several
years
ago,
when
you
have
only
a
first
name
and
a
few
vague
details
to
go
on?
Well,
as
I
quickly
discovered,
it
wasn’t
going
to
be
easy
and
it
wasn’t
going
to
be
possible
to
devote
the
time
I
would
have
liked
to
the
search,
either,
because
there
was
too
much
else
going
on.

With
the
arrival
of
September
the
orders
for
celebration
cakes
suddenly
increased
in
such
quantities
that,
for
the
first
time,
I
began
to
seriously
consider
hiring
some
regular
help
in
the
form
of
an
assistant.
Besides
Christmas,
plus
all
the
usual
birthday
and
anniversary
celebrations,
it
suddenly
seemed
that
Halloween
and
even
bonfire
night
were
reason
enough
to
throw
a
party
and,
apparently,
no
party
was
complete
without
the
appropriate
cake
for
the
occasion.
I
had
never
been
so
busy.

Added
to
that,
with
the
start
of
a
new
school
year
imminent,
shopping
for
as
yet
un-purchased
items
of
uniform
for
Will
became
a
matter
of
urgency
and,
because
I’d
been
so
distracted
and
had
left
it
so
late,
sourcing
said
items
took
far
longer
than
they
should
and
Will’s
aversion
to
shopping

even
when
it
was
for
him

didn’t
help.

This
left
me
little
time
to
search
for
the
elusive
Adonis,
especially
as
I
had
to
be
careful
not
to
arouse
Jon’s
suspicions.
The
fact
I
wasn’t
being
anywhere
near
careful
enough
was
brought
home
to
me
with
a
shocking
start
when
I
very
nearly
got
caught
red-handed.

Not
realising
the
time,
I
had
foolishly
left
the
lap-top
open
after
Googling
rugby
players
named
Gareth,
while
I
went
to
check
on
a
cake
that
had
just
about
finished
baking.
I
had
my
back
to
the
door,
all
of
my
attention
on
lifting
the
cake
carefully
from
the
oven
and,
in
that
moment,
Jon
came
wandering
into
the
room
after
work
looking
for
Will
and
me.

‘What’s
this
sudden
interest
in
rugby
players,
then?’
Jon
asked,
sounding
amused.

He
had
obviously
glanced
at
the
screen
as
he
passed
and
was
merely
curious,
but
the
shock
of
his
question
almost
caused
me
to
drop
the
large
fruit
cake
on
its
journey
from
the
oven
to
the
cooling
rack.
I
deliberately
took
my
time
setting
down
the
cake,
but
when
I
turned
towards
him
I
was
aware
my
face
was
still
flaming,
but
hoped
he
would
put
it
down
to
the
heat.

‘Rugby
players?’
I
repeated,
carefully
suppressing
the
horrified
squeak
that
threatened
to
make
itself
heard
in
my
voice.

‘Mmm,’
he
said,
‘you’ve
got
a
page
of
them
up
on
here.’
He
indicated
the
open
lap-top.
‘Not
thinking
of
taking
it
up,
are
you?’
He
didn’t
sound
at
all
concerned,
in
fact
barely
interested
at
all,
and
just
making
light
conversation.

I
matched
my
careless
tone
to
his.
‘Oh,
yeah,’
I
said,
‘one
of
the
eighteenth
birthday
cakes
I
have
among
my
orders
is
for
a
rugby
playing
lad.
I
thought
I
could
make
a
run-out
from
icing
that
looked
like
a
real
rugby
player.
You
know,
to
put
on
top.
It
was
just
a
thought

they
all
look
much
the
same
actually

especially
when
you
put
one
of
those
daft
hats
on
them.’

‘Ten
foot
tall
and
muscle-bound,’
Jon
guessed,
laughing,
before
turning
his
attention
to
where
Will
was
making
a
creditable
attempt
of
creating
a
lion
cub
out
of
left-over
marzipan.

While
they
were
both
bent
over
with
their
heads
together,
intent
on
viewing
the
animal
critically
from
this
way
and
that,
I
took
the
opportunity
to
log
off
of
the
internet
and
close
the
laptop
lid
with
a
serious
reminder
to
myself
to
be
far
more
careful
in
future.

I
had
quickly
discovered
how
common
the
name
Gareth
seemed
to
be
among
the
rugby
playing
fraternity.
Most
club,
however
small,
appeared
to
have
at
least
one,
especially
those
in
Wales,
but
I
was
completely
certain
that
none
of
those
pictured
was
my
Gareth.

BOOK: Least Said
2.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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