Playing the Game. Barbara Taylor Bradford

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Playing the Game - Barbara Taylor Bradford

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sorry, don’t get upset. And I do know how sincere you were about my coming. But I see things differently to you at times, Annette. I didn’t want to be a burden. And look, I didn’t want you to have questions to answer later. About me. People asking you why I was in a wheelchair, et cetera, et cetera. All that nonsense. I’ve told you before, you don’t need a cripple hanging on to your apron strings—’

      ‘Don’t say that, you know how I hate you to say that!’ Annette exclaimed, her voice rising.

      ‘But I am a cripple, no two ways about it. I was in a bad car crash and now I’m a paraplegic.’

      ‘You’ve lost the use of your legs, yes, but you survived. The others died, and you’re still a beautiful woman. Intelligent, charming, and clever, and you are not an embarrassment to me. Nor to Marius. Besides, you’ve been with us on many occasions with friends and—’

      ‘Very close friends,’ Laurie interjected.

      Annette continued, ‘And there’s never been any problem.’

      ‘That’s quite true. The birthday party was different, though, you’d invited two hundred people, and they’d all accepted. I knew it would be a heavy-duty evening for you.’

      ‘I would have put you at my table, or with Marius, and you know so many of our close friends, like Malcolm and David, Johnny Davenport. You’d have been perfectly fine.’

      Laurie smiled. ‘I know. Don’t go on about it. Please. Look, I preferred not to come.’ Laurie made a face. ‘It would have been quite an effort for me, actually.’

      ‘Are you all right? You’re not feeling ill, are you?’

      ‘No, I’m not ill. Listen, it would have been a bit tough for me, that’s all, the crowds, lots of people I don’t know.’ She gave her sister another loving smile, her eyes reassuring. Laurie had not gone because she had not wanted to be a reminder of the bad days, not on this particularly special night in Annette’s life. But then a name from the past had done that. Unfortunately. Taking a deep breath, Laurie said, ‘Please tell me about the party. And don’t you dare miss out one detail.’

      

      There were not many people about as Annette walked next to Laurie in the motorized wheelchair, crossing Eaton Square, making for their flat on the far corner. But then it was cold, breezy, a typical early March day, with a hint of rain in the air. People stayed home on days like this.

      They were moving along at a fairly quick pace, both wanting to get inside, into the warmth. She glanced up at one moment and was startled to see that the sky had changed in the last hour she had been at her sister’s flat. It had become a deeper, brighter blue.

      ‘We’ve suddenly got a Renoir sky,’ she exclaimed, glancing at her sister. ‘It was pale, almost grey, earlier.’

      Laurie lifted her eyes, and nodded. ‘Yes, it is that lovely blue he used for his own skies and bodies of water, and frequently for the dresses he painted on his incomparable women.’ Swivelling her head, she looked up at Annette, and smiled. ‘Only you would call it a Renoir sky.’

      ‘I know. But then he is my favourite Impressionist.’

      ‘And mine. And of course Rembrandt’s a favourite now! Let’s face it, he’s a painter who has been lucky for you. Does Christopher Delaware have any more tucked away in his house?’

      ‘If only.’ Annette laughed.

      ‘He might find some other treasure put away, you know,’ Laurie ventured. ‘Collectors like his peculiar uncle often bought paintings and simply stashed them away, hid them. Because they didn’t want anyone else to look at them.’

      ‘That sometimes did happen, and it still does. However, I imagine that by now Christopher has scoured that house from top to bottom.’

      ‘You bet he has.’ Laurie suddenly shivered, turned up the collar of her coat, brought her scarf to her chin, fumbling with the scarf through her cashmere gloves.

      Annette, who missed nothing when it came to her sister’s wellbeing, asked swiftly, ‘Are you feeling the cold?’

      ‘No, not too much. And I’m glad to be out and about with you. Thank you for taking the day off to spend it with me.’

      ‘I’m happy to be with you. A whole day with you is one of my real luxuries.’

      Her sister smiled at this comment, snuggled into her coat, and let her gaze wander around Eaton Square. ‘The trees are sad today – bereft, lifeless. Twigs in the wind. This is such a beautiful square, but I must admit I like it best in the summer when the gardens are filled with leafy branches. They make such a lovely cool green tent over our heads when we picnic there.’ Laurie let out a long sigh. ‘I’ll be glad when spring comes; it’s been a dreary, weary winter.’

      ‘We’ll go somewhere warm soon. In the spring. We’ll make plans,’ Annette assured her, love echoing in her voice for her only relative. Well, there was their brother, Anthony, but he was long gone from their lives. Who knew where he was, and their parents were dead. They only had each other. She’s enough, Annette thought. She has such a big heart and so much to give. She’s strong and determined and filled with compassion for others; then there’s her bravery and courage, and her selflessness. Yes, she’s enough. She might be petite and delicate but she packs a wallop. Also, Laurie was her good right hand, a brilliant researcher and an integral part of her art business.

      ‘Here we are,’ Annette exclaimed a moment or two later.

      Annette now came to a stop in front of a dark green front door, turned the wheelchair around, backed up the two steps, pulling the wheelchair after her. Once she was on the top step, she rang the intercom bell which had the brass nameplate engraved with the name Remmington next to it.

      ‘It’s us,’ she answered when Marius’s disembodied voice echoed down to them.

      There was a loud buzz and a click; Annette pushed the door open, and Laurie took control of her chair again once they were in the hall of the building. She headed straight for the lift. A few seconds later they were on the landing, where Marius was standing at the open door of the flat.

      Beaming at Laurie, he leaned over her, kissed her cheek. ‘Hello, sweetheart,’ he said warmly. ‘Let’s get you in front of the fire. Your face looks pinched.’

      ‘It’s lovely to see you, Marius,’ Laurie responded, removing her gloves and scarf, shrugging herself out of her coat. After pulling the coat out from under her sister, Annette went to hang it up.

      Marius said, ‘We’ll go into the living room, darling.’

      ‘Good idea. I’ll be with you in a moment.’

      Laurie loved this large, beautifully proportioned room, overlooking Eaton Square, with its tall windows and a white marble fireplace at one end. The colour scheme was a mixture of yellows, which gave it a sunny feeling whatever the weather outside, and the accent colours were blue and white. A fire was burning brightly in the hearth and the scent of flowers was fragrant on the air. There were bowls filled with blooms scattered about, but Laurie knew Annette always used Ken Turner’s scented candles throughout the flat to get the proper effect she wanted.

      Once

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