Free The Winter Folly by Lulu Taylor

this?
    Arthur appeared, a tubby man wearing his braces over his shirt, and took the two larger cases while Laurence brought the smaller bags, and they followed him up the staircase and along a hall to
room eight.
    When they were left alone in their bedroom, Alexandra noticed that there were two beds separated by a slim night table with a pink china lamp on it. She stared at them. What did this mean? Were
they going to be sleeping apart? A shimmer of relief went through her and she let out a long, slow breath. She’d been holding it, she realised, as they’d come through the door.
    Into the chamber
, she thought, obscurely wondering if she were quoting something. A bridal chamber. And then she wanted to laugh. This was her bridal chamber! A greasy-walled, shabby
little room with a view of a patch of shingle and an inky smear of sea. Laurence was standing by the window staring out at it. As her gaze landed on him, he took out a packet of cigarettes and lit
one, turning to face her as he exhaled a cloud of grey smoke.
    ‘Are you hungry?’
    It was the first thing he’d said to her for a long time. ‘I . . . yes . . . Yes, I am.’ She realised that she’d barely eaten all day. Her breakfast had been lost down the
lavatory and she hadn’t had the stomach for asparagus rolls.
    ‘So am I,’ Laurence replied. He took a small strand of tobacco off his tongue and then smiled at her. ‘I don’t think they do dinner here. Let’s go and see what we
can find.’
    They went out into the already darkening evening and found a small restaurant where they ate fish and chips on china plates as they talked politely about the day, and then a dry, dusty-tasting
strawberry meringue. After they’d both had a cup of coffee, they walked very slowly back along the road towards their boarding house. Laurence reached out and took her hand, putting it over
his arm and holding it in his. His mood seemed to have turned tender.
    ‘You looked very pretty today,’ he said in a confiding tone, his gaze sliding over to her.
    ‘Did I?’ She was surprised. It hadn’t occurred to her to wonder if he had responded to her in that way. She had just hoped that she looked right, rather than pretty.
    ‘The other men were jealous, I could see that.’ He sounded pleased about it.
    She remembered Robert Sykes’ face pressed up close to hers, the sight of the inside of his nostrils, and felt a wave of nausea. She clutched Laurence’s arm tighter and looked up at
him. He was suddenly handsome to her, with his fair hair carefully combed and his pale face. He seemed clean and neat and honourable, not like his brother in the least. She felt safe with him and a
rush of affection for him coursed through her.
    My husband
, she thought, still wonderingly.
This is my husband.
She smiled back up at him. ‘I’m glad I made you proud,’ she replied.
    ‘You did. Very.’ He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. His mouth was cool from the night breeze. ‘And here we are.’
    She wanted, in this moment of sudden intimacy, to ask him why he had chosen this strange guest house but before she could frame the question, they were walking up the steps and Laurence was
saying, ‘Let’s hope Mrs Addington isn’t on the desk,’ as he pushed open the front door.
    But there she was, watching them as they came in. ‘Good evening, Mr Sykes!’ she trilled. ‘If you and your wife would like a drink, the bar is open to guests.’ She nodded
to an open door leading off the hallway and Alexandra turned to see a plushly carpeted room set up with a polished counter and easy chairs around small wooden tables. It was empty except for a man
holding a newspaper, peering out from around it to see who was in the hall. When his gaze caught hers, he quickly disappeared behind his paper.
    ‘No, thank you,’ Laurence said. ‘I think we’ll go straight up. It’s been a busy day.’
    ‘Indeed,’ the landlady said with a sugary smile. ‘And a very special one,