Free The Man in Possession by Hilda Pressley

way? They ’ re really sort of lakes shooting off from the rivers. ’
    ‘Perhaps the name just evolved—a broad stretch of water. They ’ re man-made, you know, caused by digging out peat, ages ago. ’ Then: ‘ Have you ever taken out a Broads yacht or cruiser for a holiday? ’ she asked.
    ‘A yacht a couple of times—not as often as I would have liked. ’
    ‘I suppose business kept you pretty busy, ’ she said, though in the back of her mind was the thought that perhaps the woman in his life did not like sailing.
    He said, ‘ Yes, ’ briefly, then after a pause went on to discuss the sail craft of their own fleet, asking her about her own sailing prowess and which boat she used.
    ‘A half-decker with lug sail, ’ she told him promptly. ‘They ’ re ideal for solo sailing—so easy to manage. ’
    ‘ But not much “ fun ” , is it, sailing alone? ’ he queried.
    She smiled a little. ‘Sometimes there ’ s no option. ’
    ‘True, but if there is someone around— ’
    She nodded, thinking of David again. With the right person sailing was more than ‘ fun ’ . It was sheer heaven. She and David had planned a honeymoon on a two-berth auxiliary yacht.
    Roger Leighton broke into her thoughts, this time talking about the business, that he would like to encourage sailing by having more yachts for hire.
    At this she felt once more the urge to tease him. ‘That would not be very good business. ’
    She expected he would realise that she was joking, but he didn ’ t. He took her seriously and the conversation was not quite as pleasant as it had been previously. They took their coffee in the hotel lounge and Julia noticed his glance go to the clock several times, almost as if he were wanting time to pass. At nine-thirty he suggested it was time to be going.
    ‘I promised to get you back for ten ,’ he added.
    He rose, not giving her the opportunity of changing her mind even if she had wanted to.
    It had been a mixed sort of evening, Julia thought as she sat back in the dimness of his car. If it were not for a certain reserve and unaccountable changes of mood he could be an interesting, even an exciting man. At this thought she experienced a faint twinge of conscience, of disloyalty to the memory of David. This was the first time she had taken any interest in another man, as a man, since his death. It was odd that until this evening she had avoided talking about him. Now she found she wanted to. Why, she could not explain, except that she felt almost as if she were being released from a kind of bondage.
    It was not until Roger turned into the boatyard that she realised neither of them had spoken all the way home. Apparently he also had been engrossed in his thoughts.
    ‘ Well, here we are ,’ he said, glancing at the clock on the dashboard. ‘Dead on time. If you ’ ll give me your key I ’ ll open your door for you. ’
    ‘It ’ s all right, I can— ’ But the words, I can manage died in her throat. He was not the kind of man one should say that to. He would not appreciate independence in a woman.
    As if to prove her right he ignored her half-finished sentence and held out his hand. With a feeling of amusement she rummaged in her bag and put the key into his palm. In a second he was out of the car, had unlocked the door of the houseboat and was holding the car door open for her.
    He helped her out and she thanked him. ‘ Would you care to come in for a coffee? ’
    ‘ Er—no, thanks. I have some letters to write, and I mustn ’ t rob you of your beauty sleep. ’
    More disappointed than she felt she should have been, she pushed open the door of the houseboat and stepped inside.
    ‘Goodnight, then— ’
    ‘ Julia- ’
    She turned hopefully. Another half hour of his company over a cup of coffee would round off the evening very nicely.
    But all he said was: ‘Thanks for turning what would have been a ve r y dull evening into an extremely pleasant one. ’
    To Julia ’ s ears it sounded