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251 pages

English

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Beautiful, popular and with a husband at the very top of the corporate ladder, Eleanor Geddes has it all, but behind closed doors she's a remote and deeply insecure woman with a secret fear which is about to be realised, as her husband is busy making plans which are set to blow her perfect life apart.Eleanor's friend Ruth Palmer doesn't know it yet, but she's got a problem too. Her marriage feels stale and her husband's working long hours at the office ... or is he?But Ruth's got bigger problems. A drunken kiss with her good friend Helen sets Ruth's life on a downward spiral of sexual frustration, denial and guilt. She turns to drink in a desperate attempt to fight her feelings, but a shocking declaration suddenly changes the course of three families' lives forever.

Informations

Publié par	Jane Reynolds
Date de parution	19 novembre 2012
Nombre de lectures	0
EAN13	9781783010271
Langue	English

Informations légales : prix de location à la page 0,0150€. Cette information est donnée uniquement à titre indicatif conformément à la législation en vigueur.

Extrait

“Just Good Friends?”

Jane Reynolds

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either a product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons; living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Copyright (c) 2010 Jane Reynolds

No portion of this book may be copied, retransmitted, reposted, duplicated, or otherwise used without the express written approval of the author, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review.

All Rights Reserved

ISBN 978 1 84914 051 5

Published by: Jane Reynolds

www.janereynolds.co.uk

If you really want something enough, you’ll find a way to make it happen ...

Chapter 1

'It's just a few drinks with the boys darling.'
'Bit short notice isn't it?'
'It's just a few of the boys …'
'Well, don't expect any dinner. I'm going to bed early.'
She slammed the phone down. Why was he always so bloody laid back and relaxed when she was trying to be horrible to him? Eleanor Geddes sighed. She pushed away the thought she didn't want to think and headed down to the cellar. Grabbing the door to the wine fridge, Eleanor pulled out the nearest bottle to hand: a rather expensive Chablis. 'Bit extravagant for a Monday night but sod him,' she huffed under her breath as she caught sight of the label.
'I wasn't even going to have a drink tonight,' she continued to mutter to herself as she stomped back up to the luxurious open-plan kitchen and slammed the bottle down hard onto the worktop. Eleanor reached into the cupboard for a couple of thin, delicate glasses then reached over for the foil-cutter and corkscrew which were in their usual handy place by the side of the fruit bowl. It took her barely a moment to release the cork and pour herself a large glass of the pale golden nectar.
She took a grateful swallow. It felt cold, then burned as it hit her stomach. Eleanor had hardly eaten all day as usual (trying to keep up with her stick-thin friends), and her stomach rumbled furiously. She went over to the pantry – calories suddenly irrelevant – and snatched out the first packet of nibbles she laid her hands on. She tore it open and tipped a handful of hickory-smoked almonds into her mouth, crunching angrily before washing them down with another gulp of wine; having hardly even tasted them.
The usual rumpus was going on in the children's bathroom upstairs. They would be down in a minute and the nightly homework battle would begin. 'Oh God,' Eleanor groaned as the thought suddenly stuck her. 'Monday: Toby's maths homework.' She took another large swig of wine (dreading the task ahead), and topped-up her glass.
Eleanor's three children charged down the stairs – bickering as usual – and were followed into the kitchen by Katie, their nanny. Nanny was the word Eleanor would use when either referring to her or introducing her to people, yet that was only one aspect of Katie's many responsibilities within Eleanor's busy household.
Like many Nanny/Housekeepers, as well as mostly having had sole charge of the children since they were babies, Katie also pretty-much managed the day-to-day running of Eleanor's home for her during the week. This, in turn, allowed Eleanor the freedom to enjoy her enviable lifestyle of visits to the gym; shopping; lunches, socialising with her equally wealthy friends and generally having a very nice time.
Eleanor half-filled the second glass with wine and slid it along the luxurious dark grey Corian worktop. Katie took a grateful sip and murmured 'Mmm, delicious; thanks,' before looking across at Eleanor quizzically. 'I thought you weren't going to have a drink tonight?' she ventured. (Mondays always began with a 'No drink' declaration!) 'What's happened?'
'He's bloody-well out again: that's what's happened.' Eleanor's beautiful face creased with anger and frustration as she spoke.
'Ah …' Katie turned and went to the fridge to take out the little one's night-time beaker of milk. She knew not to say anything else. Eleanor was in one of her moods and whatever Katie said now would inevitably land her in the dog-house too. 'The kids'll be in for it big time if they start playing her up tonight,' Katie reflected as she watched the plastic cup going round and round in the microwave.
In another kitchen in another house, Eleanor's husband Harvey put his glass of wine down and pressed himself up against one of the boys . He'd only actually told Eleanor half a lie. He was having a drink with the boys from work … it just happened to only be the one of them. He was also having rather more than just a drink, and the 'boy' was Lisa who was – most definitely – a girl. Blond; fit, smart and with a body to die for.
Eleanor didn't know that Harvey had got a new girl working for him. She would make the occasional swoop into his office (on some flimsy pretext or other), in order to cast a circumspect eye over the young female competition and the secretaries; all of whom she'd – so far – always been able to dismiss as not posing any kind of a threat to her. But Lisa was another matter. She'd started in the department shortly after the Annual Summer Barbeque at the Chairman's sprawling Surrey Estate back in June, and Harvey's suspicious, insecure wife was still blissfully unaware of her existence: which was how he intended to keep it … for now.
Lisa caught the heady scent of his aftershave as she ran her hands across his shoulders and down the back of his crisp cotton shirt. She gripped his firm buttocks and ground herself up against him then – feeling his hardness – moaned slightly as he nuzzled his lips against her bare shoulder and caressed her breasts, before lifting her up onto the worktop. Her eyes closed and she breathed heavily with anticipation as he quickly unzipped himself and pushed her legs apart.

In another kitchen in another house, Ruth Palmer was also having a glass of wine. Her husband Simon was – of course – not around, and her two children; Beth and Harry, were sitting at the kitchen table quietly attending to their homework while Ruth loaded the dishwasher and cleared away the remnants of their tea before starting to prepare her own evening meal.
Not as tall or anywhere near as head-turningly attractive as her friend Eleanor, Ruth also had an unruly, sandy-coloured mop of collar-length hair which always managed to look slightly dishevelled and a little windswept, even when she'd just stepped out of the Hairdressers. She was thirty-seven now, yet her open, friendly features still held the look of a fresh-faced teenager. Coupled with her bubbly personality and gentle nature, Ruth was unquestionably the most popular member of Eleanor's large circle of friends and acquaintances.
She tried to loosen the waistband of her skirt with her fingers, while knowing of course that it was pointless. The reason it was tight was because she was putting weight on. Too much wine, and a little too often.
'I wasn't even going to have a drink tonight , ' Ruth sighed as she took another swig, but without much of a feeling of guilt. After all, Simon was away overnight and her best friend Helen had just called in to collect her son Max from Ruth's and take him home to their own house a few doors down the road, so Ruth felt she deserved some sort of treat for spending yet another night stuck in on her own.
Ruth minded eight-year-old Max before and after school while Helen went to work as Features Editor on a popular women's magazine. She and Helen generally enjoyed a glass of wine together most evenings when Helen came to pick Max up, and they often had dinner together too. Helen was divorced, and with Ruth's husband Simon either working late or being away overnight on business trips so frequently, Ruth and Helen's friendship had developed over the years to the point that Ruth sometimes felt she knew Helen better than she did her own husband.
Despite Ruth's busy life as a corporate wife (and having the dubious honour of Eleanor regarding her as her own 'best' friend), it was her friendship with Helen that Ruth valued most highly. They shared an easy familiarity, and as well as talking to each other at least once a day on the phone, Ruth treasured their nightly get-togethers; where they both got to relax a little and chat about what each of them had been up to in their very-different days.
Tonight though, Helen had got some important work to do for a meeting the following morning and hadn't even stayed for one quick drink. It had left Ruth feeling strangely flat, although she had no idea why. So: the highlight of her night tonight then was going to be nothing more than dinner for one and another glass of wine … or three.

'Milky-wilky, milky-wilky,' four-year-old Jack sang as he heard the 'ping' of the microwave and scrambled up into his favourite armchair. Katie put the lid on the beaker and took it over to him. She flicked the TV on and popped his current favourite DVD into the player so that he could have his usual twenty minutes quiet time before bed.
Eleanor realised that the other two had disappeared. 'Sophie, Toby, come here now ! ' she yelled as she opened their school bags and dragged the contents out onto the large antique French oak dining table which took up virtually the whole of one side of the kitchen area. The children emerged reluctantly from the playroom. They'd got their second wind from having had their tea and were – of course – definitely not in the mood to now have to sit down and start concentrating again after having already been at school all day.
'All gone,' a little voice called out, and Jack's arm appeared over the top of the chair holding the empty beaker.
'Okay, coming,' Katie smiled and walked over to take it off