Platinum Coast. Lynne Pemberton

Platinum Coast - Lynne  Pemberton


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      Outside in his BMW Christina seemed to come to herself.

      ‘I’m sorry, Martin. I feel so ashamed. I didn’t show you up, did I?’

      ‘Don’t be, Christina. Everyone has too much sometimes. It’s not the end of the world. Listen, I’ve made a fool of myself on more than one occasion and had to be carried home.’

      She sniffed and blew her nose.

      ‘I’d like to spend the night with you, Martin. I can’t bear to go back to the flat.’

      He stared straight ahead, both hands gripping the wheel. A car passed and his handsome profile was suddenly illuminated in the headlights.

      ‘I’d love to sleep with you, Christina, and to be honest I’ve thought about little else since our date last week.’ He thought carefully about his next words. ‘But I don’t want you on the rebound. You’ve had someone else on your mind tonight. I don’t think you’re ready for me or anyone till you’ve got him out of your system.’

      Christina sniffed again and stared ahead, not speaking. They drove in silence for a few minutes until she spoke, very quietly. ‘You’re right, Martin, though not many men would be so understanding. Thank you. If you could take me home I’d be grateful.’ He stopped his car in front of her flat.

      ‘I’d like to see you again, Christina, and there may not be much time. As you know, I’m on the transfer list. If the deal with Tottenham goes through next week I’ll be leaving Manchester.’ He paused. ‘I know you’d like to work in London …’ He wanted to say ‘We could go together’, but his voice trailed off and he left the sentence unfinished.

      Christina half smiled. ‘I really hope you get it, Martin. I’m sure you will.’

      She got out of the car. He was about to follow when she bent down and spoke through the open window.

      ‘Don’t get out, Martin. I’m fine now. Sorry about this evening.’

      ‘No problem. Think about London, won’t you, Christina? I’ll call you in the morning.’

      He waved and drove off. She watched the car until it was out of sight.

      It was ironic, she thought. Half the girls in Manchester would give their eye-teeth to have an invitation like that from Martin Ward. Christina could see the attraction. He was good-looking, he was famous. But he wasn’t for her. There was only one man she wanted.

      She expected to hear Martin’s voice when she picked up the telephone the following morning, but it was her sister instead.

      ‘It’s bad news, Christina. The doctors say Mam won’t last the night.’

      She stared at her own pale face and sunken eyes in the cracked mirror above the telephone.

      ‘But – they said she had a few more months! God, Marie, I’d have cancelled my jobs if I’d realized.’

      Her sister’s voice cracked as she replied, ‘Sure and Mam wouldn’t hear of that. She was always so proud of you, Christina.’

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