By Barrett-Lee
Chic-lit fiction
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Extra resources for Out on a Limb
Sample text
It must happen all the time. It must be quite distracting. But then he probably deserves it. ’ I ask him now. ’ I don’t know if he has a garden, of course, but I’m quite sure he must do. A big one. With a weather vane in it. And one of those things that measure rainfall, most probably. And now he has half of another one, to boot. Humph. ‘I had no idea until this morning,’ he goes on, ignoring me. ‘Oh, come on…’ I retort. ‘You expect us to believe that? ’ To get his hands on the spoils? Oh, yes, it’s all becoming horribly clear now.
It must be quite distracting. But then he probably deserves it. ’ I ask him now. ’ I don’t know if he has a garden, of course, but I’m quite sure he must do. A big one. With a weather vane in it. And one of those things that measure rainfall, most probably. And now he has half of another one, to boot. Humph. ‘I had no idea until this morning,’ he goes on, ignoring me. ‘Oh, come on…’ I retort. ‘You expect us to believe that? ’ To get his hands on the spoils? Oh, yes, it’s all becoming horribly clear now.
Humming to myself and with my back to the kitchen door. So it’s no surprise that I don’t know someone else is in the kitchen. Not until it speaks to me, at any rate. ’ As the voice says this at least five seconds after I last spoke, I assume for a moment that it must be engaged in conversation with someone else. But when I wheel around, it’s to find myself face to face with the face of the weatherman – who, now I think about it, does look vaguely familiar – and I realise there’s no one else in here.