BOOK 5

Lynne spent the next hour wandering through the main floor and basement, making notes of pieces of furniture she thought would fit in her apartment. There was so much here! All her mother’s things, all Taylor had bought when he had his own apartment, and all of Ann’s things as well. In the basement were boxes and boxes of dishes, cutlery, knick-knacks and linens. There’d be no difficulty finding enough. The difficulty would be in trying to choose.

Tomorrow, she reminded herself. She’d worry about it tomorrow. Now, she’d go to bed, sleep like a log, and be ready for a hard day’s work.

But, as she lay there breathing in the perfumed breeze, picking out the individual aromas of nightscented stocks, nasturtiums and freshly cut grass, sleep was far away. She wandered to the balcony and watched the moon reflect on the water of the river, silvering a rippled path that seemed to arrow right into her heart the way Cliff’s kiss had.

No. He was too old. He really didn’t like her. He was all s