ISBN: 9780373820399

THE baby had distracted her. The beautiful, tow-haired, drooling baby, who had sat opposite her on his mother's lap, his gummy grin tying Tara's heart into knots and consigning all her we… Meer...

THE baby had distracted her. The beautiful, tow-haired, drooling baby, who had sat opposite her on his mother's lap, his gummy grin tying Tara's heart into knots and consigning all her well-intentioned plans to enjoy a carefree, happy day off to oblivion. All because his name was Gabriel. By the time she got off the train at Liverpool Street, tears had been welling like a dam about to burst, and she'd had to dig frantically through her purse for change for the ladies' toilet. Staring at her reflection in the mirror, Tara dabbed at her streaked mascara, reapplied some blusher and sucked in several deep breaths to calm herself. It was five years ago...five years. So why hadn't she got over it? It had just been bad luck that the baby on the train had shared his name with another beautiful baby boy... She was tired, that was all. Long overdue for a holiday. Back at her aunt's antique shop, she had a drawer full of glossy brochures promising the destinations of a lifetime. Carefree, sun-kissed vistas that, if she ever got round to booking one, might remind her that she was just thirty years old, with a lot of life in front of her yet to have fun. "The V&A," she said out loud into the mirror, as if putting her resolve into words might give her the will and the desire to get there. She delved into her shoulder bag for a brush, quickly dragged it through her shoulder-length blonde hair, noted for the second time that day that her fringe was in dire need of a trim, then, straightening her shoulders, exited through a turnstile out into the familiar mele that was Liverpool Street Station. Twenty minutes later, revived by a take-away caf latte, certain she was once more steering the ship, she headed determinedly down into the underground to board a tube and continue her journey to South Kensington. Inside the museum it was almost unbearably close. Initially trying to shrug off the heat, Tara tried hard to concentrate on what she was looking at. Browsing some of the impressive historical-dress collection that spanned four centuries of European fashionalways her favourite place to start on a visitshe paused to remove her light denim jacket and comb her fingers through her hair. Her hand came away damp from her forehead. Then, worryingly, the room started to spin. "Oh, my God." Resting her head against one of the long glass cabinets, blinking at the blur of green and yellow that was some diminutive aristocrat's ballgown, Tara prayed hard for the spinning sensation to stop. If only she'd roused herself a few minutes earlier that morning then she wouldn't have had to fly out of the house to catch the early trainand she wouldn't have left the house on an empty stomach. Coupled with the shock of hearing a name that haunted her from the past, it meant that her equilibrium was now paying the price. "Are you all right, dear?" An elderly lady with skin that resembled soft, crumpled parchment delicately laid her hand on Tara's shoulder. T Fiction Fiction eBook, Harlequin<

ISBN: 9780373820399

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