Jill Mansell - Millies Fling

Copyright 2001, 2009 by Jill Mansell

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Cover illustration Nina Chakrabarti

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Originally published in 2001 by Headline Publishing Group, London

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Mansell, Jill.

Millie's fling / Jill Mansell.

p. cm.

1. Single womenFiction. 2. Female friendshipFiction. 3. Mate selectionFiction. 4. Dating (Social customs)Fiction. 5. Cornwall (England : County)Fiction. 6. Chick lit. 7. Love stories. gsafd I. Title.

PR6063.A395M54 2009

823.914dc22

2009019076

Printed and bound in the United States of America
VP 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

For Lydia and Cory,
despite the fact that they are sick and tired
of having books dedicated to them.
Bad luck, here's another one.

THE VIEW FROM WHERE they were sitting was spectacular, but Millie Brady couldnt help wondering why Neil had driven her up here today to Tresanter Point. He wasnt normally the scenery-admiring type.

Next to her, in the driver's seat of his lovingly restored emerald green MG, Neil cleared his throat.

Right, well, Ive had a bit of a think about this, and weve been together for quite a while now. Clasping her hand suddenly in his, Neil began to stroke it as if it were a nervous puppy.

All of a sudden Millie began to have an inkling as to what this might actually be about. Oh blimey, oh heavens, surely not surely he wasnt gearing himself up to ask her to marry him

Not that long, she put in hastily, not really. Only three months.

Still, we get on well, dont we? And the landlord's been dead funny about renewing the lease on our place. I think he wants us out of there.

Since this was the flat Neil shared with four of his friends, Millie wasnt a bit surprised. The place was an indescribable pit.

So what I thought was, what with the two of us being pretty much an item these daysMillie, hello, are you listening to me?

Mm? Oh, sorry. Millie forced herself to pay attention; she had been distracted for a moment by the arrival at the cliff-top beauty spot of a gleaming burnt orange Mercedes. As it had screeched to a halt, Millie couldnt help noticing that the drivera woman in dark glasseshad long, riotously curly hair the exact same shade of burnt orange as her car.

She was smoking a cigarette at a rate of knots. And not looking at all happy, Millie observed as the woman removed her dark glasses and began arranging a row of white rectangles along the dashboard, as if she were dealing out playing cards.

Pay attention now. Come on, concentrate. Millie gave herself an admonitory mental shake. If someone's asking you to marry them the very least you can do is listen; it's only polite.

Okay, so how about if you jack in your place and we get somewhere of our own?

Neil gazed at her in triumph, his hideous ordeal over. There, hed done it. Said what hed come here to say. Now all Millie had to do was swoon with happiness and say yes.

So he wasnt asking her to marry him, Millie realized with a rush of relief. There wasnt going to be any of that romantic down-on-one-knee business, followed by the production of a little velvet jeweler's box containing an engagement ring. No church, no honeymoon, no solemn vows, none of that sloppy malarkey, oh no. Neil was plumping for the cheaper, more down-to-earth option, basically because he was about to be evicted from his current abode and because hed rather stick red-hot pins in his eyes than iron a shirt or have to do a spot of washing-up.

Im only twenty-five. There has to be more to life.

Anyway, what were those white rectangles on the dashboard of the Mercedes? And shouldnt the woman with the chestnut hair now out of the cartake a bit more care where she was going? The way she was wandering so close to the edge of the cliff was downright reckless, Millie tut-tutted; didnt she realize that if she slipped and fell on to the rocks two hundred feet below she could be killed ?

Youre not saying anything, Neil complained. I thought youd be over the moon. No more having to share that poky little house with Hester

It's not a poky little house, Millie replied absently. And I like sharing with Hester.

But wed be living together. That means Im serious about you. Wed be, like, a proper couple.

The wind was blowing the woman's red-gold curls around her face but when she put up a hand to sweep her hair out of her eyes, Millie saw that she was crying. She also thought there was something familiar about the woman, but from this distance it was impossible to be sure.

Except something wasnt quite right here. The woman was still pacing up and down, smoking furiously, and pausing every now and again to peer over the edge of the cliff. Normally at a beauty spot you sat back on one of the benches thoughtfully supplied for the purpose and admired the stupendous view. This woman, Millie couldnt help thinking, was acting more like an Olympic high-jumper psyching herself up to make her third and final attempt at the world record

Okay, fine, if you dont want us to live together, that's up to you, snapped Neil, abruptly letting her hand drop. Any normal girl wouldve been thrilled, but not you, oh no, I might have guessed youd have to play hard to get. I mean, what dyou expect me to do? Beg?

Oh good grief, she was psyching herself up to jump.

Only not upwards, Millie thought with a surge of horror. Belatedly she remembered that Tresanter Point wasnt just a renowned beauty spot. It also had something of a reputation as a lover's leap.

A haunt for would-be suicides.

This woman was planning on jumping down.

Any normal girl would be flattered, Neil was carrying on huffily. Any normal girl would have been chuffed to bits, I can tell you. Honestly, I cant believe youre being so ungrateful, what I dont think you realize is what a catch I amhey! Where are you going? What dyou think youre playing at now?

Millie was already out of the car, pelting hell for leather across the rough grass. The woman was currently standing with her back to her, engrossed in trying to light a second cigarette from the butt of the first. Her long indigo cotton dress flapped wildly around her legs, which were pale and bare. Her long copper hair, whipped by the brisk breeze, streamed behind her like a banner.

Screeching to a halt next to the Mercedes, Millie saw that she had been right. The white rectangles propped up on the dashboard were indeed envelopes, each one bearing a different name.

Either the woman was sending out invitations to a party or they were suicide notes.

Right, okay, mustnt panic, thought Millie. Panicking.

Now what?

BEEEP!

Startled, the woman at the edge of the cliff twisted round. So did Millie.

What the hell do you think youre doing? Neil yelled bad-temperedly at her from the MG.

It's okay! Im just, um, asking for a light.