Love in Another Town by Barbara Taylor Bradford

accessories.
    Samantha had invested in a variety of fabrics which she planned to sell in the studio shop she was opening in three months’ time. Maggie’s favourites were the Scottish wools, mohairs and tartans, which had taken her fancy as well as Samantha’s.
    All in all they had done well, and Maggie made up her mind to come back next year. With Jake. He had never travelled abroad and had recently confided that he would enjoy making a trip to England one day.
    She had missed him, missed his warmth and affection, his sense of fun, his dry humour, his passion, and his constant cosseting of her. He made her feel so wanted, so loved, in a way which Mike Sorrell never had.
    She heard her name and glanced up, peering ahead, shading her eyes against the bright light with her hand. She waved when she saw Samantha coming down the path towards her.
    â€˜I’ve been looking all over for you!’ Samantha exclaimed, tucking her arm through Maggie’s, falling into step. The two of them continued on to the hotel together.
    Maggie said, ‘I love this time of day, just before dark. It’s magic.’
    Samantha nodded. ‘So do I. And that’s what they call it in the movie business …
the magic hour.
Apparently cinematographers think it’s the most wonderful light for filming.’ Samantha shivered. ‘Let’s go inside, Maggie, it’s turned coolish. There’s a breeze blowing up for one thing, and it smells of rain.’
    â€˜I’m a bit cold myself,’ Maggie admitted.
    They increased their pace, and once they were inside the hotel Samantha looked at her watch. She said, ‘It’s nearly seven. Let’s go and have a drink in the lounge. There’s a huge fire blazing in there. It might be July, but they know something about these cool Scottish nights, the locals do.’
    A short while later the two friends sat in the comfortable lounge. It was furnished with deep leather chairs and sofas, and there were wonderful old paintings on the walls. Vases of flowers were everywhere and their mingled scents filled the air. The only sounds were the ticking of a clock somewhere at the other end of the room and the hiss and crackle of the logs burning in the huge marble fireplace. Silk-shaded lamps had been turned on and the lounge had a soft glow to it.
    Samantha looked around and said, ‘It’s so intimate and cosy in here, and the room has a real country-house feeling to it, don’t you think?’
    â€˜It’s a look that’s hard to reproduce properly,’ Maggie said. ‘The British do it so well, maybe because it’s endemic to their way of life.’
    Samantha merely smiled and took a sip of her whitewine. Then she glanced across at Maggie. ‘I’ve really enjoyed the trip, haven’t you?’ 
    â€˜Yes, I have.’
    Now Samantha eyed her carefully and murmured, ‘But you’ve missed Jake, haven’t you?’
    Maggie smiled. ‘A bit …’ She laughed, added, ‘A lot actually. How did you guess?’
    â€˜You’ve seemed distracted sometimes, and sort of … well,
faraway
is the best way of describing it.’
    Maggie was silent. She averted her face for a brief moment, sat gazing into the fire, a quiet, reflective expression settling in her eyes. After a moment she glanced at her best friend and said, ‘There’s something I want to tell you.’
    Samantha nodded. ‘And oddly enough, I’ve got something to tell you. But you go first.’
    There was a fractional silence. Maggie then said, ‘I’m pregnant, Sam.’
    â€˜Good God! You can’t be! Surely not! Not in this day and age! Don’t tell me you didn’t use anything, for God’s sake!’
    â€˜Yes. I missed my period for the second time last week, when we first got here. And no, we didn’t use anything.’
    Samantha sat back, gaping at her askance. ‘There’s