Chapter EighteenThe vodka bottle was empty. Lifting her glass, Pauline swallowed the last dregs with a gulp, wincing as the burning liquid sprayed the back of her throat. The empty bottle slipped from her hand onto the carpet with a dull thud as she lay back on the settee, all track of time lost, aware only that day had turned to night as the vodka bottle had gone from full to empty. On the floor lay a crumpled piece of paper, a few words typed by a complete stranger in a foreign land that had left her life in ruins.
Far from drowning her sorrows, the alcohol had served only to multiply the tears and cultivate the bitter sense of rejection. Suddenly she was second best, cast on the scrapheap to make way for another woman. What did this blonde with the striking eyes have to offer Howard th
