Read online book «Life Or Something Like It» author Annie Lyons

Life Or Something Like It
Annie Lyons
‘Annie Lyons is my go-to author for feel-good fiction’ - Mandy BaggotJoin Annie Lyons for a journey that will make you laugh and cryStep into someone else’s shoes for a day… And it will change you for a lifetime.Cat is very good at her job. She runs a PR company with her best friend (and secret crush) Jesse, and is never happier than when her high-profile celebrities are glittering in the spotlight.But when her footballer client gets in the press for all the wrong reasons, Cat’s career takes a sudden nosedive. So when her brother Andrew unexpectedly needs her to look after his kids for a few weeks, she can hardly say no. She’s happily single, hasn’t exactly been the ‘World’s Best Auntie’ over the years, and what she knows about looking after children would fit on the back of a postage stamp. But it’s only temporary until she gets her real life back on track – isn’t it?From the bestselling author of Not Quite Perfect comes a hilarious story that will have you wondering just how perfect your life is!What reviewers are saying about Life or Something Like It‘This book has it all, it's cheerful, it's warm, it's special, it's loving, it's touching and it's sweet, a fantastic combination that works really well.’ – Librarian Lavender‘If you’re looking for a gorgeous read that will give you warm, fuzzy feelings aplenty then Life or Something Like It is definitely a read for you…’ – Bookaholic Confessions‘I cannot recommend this book enough for something light, yet thought provoking, definitely one to get the conversations going, though also one to make you smile.’ – Brymaycock’s Book Blog‘I highly recommend this read for some laughs… but also for a whole lot more of emotions!’ – Alba in Bookland‘I can’t help but gush about this book. This is one of the best novels I have read so far this summer… I definitely did not want to put it down and I don’t think you will want to either.’ – Good Book and a Cup of Tea‘…just the perfect tonic I needed to enable me to forget about my own life for a few hours and enjoy this entertaining tale from Annie Lyons.’ – Shaz’s Book Blog‘Life Or Something Like It was light hearted and witty, I often found myself laughing out loud’ – Lozza’s Book Corner


Step into someone else’s shoes for a day…
And it will change you for a lifetime.
Cat is very good at her job. She runs a PR company with best friend (and secret crush) Jesse, and is never happier than when her high-profile celebrities are glittering in the spotlight.
But after a footballer client hits the headlines for all the wrong reasons, Cat’s career takes a sudden nosedive. So when her brother Andrew unexpectedly needs her to look after his kids for a few weeks, she can hardly say no. She’s happily single, hasn’t exactly been the ‘World’s Best Auntie’ over the years, and what she knows about looking after children would fit on the back of a postage stamp. But it’s only temporary until she gets her real life back on track – isn’t it?
Praise for ANNIE LYONS (#ulink_d604d793-6252-537b-9a43-aa48648f03ae)
‘A great holiday read!’ - Jill Steeples, author of Let’s Call the Whole Thing Off
‘Annie Lyons has proven to be a skilled and extremely talented writer with this book, it truly is something special. She hits on so many emotions all at once that you honestly don’t know if you are coming or going.’ - The Book Geek Wears Pajamas on Dear Lizzie
‘Not Quite Perfect is such a page turner… I couldn’t put this book down and found myself crying with both laughter and sadness at this touching and thought-provoking story.’ - Bookaholic Confessions
‘…a humorous, lighthearted read’ - Fiona’s Book Reviews on Not Quite Perfect
‘Not Quite Perfect is a great title for this book. The writing is bubbly and vivid and very entertaining. It’s a story about trying to find out what is important in life and also that life can’t be perfect all the time.’ - Sky’s Book Corner
‘I thoroughly enjoyed this book and struggled to put it down. The chapters were engaging and funny, with characters that seem to bounce straight off the page and into your imagination.’ - Book Chick City on Dear Lizzie
‘Not Quite Perfect is a mixture of heartwarming situations and light comedy. I found myself having a giggle and thinking ‘that’s so like my family’, on several occasions and that was nice and refreshing. Also, I will admit that I even cried in a few places because it pulled on my heart strings so much.’ - A Book and a Tea
Also by Annie Lyons (#ulink_c1d93566-47f6-57fb-a439-9a25391d59cc)
Not Quite Perfect
A Not Quite Perfect Christmas
Dear Lizzie
Life or Something Like It
Annie Lyons


Copyright (#ulink_4bef7da7-17c6-5e3b-a6a0-182724f44b75)
HQ
An imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd.
1 London Bridge Street
London SE1 9GF
First published in Great Britain by HQ in 2015
Copyright © Annie Lyons 2015
Annie Lyons asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on-screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.
E-book Edition © June 2015 ISBN: 9781474036528
Version date: 2018-07-23
ANNIE LYONS
decided, after leaving university, that she ‘rather liked books’ and got a job as a bookseller on Charing Cross Road, London. Two years later she left the retail world and continued rather liking books during an eleven-year career in publishing. Following redundancy in 2009 she realised that she would rather like to write books and having undertaken a creative writing course, lots of reading and a bit of practice she produced Not Quite Perfect. She now realises that she loves writing as much as coffee, not as much as her children and a bit more than gardening. She has since written three more novels and is about to start work on her fifth. She lives in a house in south-east London with her husband and two children. The garden is somewhat overgrown. One day she hopes to own a chocolate-brown Labrador named John and have tea with Mary Berry.
Thank you to my brilliant editors - to Sally Williamson for being the voice of calm and editorial wisdom in my frenetic brain and to Victoria Oundjian for her incredible insight, knowledge and mutual love of sombrero-wearing chihuahuas.
Special thanks to Sara Perkins for her invaluable advice on PR and Social Media – Cat Nightingale owes you a mojito.
Thank you to the rest of the splendid Carina team – you are amazing.
Love and thanks to Lily and Alfie for giving me lots of story ideas and offering to illustrate my books.
Most important thanks go to Rich – reader, friend, husband.
For Lily and Alfie
Contents
Cover (#ud5bbb878-b21c-5065-8c79-d3c3d4ce947c)
Blurb (#u95c39aec-6e2e-5f81-9583-31a44aad77eb)
Praise (#ud885d1df-662e-596f-bbc3-dbf3afece747)
Book List (#u29158b49-ab01-5477-bbb0-d61f7609e50c)
Title Page (#udd74eb2e-4fb9-5f36-8199-097bf64dcc42)
Copyright (#u33d7bd53-6fe9-508c-aedd-dcccc8f18386)
Author Bio (#u674f94cd-f3e4-5c7e-97b3-27213174d384)
Acknowledgement (#u4b8511f2-6728-518e-b3ea-fe040e01e99e)
Dedication (#ufdf004e2-dcc8-5ce4-9bfe-1c783af58701)
Chapter One (#ua1cc8063-e5a3-51fb-8dd1-d46415b76153)
Chapter Two (#ue58d1a4a-dc0f-53c9-82b5-822025d42b45)
Chapter Three (#ude8fdd59-286b-5f3b-b913-d278f9c2c8fd)
Chapter Four (#u08a521a7-2fdd-5016-9481-7f057fe8adc1)
Chapter Five (#u6f5b61c2-8c08-552c-b4fb-c061afe24bcf)
Chapter Six (#uccbe0b06-6d29-5cfe-a737-fa32e13cd183)
Chapter Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Fifteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Sixteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Seventeen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Eighteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Nineteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-One (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Two (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter Twenty-Three (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
Excerpt (#litres_trial_promo)
Endpages (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter One (#ulink_187859de-954b-542f-8d25-ae7394c4159c)
Cat Nightingale strode confidently through the bar and took a seat on an elegant tan leather sofa by the window. She placed her Kelly bag next to her and took out her iPhone. Ava was always late and Cat was always early. Cat liked things this way. It gave her time to check e-mails, Twitter and anything else that required her attention. She swiped a neatly manicured finger over the screen and flicked her way through her correspondence. Cat had a relationship with her iPhone that was more serious than any she had ever experienced with a man. It was always by her side, faithful and reliable, except when its battery ran down.
As Deputy MD at Hemingway Media, keeping in touch and up to date was vital but she also knew that it was something of an addiction – a good addiction. She had to get that digital hit throughout the day. She had to be on top of everything. Their portfolio of celebrity clients was impressive and her relationship with each and every one of them had to be maintained with a delicate mix of discretion, professionalism and a smattering of the friendly banter that she was known for.
Cat was good at her job and she knew it. Her boss, Jesse, worshipped the ground beneath her feet. She had helped him set up the company three years after they graduated from university and the combination of his easy charm and her sharp intellect had meant that they quickly attracted a host of high-profile clients through word of mouth alone.
You need to launch your new range of perfume? Call Cat. You’re flying to New York and need a go-to for the best clubs and restaurants in town plus reservations to boot? Call Cat. You’ve been caught in a compromising position with your wife’s sister? Call Cat.
Her phone buzzed with a call. She glanced at the ID and swiped to answer immediately.
‘Will. How are you?’
‘I’m hoping I’ll be a lot better after this call.’ Will Bateman didn’t do niceties. He was the most powerful football agent in the country and time really was money in his world. Hemingway Media was organising the launch of a new coffee for the Daily Grind coffee shop chain and Will’s biggest football star, Alvarro Diaz, was going to front it.
‘I’ll do my best.’
‘Can you assure me that there will be no cock-ups on Thursday? I’m taking a big punt using Hemingway and if it goes pear-shaped, it will be my arse on the line too.’
Cat took a deep breath. ‘Everything is in place. Daily Grind love working with Alvarro and we’re already getting a huge response on social media to the “From Bean to Cup” promo film.’
‘I’m more concerned about Alvarro behaving himself,’ admitted Will.
Cat shared these concerns. Alvarro was the latest in a long line of footballing bad boys. He was young, had too much money and since moving from his native Costa Rica, was making the most of his freedom by hitting the London nightlife hard. He was a journalist’s dream and a publicist’s nightmare. ‘I’ve organised a dinner with some journalists for the night before the launch and we’ll make sure there are no detours on the way back to the hotel afterwards.’
‘Okay. Let’s hope you can keep him in line,’ said Will. And with that he was gone.
‘Bye then,’ said Cat to the silent phone.
‘Who you gotta screw to get a cocktail round here?’ cried Ava sweeping through the bar towards Cat. People turned to stare and Ava smiled and waved like the Queen. Cat grinned and stood up in readiness for their air-kiss greeting. Ava Jackson liked to make an entrance; she loved the attention almost as much as the celebrities she featured in her magazine. She was a pint-sized New Yorker with a fearsome reputation and immaculate hair. She had landed in the UK twenty years ago, forging an impressive career as a red-topped paper journalist before founding her own celebrity gossip magazine called Mwah!
A handsome, slick-haired waiter appeared by their side. Ava gave him an approving smile as they ordered their drinks. ‘So,’ she said, fixing her gaze on Cat, ‘tell me everything.’
Cat smiled. She was used to Ava’s ways. She was an important contact in the world of celebrity gossip magazines and probably the closest thing Cat had to a best friend, but she didn’t trust her. Not really. Ava would sell her grandmother and probably Cat’s too for a good story. They had playfully named these informal monthly get-togethers as ‘The Tuesday Night Mojito Club’, but Cat was careful to be measured in both her drinking and divulging. Still, they enjoyed each other’s company and for the most part the relationship was mutually advantageous. Cat gave Ava the stories that would help her sell magazines and Ava gave Cat the publicity her clients required. It was beautifully simple. Most of the time.
‘Saffy Bridges’s agent has asked me to find the right home for her engagement pictures,’ said Cat, casually. The waiter delivered their cocktails and Cat nodded her thanks.
Ava sat up in her seat. ‘I’m listening.’
Cat smiled. Saffron Bridges was the pop sensation of the moment and she had recently announced her engagement to the floppy-fringed song-writing star Sam Taylor. As soon as it had been announced #SaffSam had trended worldwide and the Tiffany’s engagement ring that Saffy had posted on Instagram shortly afterwards now had a six-month waiting list. Cat had overseen the entire thing. ‘The problem is, there are obviously a number of other channels interested,’ said Cat, studying her fingernails.
Ava didn’t blink. ‘What do you need?’
‘Positive coverage for the Paradise Rivers perfume launch.’
‘Done.’
‘No bitchy comments about her being a limelight-grabbing drama queen?’
Ava put her hand on her heart. ‘By the time we’ve finished with her, she’ll be more popular than Kate Middleton.’
Cat raised an eyebrow. Paradise Rivers was a former reality TV and now wannabe pop star. She was headline-hogging and about as far from paradise as a person could be but her agent had a number of other top celebrity clients so Cat had to ensure that she got the best coverage possible. ‘Just a few hours trending on Twitter for all the right reasons will be fine.’
‘You got it,’ said Ava taking a sip of her drink. Cat sat back in her chair feeling satisfied. ‘So, how are you doing?’
Cat smiled. ‘I’m good. Busy but that’s how I like it.’
Ava fixed her with a look. ‘Too busy if I know you.’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
‘I mean, sweet-cheeks, that you gotta look after number one. Listen to your Auntie Ava. Trust me, I know this. All work and no play will burn you out in the end.’
Cat shrugged. ‘I signed up to this job. It’s just the way it is. And besides, I enjoy it. It makes me happy. But I appreciate you looking out for me, Mum,’ she joked.
Ava blew a raspberry. ‘I’m serious. I worry about you.’
Cat shook her head and laughed. ‘Why would you worry about me?’
Ava counted on her fingers. ‘One: you work too hard, two: you’re never off that phone, three: when was the last time you had sex?’
Cat nearly choked on her mojito. ‘What’s sex got to do with anything?’
Ava fixed her with a knowing look. ‘Sex has got everything to do with everything.’
‘I have sex,’ insisted Cat.
‘When?’
‘Last month. With that comedian.’
‘The one with the awful hair and sweat-patches? Euw!’
‘He was very funny.’
‘A funny comedian? There’s a thing.’
Cat stuck out her tongue. ‘Well what about you and all the sex you’re having?’
‘I do pretty well and anyway I’ve got Sergio.’
‘Oh yeah, your “friend with benefits”,’ laughed Cat making speech marks in the air. ‘You’re so old school, Ava.’
Ava shrugged. ‘You may mock but it works. You should get one instead of rejecting every male because he’s not Jesse Hemingway.’
Cat folded her arms. She cursed the day she had told Ava about Jesse. They hadn’t known each other long; it had been after the launch party for Mwah! Cat remembered that tequila and Ava’s nose for an excellent story had been to blame.
‘So he’s the man of your dreams and yet you’ve never slept with him?’ Ava had slurred, reaching over to top up their shot glasses with expensive golden tequila.
‘We had a moment,’ Cat had said wistfully.
‘A moment? Oh well, that’s almost as legally binding as a marriage.’
Cat wished she’d never mentioned it but Ava had the memory of an elephant and was fond of bringing up the subject whenever their talk turned to affairs of the heart. Fortunately this didn’t happen very often; the celebrity world kept them more than occupied and Cat had no desire to air her innermost feelings to herself, let alone the editor of the country’s favourite gossip magazine.
Still, Ava was right in that there was no-one who ever came close to Jesse and, as the years went by, this never changed. Cat enjoyed the odd flirtation and night of passion but nothing ever lasted and it suited her fine. Jesse was now married to an ex-model but it was still Cat who got to spend the majority of time with him. He even called her his ‘PR wife’. This suited her fine as well.
‘I am not rejecting anyone. I’m just not looking because I’m happy as I am.’
‘Really?’ said Ava with narrowed disbelieving eyes.
‘Really,’ declared Cat. ‘This single life works for me. I think I might be the one.’
Ava gave a hollow laugh. ‘If you say so, honey. And for the record, it works for me too. I don’t know what I’d do if you got hitched and popped out a couple of kids.’
Cat shook her head. ‘You know me. That’s never going to happen. Let other people repopulate the world. Between you and me, I’ve got a woman working for me who was the best in the business but since she’s had a baby, I’ve had no end of trouble.’
Ava nodded. ‘Tell me about it. The kid’s sick and suddenly it’s your problem. Am I right?’
‘Pretty much. I mean it’s the twenty-first century so women should be able to go out to work but you’ve got to be responsible for your own life and get organised, for heaven’s sake. The number of times I’ve had to let Nancy have time off because of childcare issues. It’s not on. You’ve got to take control and if you can’t, then find another job.’
‘I’ll drink to that,’ said Ava draining her glass. ‘Want another?’
Cat nodded. ‘Please.’ Her phone buzzed with a call and she glanced down to see her brother’s number. ‘I need to take this,’ she said, excusing herself from the table and making her way out into the lobby away from Ava’s gaze.
‘Andrew? Are you okay?’
‘Hey, Cat. That’s not like you to answer your phone to me first time.’
‘Ha ha. What’s up?’
‘Just calling to catch up with my favourite sister. I expect you’re somewhere posh and up itself.’
She smiled. ‘Always. How are Melissa and the kids?’
‘Well actually Mel’s got to go to Australia. Her dad’s not well.’
‘Oh shit. Is it serious?’
‘Cancer. They’re giving him weeks to live.’
‘Oh God, I’m so sorry. Poor Melissa.’
‘I know. She’s leaving first thing tomorrow so we’re just trying to sort out the childcare.’
‘Let me know if there’s anything I can do to help.’
‘Ah thanks, Nanny McPhee. Could my children come and stay with you?’
‘Well er – ’
‘Cat? I’m kidding. You’re so easy to wind up. Much as I relish the thought of you dragging my six- and ten-year-old to the Ivy and the management looking on in horror as Ellie and Charlie ask for ketchup with their caviar, we should be fine.’
‘They don’t have caviar at the Ivy so ha! Anyway, I would help you out if you needed me to. You know that.’
‘Thank you but luckily Mel’s sorting it so you’re off the hook. I’ll call you at the weekend, okay?’
Cat gave a shiver of relief as she ended the call. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her nephew and niece; it was more that she’d hardly spent any time with children. She recalled how Andrew had recently guilt-tripped her into attending Ellie’s sixth birthday party. Cat had turned up with the biggest teddy bear she could carry ready to play at being the world’s best auntie. She rang the doorbell and could hear small feet stampeding down the hall before the door was flung open and a small voice squeaked, ‘Eeeee!’
Cat peered around the bear into the chocolate-smeared face of her niece. Ellie was wearing a white and blue princess dress. She was flanked by two girls in similar outfits with a small boy dressed as a slightly lopsided snowman trailing behind. Cat was good at dealing with most situations but being faced with these sugar-crazed miniature humans immediately caught her off guard. She was relieved when she heard her brother’s voice.
‘Ellie, what have I told you about opening the door to strangers? Oh Cat, you made it! Come in.’ Andrew smiled. Cat’s heart surged with love and gratitude.
‘Is that for me?’ demanded Ellie, gesturing at the bear.
‘Ellie! Don’t be rude. Say hello to your Auntie Cat.’
‘You told me not to talk to strangers,’ said the six-year-old baldly. ‘Who is Auntie Cat?’
Andrew looked embarrassed but Cat dismissed his concerns with a small shake of her head. ‘You’re very clever to be careful and I’m sorry I haven’t seen you for a while but Daddy is right, I’m your auntie and this,’ she said, handing over the bear, ‘is for you. Happy birthday.’
Ellie took the bear, which was much bigger than her. ‘What do you say, Ellie?’ coaxed Andrew.
‘Thank yoo,’ said the small girl looking up at her aunt suspiciously.
‘Andy!’ shouted a voice from upstairs, which Cat recognised as Melissa’s. Andrew glanced up at the frowning face peering over the banisters. ‘Oh hey, Cat,’ said Melissa as she spotted her sister-in-law. Cat could tell that she was surprised and a little irritated by her presence.
‘Hey,’ said Cat. ‘I just popped in with a present for Ellie but I can see you’re busy.’
‘Oh no you don’t,’ said Andrew, grabbing her arm and pulling her over the threshold. ‘Are you okay, Mel?’
‘I need you to come and talk to your son,’ said Melissa with meaning. Cat could hear her ten-year-old nephew rampaging like a wild animal upstairs.
A shadow of embarrassment passed over Andrew’s face as he glanced at his sister. ‘I’ll be back in a sec. Ellie, take your aunt through to the other room and don’t let her leave, okay?’ He disappeared up the stairs leaving Cat standing in the hall with her four minders.
She smiled down at them cheerfully. Use your PR charm, Catherine, she told herself. ‘Which princesses are you?’ she asked the three girls. ‘I always used to like Sleeping Beauty.’
Ellie rolled her eyes. ‘Duh. I’m Elsa and they are Anna,’ she declared, gesturing at her friends. A look of confusion passed over Cat’s face. ‘From Frozen?’ continued Ellie as if she were addressing an idiot. ‘You know – Let it go, Let it go-ooo,’ she sang tunelessly, dancing the gigantic bear round and round. Her two friends joined in and they were soon spinning down the corridor with giggling glee. Cat and the snowman were left staring at one another. She recoiled in horror as a thick slug of snot seeped from his carrot-covered nose.
‘I’m Olaf,’ he declared before pushing his tongue up his lip and licking experimentally at the snot. Cat did her best not to gag and looked desperately up the stairs, praying that her brother would come back soon and rescue her. However, Ellie had not forgotten her father’s request. She plonked the huge bear on the floor and spun back down the hallway towards her aunt. Grabbing Cat with one hand and dragging the bear with the other, she pulled her towards the dining room. ‘Come on. You have to meet Finn,’ she said.
Cat followed reluctantly, expecting to be introduced to another grubby little boy with limited hygiene. She was surprised to find a man, sitting on the floor of the dining room, strumming experimentally on a guitar. The chairs had been cleared to the sides of the room and the table was pushed against one wall. It was covered with pieces of half-chewed pizza, curling sandwiches and what looked like strawberry jelly, all of which made Cat’s stomach flip. She was used to politely nibbled canapés and bento boxes containing neat parcels of sushi. This was cuisine carnage.
Ellie plonked herself very close to the man, whilst one little girl sat the other side of him and the other stood behind him, wrapping her arms around his neck. He obviously had some sort of magnetism for children. To be honest, Cat couldn’t quite see the attraction. He was heavily bearded with messy hair, a scruffy T-shirt bearing the words ‘I like Biscuits’, and an even scruffier pair of jeans paired with some ancient Converse trainers. He looked so at home on the floor with these pint-sized princesses, almost as if he were one of them. They clearly adored him.
Ellie put an arm round his neck and looked up at her aunt. ‘This is Finn,’ she said proudly as if she were introducing the Dalai Lama. Finn nodded up at Cat but didn’t seem to see her. He was intent on the chords he was playing, lost in a musical moment. Cat found this quite rude. ‘Come and sit down and we can sing,’ ordered Ellie. Cat looked around her. The floor was worse than the table. It was covered with crushed cheese puffs, squashed fondant fancies and pools of sticky juice. Cat glanced down at her Stella McCartney jeans and picked up what she hoped was a clean paper napkin. She placed it on the floor and sat down next to Ellie.
She glanced up to see Finn watching her with obvious amusement. For some reason this irritated Cat. How dare he laugh at her? She held out a manicured hand. She wouldn’t stoop to his ill-mannered level. ‘Good to meet you, Finn. I’m Andrew’s sister – Cat.’
Finn leant over his guitar and took her hand. She noticed how cool his touch was. ‘I didn’t know Andy had a sister. Pleased to meet you.’
‘It’s because she doesn’t come over very often,’ said Ellie, rolling her eyes conspiratorially at Finn.
Finn glanced over at Cat, suppressing a smile. ‘Is that because you’re a right royal pain in the bum, Ellie?’ he laughed.
Ellie glared up at him and then started to laugh. ‘Finn, you are so funny. I am lovely,’ she squeaked. ‘No, it’s because she doesn’t like children. That’s what Mummy says.’
Finn raised his eyebrows at Cat. ‘How does the guilty party plead?’ he asked.
Cat was incensed by his interrogation. ‘I really don’t think this is appropriate,’ she said, trying to keep her cool.
Finn regarded her for a moment. This man infuriated Cat. Who was he to judge her? She stared straight back at him with cool indifference. His face broke into a knowing grin as he turned back to the children. ‘And now, would Mr Bear like to sing a song?’ he added, gesturing at Ellie’s newest friend.
‘He would,’ said Ellie, handing him over.
Finn reached his arms around the gigantic toy and started to play the guitar, giving a rendition of ‘The Bear Necessities’ in a gruff, teddy bear type voice. The children giggled, hugging themselves with delight.
Cat was done. This man was a judgemental show-off and she was ready to leave. She had delivered Ellie’s present, put in an appearance. What more did she need to do? She didn’t have children, didn’t want children and going on today’s performance, this would never change. She was about to get up and leave when she felt someone standing next to her. She turned to see Olaf the snowman grinning at her, the plug of snot still very much in place on his top lip. Before she could move, he placed a hand on her knee and nestled down next to her. It was impossible to leave because he was now leaning on her lap and she watched in horror as he rested his head on her leg, leaving a slimy trail of mucous on her pristine jeans.
She could see that Finn had spotted what was happening, a wide grin of satisfaction spreading over his face. However, he didn’t realise that Cat was an expert at getting the best out of bad situations. She leant forward and whispered into the boy’s ear, ‘Why don’t you see if Ellie and the girls fancy a dance?’ she whispered. At these words, the little boy leapt up and started to bounce up and down with delight. He looked over at Cat who nodded with smiling encouragement. Before long the others had joined in and Cat found her moment to make an escape. She glanced at Finn imperiously but he merely smiled and nodded. She left the room feeling irritated and annoyed that she had allowed a stranger to wind her up so easily. She met her brother in the hall.
‘Sorry, Cat, that took a bit longer than expected. Charlie’s been a tad challenging of late. Are you going?’
Cat looked pained. ‘I have to. I’ve got somewhere I need to be but I’ll call you in the week, okay?’
Andrew did his best to mask his disappointment. ‘Okay. Thanks for coming.’
She had smiled and waved as she walked swiftly back to her car, before driving back to her real life without a backward glance.
Cat felt a similar sense of relief now after ending the call with Andrew. She did worry about her little brother and was sorry for Melissa. She resolved to get some flowers delivered to Melissa and her mum, send the kids an extravagant present and take Andrew out for lunch next week.
Family taken care of, Cat made her way back through the bar to Ava and another round of mojitos. She smiled and waved at the various people she knew. She felt at home here. It was full of like-minded individuals – vibrant and creative people, getting on with the important business of life. Cat loved this world and despite Ava’s reservations, she was as happy as it was possible to be. Work hard. Have fun. No drama. That was Cat Nightingale’s mantra and she followed it to the letter.
Chapter Two (#ulink_e09b0939-ad57-59a4-8cc6-4eeb7d0ed57a)
Cat stood on the platform waiting for her train, phone in hand, flicking through the morning’s news. Checking Mail Online, Cat was relieved that there were no overnight pictures of Alvarro stumbling out of a nightclub or posing with another Page Three model. She took a sip of her coffee and glanced up as the packed Tube pulled in to the station. Tucking her phone in her bag ready for the imminent loss of signal, Cat boarded the train, making her way down to the middle of the carriage where there was always more space.
A woman struggled aboard behind her with a pushchair, trilling thanks as people stepped back for fear of bruised ankles. The carriage was silent but Cat could guess people’s thoughts as their bodies bristled with irritation at this unwelcome intrusion into their fast-moving, adult world. Who brings a baby onto the Tube at this time of the morning? The woman was breathless with exertion but managed to park her buggy by the opposite door and bundle the fretful baby into her arms.
A man in his early twenties, neatly bearded and obviously terrified of anything under the age of ten, leapt up from his seat right by where Cat was standing. The woman beamed at him with weary gratitude, flopped down into the vacated seat and planted a reassuring kiss on the baby’s ear. The baby was looking all around, wide-eyed and alarmed by the serious, unsmiling faces surrounding her. Cat did her best to ignore the baby but it started to make an insistent noise and stare at her as if she were the only one who could answer its highly complex gurgling question. Cat had little experience of babies but from the time she’d spent with her brother’s children, she knew that this sound was unlikely to decrease and therefore action was required.
She glanced down at the baby and gave it a warm smile, something akin to the look she might give a celebrity client who had come to her with an image problem: sympathetic, empathetic and wholly reassuring. It was a look that said: Everything is going to be okay.
The baby stared into her eyes as if trying to glean the truth, a frown hovering on its brow like a question mark. Cat held her breath. The baby raised its eyebrows and then lifted its mouth in a smile before issuing forth a small giggle.
The baby’s mother smiled. ‘Oh, have you made a new friend?’ she cooed. Cat assumed she was talking to the baby and hoped that her work was done. The baby giggled again, her eyes fixed on Cat, hungry for more interaction. ‘Aww she loves you,’ said the mother encouragingly, her face open and ready for Cat to say how much she loved her too. Cat looked at the baby. It reminded her of a miniature Winston Churchill but she was pretty sure you weren’t meant to say these things out loud. Besides, she was a PR professional, practised at diplomacy.
‘She’s gorgeous,’ she proclaimed with a sincere smile.
The mother was delighted. ‘How many do you have?’ she asked. And there it was. That presumption. It wasn’t the woman’s fault and Cat was used to it. Barely a week went by without her having to tell someone that she wasn’t married, didn’t have children and had no plans to. It had begun when she’d hit thirty. During her twenties, it was seen as a mistake to have children but as soon as she had reached thirty, opinion began to shift. People started to get married, have babies, and she was left having to justify herself. At first, she had been quite huffy about the whole thing but she soon realised that this was pointless. People had their opinions and you rarely changed their minds. She had various stock responses ready depending on the person she was talking to.
‘I’m terrified of childbirth.’ This one worked well on men as it usually nipped the conversation in the bud immediately because they were terrified too, particularly if they had experienced their other half going through the whole eye-popping process.
‘It’s fine. I’m going to work for Google and they’ll freeze my eggs for me,’ she would say to anyone who used the phrase ‘biological clock’.
If she encountered more persistent or belligerent questioning she sometimes used statistics about divorce or an overpopulated world. This was a last resort as it sounded preachy but it usually did the trick.
However, talking to mothers like the one questioning her now required a different strategy. This woman had assumed that Cat, who had bonded so convincingly with her own baby, had to be a mother. There was no other explanation and Cat couldn’t bear the disappointment and pity she would have to endure if she told the truth. Cat could see that this woman was a fully paid-up member of the motherhood club and she wanted Cat to swear her allegiance too – to pretend blithely that life was better with children, that sleepless nights were good for the soul or that having children completed you.
Cat didn’t believe this. She liked Hermès bags, not eye-bags and she didn’t think this made her a bad person. Of course, she rarely uttered this sentiment out loud. People who worked in Cat’s world or enjoyed the lifestyle she did were easily dismissed as shallow and superficial. Cat was neither of these things. She simply knew what she liked. She loved her job, the lifestyle it afforded her, her two-bedroom house in a cool but edgy corner of Shoreditch, the weekends away, five-star holidays to the best resorts, first-class travel. She had it all.
If Cat spoke of her long-held assertion that she needed neither a child nor a man to complete her existence or of the fact that she was happy without either, she knew how it would end. The woman would try to convince her otherwise or worse, she would go quiet and Cat would know that this silence merely shrouded a smug conviction that women in their mid-thirties who had chosen careers over families were missing out. Cat had more sense than to wander down that particular conversational cul-de-sac. She had argued in the past but there was no point. People projected their own lives onto other individuals. It was understandable. It was the only frame of reference that they had.
The woman was looking at her expectantly now, longing for them to bond over tales of traumatic C-sections and problems with breastfeeding. Cat smiled.
‘I have three children,’ she lied. ‘Jean, Paul and…’ don’t say Ringo ‘…Georgie. They’re adorable.’
‘Three! Wow, that must keep you busy,’ said the woman admiringly. ‘She’s my first and I’m exhausted. I can’t imagine how you manage with three.’
‘You just manage, don’t you?’ Cat smiled. She noted with some relief that they had reached her station. ‘This is my stop. It was lovely meeting you.’ She paused to place a hand on the baby’s big head as she turned to leave. ‘Well goodbye – ’ Winston, Winston, don’t say Winston.
‘Winnie,’ said the woman. ‘Named after my granny.’
Cat choked down a giggle as she reached the door. ‘Goodbye, Winnie,’ she said wearing her best PR smile. As soon as the train reached the station, she stepped off onto the platform and disappeared into the crowd, her mind already fixed on the day ahead.
She glided along with the flow of commuters out of the station and along the street towards the Hemingway Media offices. It was a short walk to the modern brick building, designed by an overexcited architect who had wanted to give it a minimalist, warehouse air. She recalled the day that she and Jesse had come to view the offices. They had expanded since the company was formed at the start of the noughties and Jesse wanted them to move somewhere more central and happening as opposed to the top floor of his Mews house, which he had inherited from his wealthy grandparents. She had remembered her feelings of frustration as the architect, fresh from college, droned on about conceptual space and creative oxygen.
‘It’s totally designed with the Creative in mind, yes? The space is huge, airy, light and filled with creative oxygen, yes? You can breathe it in and – ’
Fart out the ideas? Cat had thought. She glanced at Jesse who was lapping it all up like a newborn kitten. That was the problem with Jesse. He got so caught up in an idea that he just ran with it. She had to rein him in sometimes but he loved this. They were a good team.
‘And the glass is integral to the creative process, yes? It enables you to look in and out, yes?’
Yes, thought Cat. Windows tend to do that.
‘We’ll take it,’ said Jesse. ‘It’s perfect. Isn’t it perfect, Kit Kat? Don’t you just love it?’ he had cried, throwing out his arms and dancing her round the empty room.
She had looked into his clear green eyes, bright like a cat’s, and given in immediately. ‘I think it’s great,’ she said only telling a half-lie. For she always gave in to Jesse. She couldn’t help it. She loved him and would do anything for him. She sometimes wondered what would have happened if that ‘moment’ at university had become a reality; would they have stayed together and been happy? She couldn’t picture it somehow but that was just fine. It was academic and this set-up was perfect. They could enjoy harmless flirtation without the complication of a relationship. It was like a perpetual first date with the delicious air of hope and possibility still lingering, unlikely to be quashed by the inevitable reality of sex, feelings and all the drawbacks these threatened to bring. For a woman who kept her heart tucked far away from her sleeve and had stopped believing in romance a long time ago, it suited Cat perfectly.
She had been sorry to leave their snug little offices though. The new building was drafty and the goldfish bowl meeting rooms energy-inefficient, but it did give them a more professional air in a bid to become real players in the PR world.
‘Morning, Stan.’ Cat smiled as she strode with confidence through the revolving doors. ‘How’s Maud doing?’
‘Better thanks, Miss Nightingale. The new tablets seem to be working,’ said the septuagenarian security guard, grinning up at her from the front desk.
‘Glad to hear it. Give her my love, won’t you?’
‘I will. She said to thank you for the flowers. Said she’s going to send you in some of her jam once she’s back on her feet and up to making a pan.’
‘Tell her not to overdo it,’ said Cat with a kind smile.
‘I will. Have a good day, Miss Nightingale.’
‘Thank you.’ Despite her protestations, Stan always addressed her in this way. She rather liked it deep down. It made her feel as if they were on the set of Mad Men. She rode the lift to the second floor and rounded the corner into reception. Jenna, their vivacious receptionist, was already in full flow.
‘Hemingway Media. Good morning! Please hold, Mr Oliver; I’ll put you through. Mr Hemingway? Mr Oliver for you. You’re welcome. Hemingway Media. Good morning!’
Cat nodded hello and strode down towards her office, which was located next to Jesse’s. She could see him through the window, feet up on the desk, casual blue shirt unbuttoned at the neck, his hand running through his dark brown hair as he laughed at what the caller was saying. He grinned and waved as he spied her walking past. She smiled and made her way into her office. Despite her reservations about the building, she loved this office. It was a perfect space and she had made it her own. Her wide weathered oak desk and specially designed ergonomic chair sat in the centre of the room. Two Lissoni sofas faced each other with an Oka glass coffee table nestled in between. On one wall hung a huge photograph of Grace Kelly, which Jesse had bought for her when they moved here. Grace stared down at Cat with a look of cool indifference. She was the woman Cat admired most in the world. She’d really had it all and had even become a real-life princess. Not that Cat wanted to be a princess but she admired her style and the way she had glided through life with serenity and grace.
As Cat put down her handbag and placed her iPad into its docking station, her phone began to ring. She glanced at the caller ID before answering.
‘Andrew? Are you all right?’ Her brother rarely phoned her during the day.
‘Well actually I’ve got a bit of a problem.’
‘What is it?’
‘Work want me to fly to Brussels this afternoon.’
‘Oh?’
There was a pause. ‘And I’ve got no-one to look after the kids.’
‘Oh.’
Andrew’s words came thick and fast. ‘I wouldn’t normally ask but it’s the summer holidays and I can’t get hold of anyone. If I could drop the kids to you late afternoon, could they come and stay with you for just one night? I’m due back first thing tomorrow morning so I could pick them up from the office and then they’re going to a friend’s. I’m really sorry to ask but they can amuse themselves until you’ve finished for the day.’
Cat’s mind raced with thoughts of tonight’s dinner with Alvarro and tomorrow’s launch but she could also hear the desperation in her little brother’s voice. It was the same pleading voice he’d used as a little boy.
‘Please can Bear and me sleep in your bed with you?’ he’d asked, face forlorn, his knitted lopsided teddy tucked under his arm.
Her heart melted now as it had done then. ‘All right then. Just for tonight though.’
‘Thank you, Cat. You’re my favourite sister,’ he joked.
‘It would be more of a compliment if I weren’t your only sister but I’ll take it.’
‘I’ll drop them off around three, okay?’
‘Okay,’ said Cat with a rising sense of dread. ‘Do you think they’ll be okay with me?’
There was a pause before Andrew said, ‘They’ll love it. Staying with their Auntie Cat? They’ll be so excited.’
‘You never were a very good liar.’
‘I will give them strict instructions to be very excited then. Honestly, it’s only one night. They’ll be fine. You might even enjoy it.’
Cat doubted this very much. ‘I better get some work done. I’ll see you later.’
‘Okay and thanks again. You’ve saved my life.’
Cat picked up her office phone and dialled a number. ‘Lauren? Could you be an angel and get me a flat white with an extra shot, please. Something tells me I’m going to need it today. And could you ask Dan to pop in for a chat as soon as he’s able.’
As Cat opened the front door to her bijou terraced house later that evening, she felt uncharacteristically flustered. She had been in charge of her nephew and niece for approximately four hours and could honestly say that it had been the most stressful experience of her life.
When Andrew arrived, alarm bells started to ring. Charlie was trailing reluctantly behind whilst Ellie was pulling her father by the hand like an overexcited puppy. Andrew smiled sheepishly as he entered her office and looked apologetic as he tried to coax Charlie to speak. The boy wouldn’t even look at his aunt whilst Ellie flung her Frozen rucksack to one side and began to take in her surroundings with enthusiastic hunger. She bounced her way along Cat’s sofa as the verbal tidal wave began.
‘Ooh this is bouncy, I like it, who is that?’ she asked pointing at the picture of Grace Kelly. Cat opened her mouth to speak, failing to understand that six-year-olds don’t really have time for answers. ‘Is that your desk? It’s big isn’t it? Is that your computer? Can I touch it? Is this where you do your work?’ She had bounced her way to the end of the sofa and was now making herself comfortable on Cat’s swivel chair. ‘Whee!’ she cried whizzing round before pausing to pick up Cat’s office phone. ‘Hello? Can I have a milkshake, please?’ She giggled with delight. ‘This is fun.’
Cat felt her shoulders bristle with tension. ‘Is she always like this?’ Cat whispered to her brother. She noticed that Charlie had slumped down on the sofa, hood up, arms folded.
Andrew screwed up his face. ‘Pretty much but she’s a bit hyped-up today because of coming to see Auntie Cat, aren’t you, Ellie?’
‘Wheeee!’ cried Ellie in reply, whizzing round again on the chair.
‘Thank you so much for this,’ said Andrew. ‘Are you sure you’ll be okay?’
Cat gave her best PR smile. ‘We’ll be fine, won’t we, kids?’ Neither answered.
Andrew kissed his sister on the cheek. ‘I owe you big time. Right, kids, come and give your dad a hug.’ Ellie flew to her father whilst Charlie remained rigid with arms folded. Andrew gave him a nudge. ‘Now listen, you two, you be good for Auntie Cat and I’ll be back tomorrow, okay?’
‘Okay, Daddy,’ said Ellie with an angelic smile.
Charlie buried his head in his father’s chest. Andrew sat down on the sofa and put an arm around him. ‘Hey, fella, it’s going to be okay. Auntie Cat will take care of you, like she used to take care of me, okay?’ Charlie nodded his head but didn’t look up. Andrew glanced at his watch. ‘Right, Daddy’s got to go and get his flight. I’ll see you all tomorrow, all right?’ said Andrew taking his leave.
‘All right, Daddy. I love you,’ said Ellie giving him a gap-toothed grin.
‘Love you too, princess.’
He ruffled Charlie’s hair and gave a final wave before disappearing out of sight. Cat, Ellie and Charlie stared at one another for a moment as the stunned realisation finally hit Cat that she was in charge. ‘So,’ she said trying not to betray the panic in her voice, ‘why don’t you play with whatever toys you’ve brought while I do some work?’
Ellie looked disappointed but sat down and started rummaging in her bag anyway. Charlie seemed happy with this instruction, his face furrowed with concentration as he settled into a game on his iPad. Cat breathed a sigh of relief and took a seat at her desk ready to work. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as bad as she feared.
Of course, having never really dealt with a six-year-old, Cat had little or no experience of the concept of boredom thresholds. Seven minutes later, Ellie tossed her sticker book to one side and sidled up to her brother. ‘What you doing?’ she asked.
‘Playing Minecraft.’
‘Can I watch?’
‘No.’ Charlie was used to his sister and knew how to deal with her intrusions. Ellie harrumphed and folded her arms. Charlie ignored her so Ellie had to look elsewhere for entertainment. She peered over at Cat who was ensconced in the task at hand. Ellie looked around the room and began to make a dripping tap noise with her mouth.
‘Stop it, Ellie, you’re being annoying,’ snapped Charlie.
Cat glanced over at her. Ellie took this as an immediate invitation. She wandered up to Cat’s desk. ‘What you doing?’
‘I’m working,’ said Cat not looking up, hoping that Ellie would take the hint. She didn’t.
‘Can I help?’ asked Ellie moving closer, making it impossible for Cat to move her mouse or type.
Cat did her best to keep her voice level. ‘Not really. Why don’t you go back and play, like Charlie?’
‘I don’t want to,’ said Ellie plainly.
Cat was stumped. She had no frame of reference for this. ‘Well what do you want to do?’
‘Play with you,’ said Ellie.
Cat felt desperate. ‘I’m sorry but I’ve got to work.’
‘Can I have a biscuit?’
‘Erm, I’m not sure if I’ve got any.’
‘You don’t have any biscuits?’
‘I’ve got an apple.’
Ellie scowled. ‘Can’t eat apples ’cos of my wobbly teeth,’ she said, opening her mouth and probing at a particularly unstable-looking front tooth with her tongue.
Cat winced. She was a practised problem solver but she had no idea how to make this small person stop demanding her attention or sharing her dental freakiness. ‘I could try and find you a biscuit,’ she offered desperately.
‘Ooh yay biscuits!’ cried Ellie, skipping around the room. Cat sighed and got up. ‘Can I come with you?’ asked her niece, leaping up and down.
‘All right. Would you like a biscuit, Charlie?’ The boy shook his head without looking up. ‘Right. Good. Biscuits,’ said Cat, making her way towards the kitchen. Ellie smiled and gave everyone they met a cheery hello. Jesse was making himself a coffee in the kitchen as they entered.
‘Hey, Kit Kat, how are you doing?’ He glanced at Ellie. ‘Wow, the interns are getting younger and younger.’
Cat smiled. ‘This is my brother’s daughter, Ellie. He had a crisis and you know how I love a crisis.’
Jesse laughed. ‘Rather you than me. Hello, little lady.’
Ellie frowned at him. ‘Hello, big man.’
He smiled and turned back to Cat. ‘So what about tonight’s dinner?’
‘Dan’s going. I’ve briefed him fully and he’s going to call me if there are any problems.’
‘Are you sure he can handle it? I would go but it’s Alex’s birthday and we’ve got reservations at Nobu.’
‘Who’s Alex? Is she your daughter?’ asked Ellie nosily. ‘What kind of cake is she having? I had a Frozen one for my last birthday. I love Frozen.’
Cat ignored her niece. ‘It will be fine. Dan is our resident football expert and he speaks Spanish so he’s just the man to look after Alvarro.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘Trust me, the dinner is due to finish at ten and Alvarro will be tucked up in his hotel by eleven so that he’s all fresh and ready for the launch tomorrow.’ Unimpressed by being ignored, Ellie had decided to make her own fun and was currently experimenting with the water cooler. ‘Ellie, what are you doing?’ cried Cat as water seeped slowly across the kitchen floor.
Ellie took a step to one side and put down the cup. ‘Somebody spilt that,’ she said innocently.
‘I’ll leave you to it,’ said Jesse.
Cat grabbed handfuls of paper towels in a bid to soak up the mess. Ellie watched her with interest. ‘Can I have that biscuit now, please?’
Exasperated, Cat found the biscuit tin. ‘Just take it!’ she said.
Ellie eyed her suspiciously. ‘There’s no need to be so cross,’ she said, taking the tin and leaving the kitchen. ‘It was just an accident.’
Cat took a deep breath and did her best to clear up the mess. She made a strong pot of coffee and carried it back to her office. Charlie was exactly where she had left him, shoulders hunched, eyes glazed as he played his game. Ellie, on the other hand, had made herself comfortable at Cat’s desk and was talking to someone on the phone.
‘Ellie, give me the phone now!’ cried Cat in a panic.
Ellie looked up in surprise and passed the phone without a word. She skulked back to her seat and began unhappily shovelling biscuits into her mouth.
‘Hello?’ said Cat into the phone.
‘Cat? It’s Will. What the hell is going on? Was that a child answering your phone?’
Cat’s stomach sank. ‘Sorry, Will, it was just my niece and – ’
‘I don’t want to hear it, Cat. I was phoning to check we’re okay for tonight and tomorrow.’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Are you sure? Because I’m starting to get concerned.’
‘You don’t need to worry. Everything is under control.’
‘All right. See you tomorrow.’
Cat hung up before turning to Ellie. ‘Don’t ever touch my phone again,’ she snapped. Ellie’s lip began to wobble. Cat panicked. ‘Now don’t cry, Ellie. You don’t need to cry.’
But it was too late. Ellie’s body trembled and tears coursed down her face. Cat watched helplessly as Charlie put down his game and went over to comfort his sister. He glared at his aunt. ‘You don’t have to be such a mean cow. She’s just a little girl. She’s a bit naughty sometimes but only because she wants attention.’
Cat was stung by his words. ‘I’m sorry. It’s just that I have to work, you see?’ she said pathetically.
Charlie shrugged. ‘Whatever. Come on, Ellie, I’ll play a game with you,’ he said.
Cat felt wretched as she returned to her desk. The children were occupied now with a drawing game. She noticed that Charlie occasionally whispered comments to Ellie and they would glance up at Cat and giggle. It made her feel uncomfortable and even though they were quiet she found it increasingly difficult to concentrate.
‘How do you ever get anything done?’ she wailed to her brother when he phoned later that evening.
Andrew gave a wry chuckle. ‘Welcome to my world, dearest sister. Did you remember to feed them? They’re evil when they’re hungry.’
‘I ordered takeaway pizza,’ admitted Cat.
‘I bet that won you some brownie points.’
‘Hmmm.’ In fact, the children had been quiet and sullen. They seemed to retreat into their own little world after the incident at the office and it was clear that Cat wasn’t welcome.
‘Well obviously bedtime wasn’t a problem. Clearly you’re a natural,’ offered Andrew with cheerful encouragement.
Cat gave a hollow laugh. In fact Charlie had overseen the bedtime routine, making sure his sister cleaned her teeth properly and tucking her in after she insisted that he do it. He had played on his iPad for a short while before taking himself off to bed.
‘Night then,’ Cat had ventured, receiving a barely audible grunt in reply. She had poured herself a large glass of wine as a reward and carried it into the living room. Noticing the contents of Ellie’s rucksack strewn across her normally pristine lounge floor, she had reached down to repack them. She picked up one of Ellie’s drawings of a very tall lady with ears like a cat and the label ‘Cross Aunty Cat’, to which Charlie had added the words ‘smells of poo’. Her immediate reaction had been one of hurt and then she felt ridiculous. Her thoughts had been interrupted by Andrew’s phone call.
‘“Natural” isn’t exactly the word I would use,’ said Cat. ‘Just make sure you don’t have any more last-minute business trips while Melissa’s away.’
‘I’ll do my best,’ laughed Andrew.
‘Right well I need to go and do the work I couldn’t finish because of your children,’ she joked.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ replied Andrew. ‘And thanks again – you saved my life.’
Cat hung up and flicked her phone to her social media channels, noting several texts from Dan reporting that all was well at the dinner. As Cat spent the next hour catching up on everything that had happened in the last few hours, she became aware of a new and unusual sensation. It all felt like a bit of an effort and she realised that she was tired and distracted by the presence of the children. She felt disconcerted by her inability to focus on her job while they were around, as if her brain were in two places at the same time. She shook it off as something temporary and carried on working, knowing that she would be dissatisfied if she didn’t. In Cat’s mind, today’s episode only served to vindicate her decision to remain single and child-free. Her life was ordered and organised and even though she was happy to help her brother, she couldn’t wait for the moment when they’d be gone and she could return to normal.
Tiredness got the better of her and she fell asleep. She was woken at midnight by the sound of her phone ringing. It was Jesse. She immediately knew that something was wrong.
‘Cat, we’ve got a serious problem.’
‘What’s up?’
‘Alvarro’s gone AWOL. The pictures are all over the internet. I’ve just had the CEO of Daily Grind on the phone. They’re cancelling the launch.’
‘Shit. What’s he done?’
‘Apart from being photographed snorting cocaine with a prostitute and getting into a fight?’
‘Oh God. Where was Dan when this was going on?’
‘Oh he’s in the pictures too. So much for trusting him to take care of things. We’re finished, Cat. Completely finished.’
Chapter Three (#ulink_03b7b04d-9e0c-5751-a8bf-608155074ea3)
Cat opened her eyes and as the reality of the last twenty-four hours hit her, she closed them again. She could hear her phone’s murmuring buzz from the drawer where she had tossed it last night. She never put her phone on silent and she never shut it away but she had broken both habits since the events of Wednesday. However, these particular changes were the least of her worries. She had effectively lost everything: her job, her reputation, her life as it had been up to that point.
The fallout had been immediate and severe. She hadn’t even gone into the office; Hemingway Media was under siege. There were members of the press at the front door trying to talk to anyone who entered and the phone was ringing off the hook. Every journalist loves a cock-up and this particular cock-up was gold dust because it contained the nation’s top-three scandal ingredients: an overpaid footballer, a prostitute and drugs.
Of course, in the social media arena of damning judgement, someone had to be blamed and, naturally, it wasn’t going to be the superstar footballer. True, he had lost his sponsorship deal with Daily Grind but his agent, Will, had already hired another PR firm to deal with damage limitation. Alvarro was sorry – he apologised to the fans, his club; he was stupid and young and didn’t know what he was doing; he was photographed looking contrite next to his stern-faced mother; she became an immediate internet star and he was in the clear. He was still a brilliant footballer with a bright future ahead of him. He promised to go into rehab and sort out his problems.
For Cat, the future was decidedly murky. Ironically, she had met with Jesse at the branch of Daily Grind round the corner from their office. He was grim-faced. Daily Grind were threatening to sue for loss of income and Alvarro’s agent, Will, had already put in a call to Hemingway Media’s American backers, demanding his pound of flesh. Cat had been in PR long enough to know how these things worked but she still nurtured a secret hope that Jesse might have a solution.
‘What did Donald say?’ asked Cat, trying to keep her voice calm. Donald Carter was the CEO of Greenwich Media who had a sixty per cent stake in Hemingway. Cat had only met him once and remembered his vice-like handshake and disturbingly hairy knuckles. He had a tough reputation and five ex-wives.
‘Well, he sort of bellowed and I sort of listened with the phone at quite a distance from my ear,’ admitted Jesse.
‘I’m sorry, Jesse,’ said Cat quietly. ‘This is all my fault.’
Jesse noticed her worried face and reached out his hand. ‘No no, Kit Kat. I don’t think you could have changed anything even if you’d been there.’
‘I could have taken Alvarro back to his hotel and chained him to the bed,’ asserted Cat.
‘To be honest, I think he would have enjoyed that,’ observed Jesse, raising one eyebrow suggestively.
Cat gave him a weak smile. ‘I’m guessing Donald wants a scalp,’ sighed Cat, staring at her hands. ‘I’ll step down.’
‘I can’t ask you to do that,’ said Jesse quietly.
Cat shrugged. ‘I know Dan being fired won’t be enough for Donald or Will and I should have been there.’ She felt tears prick her eyes and brushed them away angrily. Cat Nightingale did not cry.
‘Hey,’ said Jesse taking hold of her hands. ‘It’s okay, Kit Kat. What do we always say? Shit happens and we turn up with a shovel and chuck it over next door’s fence. This will be old news soon.’
She nodded and he took hold of her hands and looked into her eyes. ‘I’m going to tell Donald that you’ve stepped down but only temporarily. It will show him that we’re taking a stand but he knows how good you are. He’s no fool. He won’t want to lose someone with your reputation to the competition so we’ll call it a temporary suspension. On full pay, of course.’
Suspended on full pay. Cat felt sick at the thought. ‘Do you think he’ll agree to it?’
Jesse put a hand on his heart. ‘Trust me, I’ll make him agree.’ He was full of confidence. Cat had no choice but to believe him. He’d never let her down before.
As they said goodbye, he kissed her on the cheek and hugged her. It wasn’t a PR affectation but an affectionate embrace. She held on to him for a moment, taking comfort from his warmth. After he left, she looked around at the busy, buzzing coffee shop – the people moving with purpose through their lives. She felt the panic rise up. Cat was never idle; she was always busy. She quickly gathered her things and hurried to the Tube; got to keep moving, don’t stop to think about it.
For the rest of the day, she was glued to her iPad. Social media had underpinned her existence for so long, she didn’t know what else to do. Of course every newsfeed was taken over by Alvarro but only the PR insiders knew of her involvement in the debacle. She tried to skirt around it, to join in tweet-chats with her usual PR clique but it soon became clear that she had been frozen out as they either gave cursory replies or failed to respond. Only Ava sent her a Direct Message later that afternoon.
Ava Jackson @avamwah Just Now
Hey sweetie, tough deal. Drinks soon? Ax
This was typical Ava and Cat was grateful; it was a crumb of comfort in an otherwise shit day. Her phone rang continuously, mostly journalists wanting a comment. She ignored them, tiring quickly of its incessant buzzing. She knew she was in trouble when by eight o’clock that evening she had shut her phone in a drawer, was lying on her bed in her pyjamas, nursing her third glass of wine and watching reruns of America’s Next Top Model.
Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of someone knocking loudly on her front door. She considered pulling the duvet over her head and hiding under the covers but the sight of the empty wine bottle on the bedside cabinet gave her a much-needed reality check. Cat was not about to fall apart. She had to pull herself together. The events of yesterday were a mere blip and she would not wallow in self-pity or drink herself into a stupor. The knocking grew louder and more persistent, so she threw on her dressing gown, smoothed her hair and prayed that her breath smelt better than it tasted. She was surprised but not disappointed to find Andrew peering through the glass in the front door, a worried frown on his face. She opened the door.
‘Don’t say a word about my appearance,’ she warned as she stood back to let him in.
‘I’m a bloke. We don’t notice stuff like that. Mind you, you do look like shit,’ he joked.
‘Thank you. Blame Alvarro Diaz.’
‘Want me to go and kick him in the ankles?’ asked Andrew, his eyes twinkling. ‘Because no-one messes with my big sis.’
Cat laughed in spite of herself. ‘Would it help?’
‘Probably not but the offer’s there and I do feel partly to blame.’
‘So you should,’ joked Cat. ‘Don’t worry about it. It was going to happen regardless. Anyway, where are your children? Have you sold them into slavery?’
‘Tempting but no. They’re at a friend’s.’
‘Oh well it’s nice that you came to check on your sister.’
‘Actually I have an ulterior motive,’ admitted Andrew.
‘Just as long as you don’t want me to look after your children during my “career break”,’ said Cat making air quotes.
Andrew bit his lip and tried not to make eye contact with his sister. Cat stared at him in horror. ‘Was that the real reason you came to see me?’
Andrew pretended to be offended. ‘No-o. I wanted to check you were okay but I’d be lying if I said the thought hadn’t occurred to me.’
‘Well you can banish that thought right now.’
‘Why?’
‘Do I need to spell it out? Your children don’t like me and I don’t have the first clue how to look after kids. Do you really want to risk leaving them with me?’
‘Yes.’ Cat shook her head in exasperation as Andrew continued. ‘I think it would be good for all of you. It’s about time my children got to know their aunt and I think it would be good for you too.’
‘What do you mean?’
Andrew was silent for a moment as if choosing his words carefully. ‘Well it’s not as if you’ve got a lot on at the moment and it would really help me out.’
‘Oh no, don’t start that tugging at my heartstrings. You’ll be dragging Bear out and asking me to sing you to sleep next.’
‘I’ve got him in the car actually.’ Andrew grinned. ‘Seriously, Cat, where’s the harm? You’ll be helping me out and you might even enjoy it.’
‘I wouldn’t say that our sleepover was a resounding success.’
‘But that was only one night and it was all very last-minute. You were stressed with work and the kids were wound-up and tired. This will be different.’
Cat stared at the ceiling. He’d got her. She was at a loose end and her brother needed her; there was nothing she could do.
‘Fine,’ she said, getting up from her chair. ‘I’ll go and dig out my body armour now.’
Andrew grinned. ‘Don’t forget your helmet and shield,’ he joked, receiving a punch on the arm as Cat walked past. ‘Ow and thank you,’ he added.
‘Whatever,’ said Cat, climbing the stairs. ‘On your head be it when it all goes pear-shaped.’
‘It won’t.’ Andrew smiled. ‘I have great faith in you.
‘I’m glad someone does,’ muttered Cat.
Three hours later Cat was feeling more positive about the world. Her brother was cooking dinner and the children were occupied with various electronic devices whilst she remained glued to her iPad. Jesse had been right; the Alvarro story was starting to slide away and her phone hadn’t rung in the past hour. One of Cat’s strongest qualities was her resourcefulness and she could feel a plan emerging in her mind. She would look after the children until Melissa came back and use that time to maintain her contacts and ease her way back into the PR world. It was a very immediate world with a short memory and Cat had enough credibility to ride this storm. Everything would be fine; she just needed to be patient.
Charlie and Ellie had taken the news that Cat was to be their new nanny with relative indifference. Cat also had a plan in that regard. She would show the children the best summer, take them to the most fabulous places, let them experience a little of what her world had to offer. It would be educational and fun. She counted her blessings that she didn’t need to deal with nappies or toddler tantrums too. The children were bright and Cat would work on them and make them see what a good aunt she was. After all, she had dealt with some of the trickiest divas and most demanding celebrities in the past. She just needed to channel what she knew and apply it to the world of the child. How difficult could it be?
At dinner time, her question was answered. Having been told to stop playing his game, Charlie sloped into the dining room, his face clouded with irritation. He frowned at his plate.
‘I don’t like salmon,’ he said.
‘Well it’s what we’re having,’ said Andrew cheerfully, ‘so you better eat up.’
‘I don’t like it,’ repeated Charlie, scowling at his father.
‘Charlie, you eat salmon all the time.’
‘I like it,’ said Ellie brightly.
‘Shut up, squirt,’ snapped Charlie.
‘Charlie, stop this,’ warned Andrew. ‘You’ll scare Auntie Cat away.’ He was trying to keep his voice light but Cat detected a tightness to his tone.
‘Good,’ said Charlie. ‘I don’t want her here. Why can’t you take time off?’
Andrew glanced at his sister, embarrassed. ‘I can’t and Cat doesn’t have to work at the moment so she’s offered to help.’
‘She lost her job because of that stupid footballer and you asked her. She didn’t offer.’
Andrew shifted in his seat. ‘She is doing us all a favour and you are being very rude. I want you to apologise.’
‘No,’ said Charlie, staring defiantly at his father.
‘Charlie, I’m warning you. Apologise or you’ll go to bed.’
Charlie jumped up from his seat and upended his plate, scattering fish, potato and sweetcorn all over the table and floor. ‘Fine!’ he shouted, storming from the room and stomping up the stairs before slamming his bedroom door with some force.
‘Awkward,’ said Ellie, forking sweetcorn into her mouth.
Cat stared at her brother. ‘He’ll be fine. He’s just having a moment,’ reassured Andrew. They could hear Charlie shouting and screaming and throwing things around his room.
‘That’s quite a moment,’ murmured Cat.
‘When’s Mummy coming home?’ asked Ellie, jiggling backwards and forwards on her chair, seemingly oblivious to her brother’s outburst.
Andrew, who was looking up towards the noise, glanced back at his daughter. ‘I don’t know, Ellie,’ he said.
‘I hope it’s soon,’ said Ellie, casting a meaningful look at Cat.
Andrew sighed. ‘I better go and talk to Charlie. Excuse me.’ He disappeared upstairs leaving Cat and Ellie alone.
‘Charlie does that a lot,’ observed Ellie.
‘Does what?’ asked Cat.
‘Shouts and screams.’ She leant forwards and whispered to her aunt, ‘I think he’s got anger issues. That’s what I heard Mummy and Daddy say anyway.’
‘Oh. Right,’ said Cat, unnerved.
‘I don’t really like you,’ observed Ellie.
Cat was almost impressed by her honesty. ‘Well I’m sorry to hear that. I suppose we’re stuck with each other at the moment though.’
Ellie sighed. ‘I suppose we are but hopefully it won’t be for too long.’
Wow, thought Cat, talk about telling it like it is.
Andrew reappeared a moment later. ‘Everything all right down here? My, Ellie, you’ve done well. Would you like some pudding?’
‘Yes please, Daddy,’ replied Ellie angelically. ‘Is Charlie okay?’
Cat could tell that Andrew was choosing his words carefully. ‘He’s very tired so he’s gone to bed. I’m sure he’ll be all right in the morning.’
After Ellie had gone to bed, Andrew poured two glasses of wine and they carried them out into the garden. It was a warm evening, the sun casting a beautiful pale pink colour over the sky. Cat looked at her brother in the fading light. He still looked like her little brother, eyes bright like a puppy, but his youthful exuberance had been replaced by the stresses of life. He looked worn down.
‘Tell me the truth about Charlie,’ she said.
He looked up at the sky and sighed. ‘The truth is I don’t know. We had a few problems with some boys at school but that was ages ago and it all got sorted.’
‘Have you tried talking to him?’ asked Cat.
‘Of course but have you tried talking to a ten-year-old? They’re not exactly chatty, nor are they in the habit of telling you what they’re feeling.’
Cat took a sip of her wine. ‘Ellie told me that she didn’t like me.’
Andrew gave a snorting laugh. ‘She tells it like it is, that one. Reminds me of someone else I know,’ he said, glancing at his sister.
Cat pulled a face. ‘It’s not funny. Basically you’re leaving me with two small people who hate me, one of whom has anger issues.’
‘I thought Cat Nightingale liked a challenge.’
Cat raised her eyebrows. ‘A challenge yes, not an impossible task.’
Andrew looked incredulous. ‘Surely my big sister isn’t giving up?’ he teased.
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’
He raised his glass. ‘Well I would like to propose a toast to my sister’s inevitable success in the quest to get my children to like her.’
Cat shook her head and tapped her glass against his. ‘As I said, this was your idea and if it all goes pear-shaped, it’s down to you.’
Andrew looked satisfied. ‘It won’t,’ he declared. ‘In fact, I’d go as far as to say that it will be the making of you.’
Cat looked at him askance. ‘Who says I need to be “made”?’
Andrew shrugged. ‘Just that spending time with kids opens up your world a bit.’
‘Are you saying that my world is closed?’ She was irritated but doing her best not to betray it.
He nudged her playfully. ‘Oi, don’t get mardy. I’m merely pointing out that when everything is work, work, work, you can get a bit blinkered.’
‘And I suppose you’re a man of the world just because you have children?’
He laughed. ‘Hey, Lady PR, get down off your high horse. If I’m a man of the world then I’m a very tired one. All I’m saying is that kids make you re-evaluate your life. They force you to see things differently by dint of the fact that they need you.’
Cat sniffed. ‘So I am to be educated about the world by some small needy people.’
‘If you like,’ said Andrew with a grin. ‘We’ll see, won’t we?’
Cat frowned. She had forgotten how infuriating Andrew could be. He thought he knew better than her because he’d managed to reproduce smaller versions of himself. Like so many people with children, he thought he’d found the key to life but Cat knew which world suited her. This was a temporary arrangement – a mere blip in her life before she went back to what she loved best. ‘Yes,’ she said, taking another sip of her wine. ‘We will see.’
Chapter Four (#ulink_7b3e8cdc-b8a4-58bf-88d2-b206a0d9eb44)
Cat woke early the next morning with a renewed sense of purpose. She had a plan and the arrangement with her brother was only temporary. She could handle it. She was Cat Nightingale. She could handle anything. She showered and dressed in her favourite Malene Birger chinos and navy lace-detail T-shirt top from Zara. It was smart without being showy and she felt good in it; it was the perfect look for a wannabe fun auntie. She went downstairs. Ellie was watching cartoons and Charlie was playing on his iPad. So far so calm.
‘Morning!’ she said in a sing-song voice. ‘How are we today?’
‘Daddy’s gone,’ said Ellie sadly, without looking up. Charlie said nothing.
‘Well who’s for breakfast?’ she asked. ‘I’m starving and we’ve got a big day ahead.’ She sensed that she needed to keep them moving. Sitting still and moping was not an option. Fresh air and activity surely had to be the best idea.
‘I’m not hungry,’ said Charlie sullenly.
‘Me neither,’ declared Ellie, bouncing up and down on the sofa.
‘Oh that’s a shame because I think I spied some pancakes and bacon so I’ll just eat them all myself.’
‘Ooh I want pancakes,’ said Ellie. Charlie scowled at his sister with a look that said, ‘Traitor’.
Satisfied that she had one of them onside, Cat made her way to the kitchen. Ellie followed her, spouting a stream of questions. ‘Can I have maple syrup with mine, is there any juice, where are we going today, can I have a biscuit while I’m waiting, will it take long to get there, will there be toilets at the place we’re going to?’
Cat was used to needy clients but not needy six-year-olds and felt her brain start to fizz at this verbal onslaught. She flicked on the kettle, deciding that coffee would definitely help before turning to her niece. ‘Yes, don’t know, up to London, yes, not long and yes.’
Ellie seemed appeased and reached for the biscuit tin. Cat retrieved the bacon and pancakes and set about making breakfast. She felt disproportionately proud as she found the maple syrup and successfully prepared their breakfast without cremating it.
‘It’s ready,’ she called.
‘Ooh goody!’ cried Ellie, hopping into the dining room.
Charlie didn’t appear so Cat went into the lounge. He was still glued to his game. ‘Are you sure you don’t want anything? We’re going out so you should probably eat something.’
He scowled up at her. ‘I don’t want any breakfast and I don’t want to go out. Just leave me alone.’
Cat wasn’t used to being talked to like this and she also wasn’t used to people not doing as they were asked. ‘You need to have some breakfast and then we are going out,’ she said firmly.
They glared at one another for what felt like an age; Cat could see his defiance mirrored in her own. It’s a test, she thought, and I cannot lose. Not on day one. Charlie studied her expression as if trying to read her mind. She saw a hint of recognition flicker across his face – a realisation that he’d picked the wrong battle. It might have been this or a growling hunger that made him throw his iPad to one side and sigh, ‘Fine.’
Cat almost felt like doing a small victory dance as he joined her and Ellie for breakfast. A point to me, she thought. I can do this.
Ellie was tucking into a pancake, two rashers of bacon and a lake of maple syrup. ‘It’s mop as mice as Mummy’s,’ she said through a mouthful of food.
‘I wouldn’t expect it to be,’ said Cat taking a sip of coffee. ‘Now, would you like to know where we’re going today?’
‘Not really,’ muttered Charlie.
‘Is it Disneyland?’ asked Ellie hopefully.
‘No,’ replied Cat, deciding to ignore Charlie and plough on regardless. ‘We’re going on the London Eye.’
‘We’ve already done that with Mum and Dad,’ said Charlie smugly.
Cat had the trump card. ‘Yes but I’ve booked us a VIP capsule.’
‘What’s VIP?’ asked Ellie.
‘Very important person,’ said Charlie with authority. ‘It’s for posh people.’ Cat was good enough at reading humans to glean that he was secretly impressed.
‘Oh. Are we posh then?’ asked Ellie.
‘We can be for today if you like. And then if you’re good, I thought we could go to one of my very favourite restaurants.’
‘I like restaurants. Can I wear my party dress?’ asked Ellie, helping herself to another pancake and pooling more maple syrup on top.
‘If you want to,’ said Cat feeling pleased. Charlie said nothing and Cat took this as a positive sign. She sat back in her chair and reached for her phone. She had just enough time to flick through the day’s news before they needed to leave for the station.
‘We’re not allowed phones or iPads at the table,’ said Charlie, jutting out his chin in defiance.
‘Daddy says that mealtimes are family times,’ reported Ellie with a frown.
‘Sorry,’ said Cat feeling a little indignant. ‘I just need to check in for work.’
‘I thought you weren’t working at the moment,’ said Charlie, narrowing his eyes at her. Another challenge.
‘No, but I still need to keep up with what’s going on. It’s a very important part of my job,’ retorted Cat, irritated that she was allowing her ten-year-old nephew to rile her.
‘But you haven’t got a job,’ said Ellie, looking confused.
Thanks for reminding me, thought Cat.
‘Come on, Ells. Let’s get dressed,’ said Charlie, nudging his sister. He gave his aunt a superior glance as they left the room.
Left alone nursing her coffee, Cat felt a growing sense of dissatisfaction creep over her. Charlie was obviously determined to undermine her at every turn, which was going to make for a very stressful day. She tried to distract herself by reading the day’s news on her phone. Normally she would have found a discussion to join or at least added a sage comment to some big PR story but she felt almost paralysed. Cat had half-expected the world to grind to a halt without her. She knew it was a ridiculous notion but she couldn’t quite believe that Hemingway Media was still functioning in her absence. She flicked to its Twitter page. All was calm, normal and working perfectly well. She was about to tweet to Ava when a call came from upstairs.
‘Auntie Cat! We’ve run out of toothpaste and I can’t find any clean pants,’ cried Ellie.
Cat sighed. How quickly the world had changed from dynamic creativity to clean underwear. Still, she would not be defeated. Today’s project was all about giving the children a day they would never forget and perhaps even persuading them that she really was the perfect aunt.
As Andrew put a near-hysterical Ellie to bed that night and Charlie was confined to his room once again, Cat had to concede that the best-laid plans of mice and men are often prone to a visit from Mr and Mrs Cock-up. She had also realised that her limited knowledge of children’s needs was a bigger issue than she had originally anticipated.
Her first mistake had been not to monitor Ellie’s sugar intake. Apparently a spoonful of sugar may help the medicine go down but approximately two hundred and fifty of them make children hyper, then tearful and ultimately quite sick. The biscuit followed by maple syrup, raisins, candyfloss, a Coke and finally a fondant chocolate pudding accompanied by vanilla ice-cream turned out to be a very bad combination for a swiftly tiring small girl.
At first, Ellie had been the archetypal happy six-year-old, skipping along in the sunshine with her brother and aunt. Even Charlie seemed to brighten in the fresh air. When they boarded the train, he let Ellie sit by the window and even though he didn’t speak to his aunt, he talked to his sister, pointing out landmarks and making her laugh. They played word games; they didn’t invite Cat to join in but she didn’t care. She had successfully made it out of the house and onto the train with two small people. That had to be an achievement. Besides, it meant that she could check her e-mails uninterrupted. She smiled to herself as she spotted an e-mail from Jesse. He was just checking in with a question about the Paradise Rivers perfume launch but it restored her faith a little. He signed off with, ‘It’s not the same without you,’ and she felt immediate relief as she typed her reply. All would be well. The children were happy, the sun was shining, Jesse still needed her. Today would be a good day.
‘Do you have any sweets?’ asked Ellie.
Cat rummaged in the bag her brother had packed. ‘There are some raisins.’
‘Ooh yummy, thanks,’ said Ellie, accepting a box.
As they pulled in to Waterloo East, Cat stood up. ‘We’re getting off here,’ she said expecting them to follow. She made her way to the door and turned to see Ellie on her heels but Charlie trailing behind. ‘Come on, Charlie,’ said Cat stepping off the train.
‘Can you help me?’ asked Ellie staring nervously at the wide gap between the train and the platform. Cat reached up and lifted her down. ‘Wheeee!’ cried Ellie.
Cat looked for Charlie but more people had boarded the train and he was nowhere to be seen. As the train beeped, signalling that the doors were closing, she panicked and rushed along the carriage. Charlie was sitting in the seat nearest the doors calmly waving as the train pulled out of the station. ‘Little shit,’ muttered Cat feeling sick. It was a test; this was all a bloody endurance test.
‘Where’s Charlie?’ asked Ellie looking frightened.
Cat could see clearly what she needed to do. She had to get Charlie back and she had to reassure Ellie. She knew how to avert crises and hysteria; this was basically her day job. She knelt down and took Ellie’s hands. ‘Charlie is playing a game and we’re going to play too. It’s an adventure, so we need to dash up the stairs and run over the bridge and hop on another train. Okay?’
‘O-kay,’ said Ellie uncertainly.
‘Let’s go!’ cried Cat, grabbing her hand. They galloped up the stairs and Cat quickly checked for the next Charing Cross train. ‘Platform six!’ she trilled, trying to keep her voice as light as possible. As they hurtled down to the platform she could see that the train wasn’t due for five minutes. ‘Come on, train!’ she said, smiling at Ellie, her stomach churning with panic.
‘Yes come on, Mr Train!’ cried Ellie joining in.
Cat took out her phone and scanned her contacts. There were advantages to be ridiculously well connected. She dialled a number. The phone was answered immediately.
‘Savoy Hotel? How may I help you?’
‘George? This is Cat Nightingale.’
‘Miss Nightingale, what a lovely surprise. I was sorry to hear about the recent incident. A travesty in my opinion.’
‘Thank you, George. I was wondering if you could do me a favour.’
‘Of course. How may I be of service?’
Fifteen minutes later, Cat and Ellie were hurrying along the platform at Charing Cross station. She was relieved to see Charlie standing on the other side of the ticket barriers with a station official who was having a jovial conversation with an impeccably suited man wearing a top hat.
‘There he is, over there!’ cried Ellie, sprinting towards her brother. ‘Charlie, you didn’t tell me you were playing a game. I would have joined in.’
Charlie smiled sheepishly at his sister but wouldn’t look at Cat. She approached the barrier. ‘Thank you, George. You saved my life.’
George tapped his hat in reply. ‘My pleasure, Miss Nightingale, and no more games, young man. Do you hear?’ Charlie stared at the floor but gave a small nod. George seemed satisfied. ‘I hope it’s not too long before we see you again, Miss Nightingale.’
‘Me too,’ said Cat. ‘And thank you again.’
George gave a small bow and disappeared towards the exit. Ellie watched him go, wide-eyed. ‘Is that man a magician?’ she asked.
‘Of sorts.’ Cat smiled. She glanced at her watch. ‘Well we’ve missed our slot on the London Eye.’
‘Oh shame,’ muttered Charlie sarcastically.
Cat looked at him. This wasn’t going to be easy. ‘Oh-hhhh,’ said Ellie sadly. ‘I was looking forward to being a “very important person”.’
Cat spotted a hint of guilt in Charlie’s eyes. ‘Well,’ she said. ‘It can’t be helped, but we are quite near to Trafalgar Square. Shall we go there?’
‘Yesss!’ cried Ellie. ‘I love the lions and Nelson’s whatsit.’
‘Column?’ suggested Cat.
‘That’s it,’ agreed Ellie.
Trafalgar Square was teeming with tourists and the paved area between the square and the National Gallery was lined with street performers. Ellie was transfixed. She hopped and skipped her way between them. She was particularly taken by one Yoda figure who appeared to be levitating.
‘How is he doing that?’ she squealed, circling him like a puppy chasing its tail.
Cat noticed Charlie was keeping his distance. She knew she couldn’t let this morning’s drama go unmentioned. Cat might not be a child-rearing expert but she did know that every action had its consequences. Charlie had his back to her so she tapped him on the shoulder. He turned, a defiant frown clouding his face.
‘I have to talk to you,’ she said.
He shrugged as if to say, ‘Go on then.’
Cat sighed. ‘Look, I know you don’t like me and you’re not happy that I’m looking after you. Fine. If I’m honest, it wasn’t my choice.’ Charlie stared up at her. He wasn’t used to such candour from adults. Cat continued. ‘But the thing is, your dad needs me and I am happy to help because he’s my brother and I’d do anything for him.’ Charlie looked away but Cat knew he was listening. ‘I get the feeling you understand that, because I think you’d probably do anything for Ellie, wouldn’t you?’ Charlie gave a barely discernible nod. ‘So you may not like me but if you love your sister, don’t pull any more stunts like the one you pulled this morning. You scared her and you spoiled a really nice treat for her.’
Ellie bounced over to them. ‘Can I have some candyfloss and a drink, please?’
‘Okay,’ said Cat.
‘I’m sorry I spoiled your treat, Ellie,’ said Charlie.
Ellie shrugged. ‘It’s okay. Can I have some candyfloss then? And also, can I have my picture taken with Yoda? Have you seen him, Charlie? He’s really cool.’
Cat and Charlie exchanged glances before Charlie put an arm around his sister. ‘I have, Ells. Come on, let’s go and try to work out how he does it.’
Cat breathed a sigh of relief and followed them through the crowds. As they were right by the National Gallery, Cat suggested they go inside. Predictably, Charlie declared the idea to be ‘boring’ but as soon as Ellie said that she would like to see the pictures, he backed down.
Cat had always loved this place and, over the years, she had viewed it as some people might view a library – a place of calm and a refuge from the real world. She marvelled at the fact that you could be in London’s bustle one moment and then staring at Van Gogh’s Sunflowers the next. She led the children towards the modern paintings, thinking she might impress them with her favourites.
‘I like this one,’ cried Ellie, skipping over to a winter landscape scene. ‘It’s like Christmas. Why is that little man sitting in the snow though?’ she asked peering at the tiny figure.
‘Well – ’ said Cat moving next to her.
‘Can we go and see the sunflowers now?’ said Ellie moving away.
‘Okay,’ said Cat, longing to spend a minute to take in the other pictures. She noticed Charlie stayed by her side. This was a blessing as the gallery was now bustling with visitors. ‘I think you should hold my hand, Ellie,’ she said.
Ellie frowned at her. ‘I’m not a baby.’
‘I know. It’s just that there are a lot of people and how cross would your dad be if I lost you?’
‘Very cross,’ declared Ellie, placing her hand in Cat’s.
It felt odd to be holding a child’s hand and Ellie kept trying to wriggle free when she spotted something new she wanted to look at. Cat led them quickly to Sunflowers but it was impossible to get close due to the number of people gazing up in reverent awe. Cat remembered going to the Louvre and the enormous gallery where the Mona Lisa hung. She had been overwhelmed by the crowds and underwhelmed when she got close and saw how tiny the painting actually was. She looked round at the other paintings – bridesmaids at Van Gogh’s wedding. Ellie wriggled her way through and was frowning up at the painting. Charlie stood next to her. Cat excused her way through the crowd to stand alongside them.
‘What do you think?’ she asked.
‘I like them,’ said Ellie.
‘They’re dying,’ said Charlie. ‘Why did he paint dying flowers?’
Cat looked at the picture and realised that he was right. In her mind they had always been bright and alive and full of life. In actual fact at least half a dozen of the flowers were drooping. If they had been in her house, she would have thrown them out. She looked for a description, hoping that it might give her an answer for Charlie. ‘Well he painted them for his friend, another painter called Gauguin, and I think he wanted to impress him.’
‘By painting dying flowers?’
‘I think there are a few versions,’ said Cat, trying to scan through the text quickly.
‘I need a poo,’ declared Ellie.
‘Right, okay,’ said Cat, still trying to read the text.
‘Now,’ said Ellie, looking a little desperate.
A lady with a sleeping toddler in a buggy caught Cat’s eye. ‘Kids eh?’ She grinned.
Cat gave her a weak smile. She longed to shout, I am not one of you! These are not my children!
‘Come on then, you two,’ said Cat, leading them back to the entrance hall.
‘I’ll wait here,’ said Charlie.
Cat wavered. The gallery was very busy and she also wasn’t convinced that she could trust him to stay put, despite their earlier discussion. ‘I want you to come with us,’ said Ellie in a strained voice.
Charlie looked at his sister and rolled his eyes. ‘Okay, Ells,’ he said offering her his hand.
They followed the signs to the basement. ‘I’ve got a turtle!’ shouted Ellie as they sped along the marble corridor with Cat glancing back every now and then to check Charlie was still behind her. Cat’s heart sank when she saw the queue. It snaked out of the door. Could she push in declaring a faecal emergency? She could see quite a few parents ahead of her accompanied by squirming children. Probably not.
She turned to face Ellie and held her by the shoulders. ‘You’ve got to hold on, Ellie. Can you do that for me, please?’ Ellie’s face was screwed up in concentration and she looked as if she might cry.
‘Hey, Ellie,’ said Charlie. ‘What’s that song about the kookaburra that Mum always sings?’
Ellie was immediately distracted as she thought. She began a tuneless rendition and to Cat’s surprise Charlie joined in.
‘Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree-ee,
Merry, merry king of the bush is hee-ee,
Laugh kookaburra, laugh kookaburra,
Gay your life must be.’
Cat had to endure this assault on her eardrums for a further ten rounds but they reached the toilet without further drama.
‘In you go, Ellie,’ said Cat.
‘Can you come in with me?’
‘Really?’ asked Cat horrified.
‘These toilets are very dark and a bit scary.’ Cat and Charlie exchanged glances. ‘Please?’ implored the little girl.
‘O-kay but let’s be quick. I thought this was an emergency,’ said Cat feeling exasperated.
They crammed into the cubicle as Ellie sat down and began a running commentary on her bowel movement.
‘It’s coming out now and oooh, that’s much better.’
Cat stared at the ceiling and tried to pretend that she was having cocktails in Shoreditch House. Ellie went about her business and after she had wiped declared that ‘it came out clean so I didn’t really need to wipe.’
‘You stink,’ said Charlie with a grin.
‘I know.’ Ellie beamed.
‘Okay, go and wash your hands now,’ said Cat. As Ellie filled her hands with too much soap and proceeded to flood the floor beneath her basin, Cat turned to Charlie. ‘Thank you for distracting her,’ she said. He shrugged.
‘That was fun,’ said Ellie as they made their way out towards the door. ‘Can we go for lunch now, please?’
When she told Andrew later about their dining experience, he was a little too quick to point out that she should have saved herself the bother and taken the children to McDonald’s.
‘The treat aspect to eating out for kids is the fact that they’re not eating at home,’ he said plainly.
Cat did not know this and she also didn’t go to McDonald’s. Ever. Although she could remember enjoying it as a child, now she was an adult, she could afford to shun fast-food establishments and treat herself to something a little more edifying. So for Cat a meal at a Michelin-starred restaurant was something different and wonderful and she had felt sure that the children would quickly be impressed and won over. The trip to the National Gallery had been relatively successful and she decided that they all deserved a treat. Cat was no fool though. She had deliberately chosen a restaurant run by a female chef with children. She not only welcomed kids but had even designed a menu for them. It was where Cat sent all her celebrity mothers with their offspring.
‘Wow,’ was all Ellie would say as the maître d’ led them through the elegant dining room to their table.
‘Thank you, Philippe,’ said Cat with a smile as they took their places. The children looked bemused when he unfolded their napkins and placed them on their laps. Ellie beamed at Cat and she started to relax a little. Philippe brought the menus, a large one for Cat and two smaller ones for the children.
‘I sink you will be wanting ze brunch menu, Miss Nightingale?’ he asked.
‘That will be wonderful. Thank you.’ He retreated with a small bow and Cat turned to the children. ‘So they have macaroni cheese, burgers or fishcakes. What do you fancy?’
Ellie was looking around in wonder and awe. ‘I feel like a princess,’ she breathed. ‘I like the way that man talks too. Can I have macaroni cheese, please?’
Cat smiled. ‘Of course. Charlie? How about a burger?’
‘I want to go home,’ said Charlie, his face clouding over.
Cat took a deep breath. ‘Come on, let’s have some lunch eh? Ellie is looking forward to it,’ she said with meaning.
Charlie scowled at her but then caught sight of his sister’s hopeful face. ‘I’ll just have chips,’ he said.
‘All right,’ said Cat, deciding that it wasn’t worth a battle. ‘And what would you like to drink?’
‘Can I have a Coke, please?’ asked Ellie.
Charlie gave her a disapproving look and was about to open his mouth when he thought better of it. ‘Coke for me too, please,’ he said giving his aunt a rare smile.
Cat felt encouraged. She would win the children over in one single day and Andrew would have to eat his words. As she placed their order, she spotted Ava being led through the restaurant. She was with a companion whom Cat recognised as Caroline Henderson, a freelance PR consultant Cat had used for the odd campaign. Cat gave them a wave. Caroline looked embarrassed and whispered something to Ava before retreating towards the entrance. Ava made her way over to Cat’s table.
‘Darling,’ she said, kissing the air either side of Cat’s head. ‘How are you?’ She emphasised the question by glancing at the children and giving Cat a look of deep sympathy.
‘I’m fine. Really,’ said Cat with meaning. ‘What happened to Caroline?’
‘She had to pop to the little girl’s room. So!’ said Ava taking a step back.
‘I’m Ellie and this is Charlie,’ announced Ellie.
Ava raised her eyebrows at the little girl. ‘Pleased to meet you, sugar-cheeks. I’m Ava.’
‘There’s a girl in my class called Ava,’ said Ellie with authority.
‘Is that so?’ said Ava, her mouth twitching into a smile.
‘It is so,’ replied Ellie. ‘But she’s mean and I don’t like her. She once poured yoghurt on my skirt.’
‘Well that is mean,’ said Ava. ‘You should do it back to her.’
‘Should I?’ asked Ellie with intense interest. ‘Won’t I get into trouble?’
Ava leaned in to the little girl. ‘Not if no-one sees,’ she whispered.
‘Ava!’ called Caroline from the other side of the room. Cat looked towards her, ready to smile, but Caroline looked away.
Ava saw the hurt on Cat’s face. She put a hand on her friend’s shoulder. ‘Don’t give it a thought, sweetie. Caroline’s a bitch,’ she said. ‘I’ll call you, okay?’ she added before going to join her companion.
‘I like her,’ said Ellie, watching Ava sashay through the restaurant.
Cat took scant consolation from Ava’s kindness. Her comments about Caroline were true but it made Cat feel miserable that someone who would have talked to her the week before her fall from grace barely acknowledged her now. Her status had been downgraded from PR hotshot to child-caring rookie. It was not a post she relished and she felt distracted and ruffled as their food arrived. She picked at her salad and felt a growing sense of irritation as Charlie gave off an air of someone who didn’t want to be there or make any effort to enjoy her incredibly generous treat. He barely touched his triple-cooked chips. They were still there when Ellie’s chocolate fondant pudding arrived. She attacked it with gusto.
‘Eat up, Charlie,’ said Cat.
‘You eat up,’ he replied.
‘That’s a bit rude.’ Cat frowned. How dare he?
Charlie scowled. ‘Erm, I don’t care?’
‘Charlie, don’t,’ said Ellie looking worried.
Charlie stood up. ‘I’m going to the toilet,’ he said.
‘You can’t go on your own,’ said Cat.
‘Why not?’
‘Because you’re a child and – ’
‘Because I might run off again? What do you care?’ cried Charlie angrily. A couple of diners looked round. Cat noticed Caroline glance over and shake her head.
‘Stop it, Charlie, you’re embarrassing me,’ said Cat quietly.
This was the wrong thing to say. Charlie jumped up on his chair. ‘Oh, I’m embarrassing you, am I? Well I’m so sorry that I’m embarrassing Auntie Cat in front of her stupid posh friends.’
‘Get down, Charlie,’ she snapped.
‘Make me,’ said Charlie. He put a foot up on the table. Cat could see Philippe approaching. She closed her eyes for a second. This could not be happening.
‘I feel sick,’ said Ellie.
Cat opened her eyes and the first thing she saw was Ellie’s face, which had turned a peculiar shade of bluey green. The next thing she noticed was Philippe standing between her and Ellie as the small girl turned and vomited all over his pristine maître d’s jacket.
The rest of the afternoon was a blur – a miserable blur. Philippe was kind and understanding as it was his job to be. They were politely ushered to his office so they could clean up.
No, Miss Nightingale must think nothing of it. It happens all the time. I have a spare jacket just for occasions like this. Do not give it a second thought.
But Cat knew. She saw the looks and stares as they trooped out of the restaurant, the disgusted faces and judging glances. She also noticed Ava and Caroline and the way they completely ignored the whole drama. She felt numb as she led the children back to the train station. No-one spoke as they travelled home. She let them into the house and was greeted by Andrew’s cheery face.
‘I managed to finish early so I thought I would come home and see how you all were.’ His smile faded as he spotted their faces. ‘What happened?’
Andrew took immediate charge as the story unfolded. Cat marvelled at how efficiently he herded Ellie into the bath and then tucked her up in bed. He sent Charlie to his room, gave him a severe telling-off, and Cat didn’t see him for the rest of the day. She made herself a cup of tea and went into the living room feeling shaken and drained. When Andrew appeared a while later, he brought in the biscuit tin. He offered it to her.
‘Custard cream for your troubles?’
‘It’s not bloody funny,’ she said.
He gave a small smirk. ‘I know and I am sorry. I know you tried your best.’
‘But?’
He sighed. ‘You don’t have to be super-auntie and give them a million treats. Sometimes all they want to do is go to the park and feed the ducks.’
‘I thought they would enjoy it.’
‘They did. Sort of.’ She frowned at him and he put his arm around her. ‘Ellie really enjoyed the National Gallery. She said you showed them a Christmas picture and a painting of some dead flowers.’
Cat gave a reluctant laugh. ‘And what about Charlie?’
Andrew shrugged. ‘He is sorry. I think he’s struggling with Mel being away. I will get him to apologise.’
‘Hmm,’ replied Cat.
‘He admitted that he should have told you not to let Ellie have a Coke.’
Cat sighed. ‘I thought he was being too nice to me at that point.’
‘I’m sorry. That was partly my fault. You sort of assume people know this stuff but why would you?’
‘Well when you say it like that,’ said Cat a little hurt.
‘Sorry,’ said Andrew. ‘I don’t mean to preach. You’re doing me a huge favour and I really appreciate it. It’s just that kids aren’t really bothered about grand gestures. The best thing you can give a child is your time.’
‘Not an Xbox then?’
Andrew laughed. ‘Not even that.’ He stared at his sister for a moment as if he were choosing his words carefully. ‘Don’t take this the wrong way but I’ve sorted out an activity for you for tomorrow.’
‘Oh yes?’
‘Ye-es. You’re meeting up with some people at the park.’
‘Oh right,’ said Cat, not used to having her life organised for her.
‘Honestly, it will be fine. I promise. You’ll have a good time. It’s just a picnic in the park but it will mean that you don’t have to do all the running. I know it can get a bit intense if you’re on your own with the kids. Even I find that and I’m their father.’
Cat shrugged. ‘Fine,’ she said taking a biscuit. ‘But you’re making the picnic.’ That night, despite her exhaustion, Cat couldn’t sleep. She lay in bed feeling irritated by the day’s events; it wasn’t so much Charlie’s behaviour and Ellie’s vomiting drama that was bothering her, it was the looks she’d received from Caroline Henderson and the feeling that she had been shut out of the world she loved. She felt in limbo at the moment – her life hovering just beyond her control – but she told herself that as soon as Melissa was back, she would skip back to her old world without a backward glance. She was certain of this. It was another hour before she fell asleep.
Chapter Five (#ulink_ea0da589-4abf-5dad-855d-4651626e9b9d)
It was a perfect summer’s day; the temperature warm without being too hot, the sky a pleasing shade of blue with the odd wisp of cloud floating by. It was glorious. They were due at the park at eleven and, true to his word, Andrew had packed a picnic, read Charlie the riot act and left Cat directions so that there could be no hiccups.
Cat tried to ignore the way Ellie clung on to her father’s leg as he made his way to the door.
‘Have fun!’ he cried with only the merest hint of irony. Cat’s heart sank as she heard the door shut behind him. She poured herself another coffee and padded into the living room. Ellie was sitting on a beanbag, chewing a piece of dry toast and watching Tom and Jerry. She still looked a little pale but had thankfully lost the greenish hue of yesterday. She glanced up at her aunt and then back at the screen.
‘Do you want to watch with me?’ she asked.
Cat remembered Andrew’s comment about giving children time. ‘Okay,’ she said, sitting on the sofa, wondering how much she would need to contribute. Ellie’s eyes didn’t leave the screen so Cat took out her phone, longing for a moment’s connection with the outside world. She didn’t get very far.
‘You have to watch,’ said Ellie. ‘This one is really funny.’
Sighing, Cat put down her phone and glanced at the screen. Tom was wearing a concert pianist’s outfit, his face composed and serious as he played a sombre piece of music. It wasn’t long before Jerry made an appearance.
‘Look!’ cried Ellie. ‘He’s sleeping in the piano.’
As Cat watched, she began to feel a disconcerting sense of déjà vu. Her mind was transported back to when she was around eight and Andrew was four. They were sitting on a battered velvet sofa, two beakers of orange squash and a plate of digestives in front of them. A beautiful woman was perched on the arm of the sofa holding a cup and saucer containing her afternoon tea. Cat wanted to shake off the memory but she couldn’t take her eyes from the screen.
‘I love this one,’ said Ellie happily.
‘Me too,’ whispered Cat.
Ellie looked over at her, oblivious to the emotion it had stirred up in her aunt. ‘Are we going for a picnic with Daisy today then?’
Cat suddenly realised that, despite her brother’s preparations, he hadn’t actually told her who they were meeting. ‘Er yes, I think so.’ Grateful for the distraction from her memories, she hurriedly texted Andrew. The reply came straight back.
‘Claire, Izzy, James, Finn and Daisy. Said you’d meet by the café at eleven.’
Heavens, thought Cat. If anyone’s going to know how to deal with kids, it will be a woman with four children. She carried her coffee mug to the kitchen and went upstairs to get dressed. Charlie’s bedroom door was half open so Cat took a deep breath and tapped gently before going in. They hadn’t spoken since yesterday’s events. Charlie was hunched over his desk and as Cat approached she noticed that he was drawing a picture of the Sunflowers they had seen yesterday.
‘That’s really good, Charlie,’ she said, moving forwards to stand beside him. As he jumped in shock, she realised that he had been listening to music and hadn’t heard her come in. He scowled at her and tried to cover his work.
She held up her hands in apology. ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to creep up on you like that. I just wanted to say that we’re leaving in half an hour.’
His scowl loosened but only a little. ‘Are we meeting up with James and that lot?’
Cat nodded. ‘I like your picture, by the way,’ she said. He regarded her for a moment as if trying to work out if she meant it. She smiled. ‘Really,’ she said.
‘Thank you,’ he muttered. She turned towards the door. ‘Sorry about yesterday,’ he said quietly.
She looked back at him. The troublesome child of yesterday had been replaced by a little boy who looked much younger and more vulnerable than his ten years. ‘It’s okay. Let’s put it behind us and enjoy today, okay?’ He nodded. ‘Half an hour,’ she repeated as she walked out of the room.
The park was a teeming mass of overexcited small children and harassed adults. Cat could vaguely remember coming to this park on one awkward weekend trip to see Andrew and Melissa shortly after Charlie was born. She had come out of duty and recalled her brother being so tired he could barely speak and Melissa fussing around the overdressed, fractious baby. Cat had made the mistake of suggesting that he was perhaps upset because he was too hot and had received a withering glance from her sister-in-law in reply. Heaven only knew what Mel thought of this current arrangement.
They made their way along the path towards the café, a dark wooden building with a playground attached. Cat could smell the toilets before she reached them and prayed that neither child would need to go, although given Ellie’s recent record, she knew this was probably unlikely. Cat let the children lead her into the café area. There were around half a dozen picnic benches set out with brightly coloured umbrellas offering some shade against the already fierce sun.
‘There’s James,’ said Charlie, leading them to the bench nearest the playground gate where a woman was basking in the sun whilst a blond boy of around Charlie’s age sat with a football at his feet. He immediately brightened when he saw his friend.
‘Hey, Charlie. Hey, Ellie,’ he said.
The woman opened her eyes and lifted her sunglasses to peer up at them. She jumped up when she saw Cat. ‘Oh hi! You must be Cat. Lovely to meet you,’ she said holding out her hand. ‘I’m Claire.’
Cat smiled and shook her hand. The woman was small and casually dressed in cut-off jeans and a slouchy T-shirt bearing the words ‘I love happy endings’. She wore her brown hair in a loose bun and her skin was freckled from time spent in the sun. She had a friendly warmth about her that Cat liked immediately. ‘Where’s Izzy?’ asked Ellie, standing close to Claire.
‘Oh hey, Ellie-wellie.’ Claire smiled, wrapping an arm around the small girl and tickling her. Cat noticed the easy affection between them and was surprised to feel a little envious. ‘She’s over on the climbing frame. Do you want to go and find her?’ Ellie nodded and ran off. ‘But stay where we can see you,’ called Claire. She turned back to Cat. ‘Can I get you a coffee? It’s actually okay despite being made by a machine.’
Cat was more used to single-estate freshly roasted coffee but felt she should be sociable. ‘That would be lovely, thank you.’ She smiled.
‘Will you stay here with the bags while I go and get them?’
‘Sure.’ Cat felt the sun on her face and had to admit that today could turn out fine. Claire seemed lovely and the children were happy with their friends. She took out her phone to check her e-mails. She had sent a message to Jesse earlier about meeting up to discuss their plans. No reply as yet but if she knew Jesse, he probably wouldn’t get to his e-mails before lunchtime. She was just checking Twitter when Claire returned with their drinks.
‘Here you go. Oh are you on Twitter?’
‘Thanks,’ said Cat taking her coffee. ‘Yes, I use it a lot for work. It’s great.’
Claire smiled. ‘I’ve never really go into all that. Don’t have the time with the kids to be honest.’
‘I can imagine,’ said Cat. ‘Four kids must keep you busy.’
Claire looked surprised. ‘No, I’ve only got Izzy and James. That’s quite enough for me!’
‘But what about…’ Cat wracked her brains for the names ‘…Daisy and Finn?’
Claire laughed. ‘They’re not kids, well Daisy is but Finn’s her uncle. He looks after her. They’re coming along today but Finn’s always late.’
‘Oh I see,’ said Cat, feeling wrong-footed.
Claire grinned at her. ‘Don’t worry, you’ll love Finn. All the mums do. To be honest, if I wasn’t married I’d be very tempted.’ She gave Cat a sly look. ‘Are you single by any chance?’
Cat gave a little cough. ‘Yes but – ’
‘Ladies? Sorry I’m late. What have I missed?’
Claire gave Cat a nudge as they both looked up into the grinning face of a scruffy man with a mess of hair and an unkempt beard. ‘This,’ she said with grin, ‘is Finn.’
For the second time that day, Cat experienced an acute sense of déjà vu as she shook Finn’s hand and was struck by how cool his touch was. ‘Hey,’ he said, regarding her with a smile. ‘I think we may have met before. Did you ever get that snot off your jeans?’
Cat looked into his pale blue eyes, which were glittering with amusement, and an unwelcome recollection came to mind. He was the show-off who had appeared to sit in judgement of her at Ellie’s birthday party – the one who was happy to sit on the filthy floor with a group of small children and expected everyone else to want to join in. He had that all-knowing air of someone who thought that everyone else had missed the point. Cat found it highly irritating now as she had done then.
Claire laughed. ‘Oh you two already know each other, do you? Well then, that’s a good start.’ She winked at Cat.
‘We only met briefly at Ellie’s birthday party,’ said Cat with a cursory smile.
Finn clutched his heart as if he’d been shot. ‘Oh wow. Talk about dashing a guy’s hopes. And there was me thinking we had something.’ He gave Claire a mischievous grin. She giggled like a schoolgirl and Cat bristled with annoyance. She could see how this man would provide a pleasant diversion in the life of a stay-at-home mother – a little bit of banter and low-level flirting – but really, she found his smug confidence plain annoying. He was like the cock in a farmyard full of hens and for Cat the emphasis really was on the word ‘cock’.
‘I need a wee,’ said Ellie, wriggling her way over to Cat.
‘Me too,’ said Izzy brightly.
‘And me,’ said Daisy.
Cat was almost grateful to be given the opportunity to leave Finn’s company but it was Claire who leapt up. ‘I’ll go,’ she said. ‘You two stay and chat.’ She emphasised the last word with a nod and a raised eyebrow.
Cat kept her eyes fixed forwards to where Charlie and James were playing football. She noticed Finn glance over at her but didn’t feel the need to make eye contact. She would be having words with Andrew. Cat knew how his mind worked and she could bet he’d had an idea to do a little casual matchmaking whilst she looked after his kids. Why did the world have to pair all the single people off? Why couldn’t it mind its own bloody business? She felt her phone buzz with a call and gratefully extracted it from her handbag. She smiled as she saw the caller ID. She made an ‘excuse me’ face to Finn, who gave her a casual nod in reply.
‘Hi, Jesse,’ she answered.
‘Hey, Kit Kat. How are you?’
‘Itching to get back to work to be honest.’
‘Yeah, of course. I understand and we miss you a lot. Listen, I don’t really want to talk about it over the phone. Can you come to dinner tomorrow night?’
‘I’d love to.’ Cat smiled. Tomorrow was Friday night and she would officially be off duty. She longed to see Jesse too. She missed seeing him every day.
‘Great. Can you come to the house say around eight-ish? I think Alex is going out so we’ll be able to talk properly.’
‘Absolutely.’
‘Cool. Can’t wait to see you, Kit Kat.’
‘Me too,’ she said. ‘Bye.’ She finished the call and turned back to Finn. ‘Sorry about that. I had to speak to my boss.’
‘That was your boss?’ said Finn surprised. ‘I thought it was your boyfriend.’
‘No-o,’ said Cat quickly. ‘He’s not my boyfriend.’
Finn raised one eyebrow. ‘But you’d like him to be?’
Cat regarded him with a frown. ‘I’m sorry, I wasn’t aware that I’d ordered a psychologist.’
Finn grinned. ‘Apologies. I do that sometimes. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s cool.’
Cat folded her arms and studied her phone. ‘I do not want to talk about it.’ She flicked to her Twitter feed and started to read.
‘So Andrew told me you work in PR but that you’re taking a little break,’ said Finn.
Cat looked at him, expecting more judgement, but the question appeared to be genuine. ‘I made a mistake.’
‘We all make mistakes,’ said Finn. ‘What did you do?’
‘I was involved in the Diaz launch,’ she said, glancing up at him ready for a reaction. Finn looked blank. ‘You know, Alvarro Diaz? The footballer?’
‘Of course,’ said Finn. ‘He’s one of the best attacking midfielders in the world.’
‘If you say so. Well you know that coffee company launch that went spectacularly wrong?’
Finn was squinting at her now. ‘No.’
Cat was amazed. ‘How could you not know about that?’
Finn shrugged. ‘I like football but I don’t really care what the footballers get up to. Was it bad?’
‘It was very bad,’ said Cat. ‘And I had to step down from my job but hopefully not for long.’
‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ said Finn.
Cat could tell that he meant it and decided to be civil. ‘So you look after your niece, do you?’ She couldn’t hide the surprise in her voice.
‘Do you find that hard to believe?’
‘Well I suppose it’s unusual.’
‘I love it,’ he replied. ‘It helps out my sister, Ronnie, while she’s at work and I get to have all the fun.’
‘Good for you,’ said Cat. ‘I love my job too.’
‘And what about this temporary arrangement?’
Cat gave a little cough. ‘It’s proving to be an education.’
Finn laughed. ‘You’ve just got to relax and go with it.’
Cat was irritated by the insinuation that she wasn’t able to do this but their conversation was interrupted by the return of Claire and the girls.
‘Turned out to be a bit more of a lengthy visit than I’d hoped,’ she said cheerfully. ‘How about we find somewhere for a picnic, maybe on the patch of green outside the playground?’
‘Yay, picnic!’ cried Ellie.
Cat went to grab the picnic bag but Finn got there first. ‘Allow me,’ he said with a smile, walking towards the gate. ‘Boys! Food time!’ he cried. Cat noticed with secret envy how Charlie and James nodded and followed without argument.
Claire nudged Cat as they walked behind. ‘So-o, what do you think? He’s gorgeous, isn’t he?’
Cat didn’t want to get into a debate about the relative merits of this man. ‘Absolutely,’ she said flashing her best PR smile.
They spread two large picnic blankets under a large oak tree and the adults started to unpack the food. Cat opened the bag Andrew had prepared and peered at the sandwich fillings.
‘I think there’s tuna or cheese,’ she said to the children.
‘Isn’t there any ham?’ asked Charlie.
Cat could see this was another test and she wasn’t really in the mood. ‘No. There’s cheese or tuna,’ she said firmly.
‘Swap you,’ said Finn, holding out his sandwich to Charlie and smiling at Cat.
‘It’s okay, Finn,’ said Charlie, his neck flushing pink.
‘Seriously, mate. I’d rather have cheese.’
‘Are you sure?’ asked Charlie.
‘Yep. Here you go.’
‘Thanks,’ said Charlie.
Cat should have probably been grateful for this intervention but in truth she found it annoying. She ate her own sandwich in silence whilst Claire and Finn chatted. Ellie and her friends munched happily on their sandwiches. When she had finished, Ellie came and sat very close to Finn.
‘Hey, Miss Ellie. I haven’t had a chance to talk to you today. How’s tricks?’
‘Tricks are fine, thank you, Finn. Do you like my Auntie Cat?’
Finn glanced up at Cat, his eyes sparkling with amusement. ‘Well I don’t know. What do you think?’
Ellie thought for a moment. ‘She’s actually okay. She took us to a really nice restaurant yesterday but I was sick.’
‘Oh that’s a shame.’
‘Yes it was. Do you think you might want to marry my Auntie Cat?’
Cat nearly choked on the remainder of her sandwich and Finn laughed. ‘I think it’s too soon to say but probably.’
Claire grinned at Cat. ‘Good for you, girl.’
‘I’m glad my future is all sorted then,’ said Cat shaking her head.
‘You should be. I’m quite a catch,’ joked Finn.
After lunch, Cat went to buy more coffee and ice-creams for the children. When she returned, she noticed that Finn had joined the boys in a game of football. He had also picked up her beloved Kelly bag to mark the goals. ‘We needed some goalposts,’ he said with a grin. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’
It was said as a challenge. Charlie was watching her with scowling expectation. She couldn’t refuse. ‘Okay,’ she said. Never mind about marrying him, she was starting to hate this man.
They ate their ice-creams quickly and went back to the game. The girls had picked handfuls of daisies and were attempting to make daisy-chain bracelets. It made Cat falter for a second as she remembered making them as a child; why did every innocent activity she undertook with the kids bring back a forgotten memory? She sat a little distance away and watched as Claire showed them how to thread one stem through another. Cat closed her eyes and let the sun wash over her for a moment. She felt someone standing quite close to her and opened her eyes to see Ellie’s friend Daisy holding out a neat little bracelet of flowers. Cat hesitated for a second, so the little girl shoved it under her nose.
‘I made it for you,’ she said seriously. ‘You looked sad and I thought you would like it.’
Cat was amazed and touched. ‘Thank you, Daisy. That’s very sweet of you.’
‘I made you one too,’ said Ellie, pushing her way forwards.
‘And me,’ squeaked Izzy.
Claire laughed. ‘Nice to be popular, eh?’
‘Yes,’ said Cat, her voice wavering a little. ‘Yes it is. Thank you, girls.’
‘S’okay. Come on!’ cried Ellie as they skipped back to Claire.
Cat felt flustered by her reaction and decided to distract herself by checking her phone.
‘You’re a slave to social media, aren’t you?’ said Finn jogging over, picking up a water bottle and taking a deep gulp.
‘I’ll have you know that social media is the thing that makes the world go round,’ she said.
‘Is it indeed? Isn’t it just for needy people with low self-esteem constantly searching for some meaning in their lives?’
The comment was teasing but it made Cat bristle. ‘Actually, it’s very useful and necessary. It has helped people start revolutions and change the world.’
‘Oh right.’ Finn grinned. ‘How many revolutions have you started then?’ he quipped before jogging off to join the boys again.
Cat was furious. She could honestly say that she’d never met such an irritating man in her life before. She stared back at her phone. Today was the day of the Paradise Rivers perfume launch and her feed was awash with comments from supporters and trolls. The reality TV star was trending and if she had been at work, Cat would have been delighted with this result. Today, however, she felt dissatisfied. She threw her phone to one side and turned her attention to the boys’ football game. Charlie had just scored a goal, shooting the ball past James. Finn cheered and gave him a jubilant high five. Cat found his exhibitionist chumminess with the kids beyond annoying. She couldn’t believe the magnetism he seemed to have over people. She liked Claire but she could honestly say that she wouldn’t be in a hurry to meet up with Finn again.
At that moment she noticed a small dog running towards them. She watched in horror as it made a beeline for her handbag. The world seemed to move in slow motion and Cat couldn’t act in time to prevent the horror of the dog firstly sniffing and then lifting one of its tiny back legs before neatly peeing all over her prized possession.
Charlie and James fell about laughing. To his credit, Finn did shout at the dog and shoo it away but even he was suppressing a snigger as he carried the offending article back to Cat.
‘You might want to wipe this,’ he chuckled.
‘Oh no!’ cried Claire, rushing over with a packet of wipes. ‘That looks like a nice bag. Was it expensive?’
‘Yes, yes it was,’ said Cat weakly as she observed the urine-soaked green leather.
‘First rule of looking after kids,’ said Finn cheerfully, ‘never bring or wear anything that you aren’t prepared to take home covered in urine, poo, vomit or a combination of all three.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind,’ said Cat through gritted teeth.
On the way home Ellie declared it to be ‘the best day ever’, and even Charlie seemed cheerful.
Later that evening, Cat sat in the garden with her brother, nursing a glass of wine. ‘So,’ he said innocently, ‘what did you make of Finn?’
‘Smug, irritating and a know-it-all,’ declared Cat.
‘Right,’ said Andrew. ‘So you quite liked him then.’ Cat stuck out her tongue. ‘Still. The kids enjoyed it and at least you didn’t have to deal with any vomit today.’
‘No just dog’s urine,’ she observed. ‘Anyway, things are improving. Ellie told me I was “okay”.’
‘Praise indeed.’ Andrew smiled. ‘Well I think you’re doing a great job, sis,’ he added, knocking his glass against hers.
‘I’m learning to go with the flow,’ said Cat.
‘Sounds like something Finn might say,’ observed Andrew.
Cat frowned. ‘Don’t be ridiculous.’
Chapter Six (#ulink_03576050-3f9c-539e-a64c-ae23b873166d)
Cat paid the cab driver, adding a generous tip in recognition of the terrible Friday night traffic, and stepped onto the pavement, tucking the wine bottle under her arm. She looked up at the three-storey Notting Hill townhouse. The west London location had been the choice of Jesse’s wife, Alexandra, after she saw the movie of the same name and decided that if it was good enough for Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts then it was definitely good enough for Alexandra Lorenzo. Jesse had been desperate to make his supermodel wife happy and gave in quickly, despite the property’s impractical positioning for Hemingway Media’s east London offices.
Even though she travelled the globe, Alexandra had a strong sense of home and had wanted to settle somewhere not too far from her family back in Barcelona. She also found the British reserve to be at odds with her passionate Spanish nature but Notting Hill had its own cosmopolitan identity where you could be who you were, particularly if you were rich. The house had been her project, not that she had broken a nail over it, but she had enjoyed working with the best architects, project managers and interior designers money could buy.

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