Then There Was You: A Single Parent Collection

by Gianna Gabriela

  It was harder to get Jamie ready. At the age of ten he felt like he should be able to stay up later. He would delay and dawdle in getting ready. By the time he finally admitted defeat and got in bed it was quarter-past-ten.

  I headed for the sofa and flopped down next to my mum.

  “What are we watching?” I asked her, while yawning.

  “Whatever you like.” She handed me the remote control.

  I flipped the channel until an ‘Escape to the Country’ repeat came on and sat back. I kept it on low though because we would only ever half watch while we got caught up on the day. Mum had had to give up her job and so a lot of her day was spent alone.

  “How was your day?” She asked me.

  I told her about the job offer and her face animated.

  “I think you should go for it. Call her or text her.” She said.

  “I’m better off in my steady job. What if it went wrong?”

  “And what if it went right?” Mum’s focus narrowed in on me, no longer distracted by the country houses flashing across the TV screen. “Pippa, this post. To be a Personal Assistant at a publishing company. This could lead onto other things. Maybe one day you could be one of the people looking at the books deciding who’s going to be the next JK Rowling.”

  “Steady on, Mum. It’s making cups of tea and coffee for an entitled BratBoy by the sounds of it.”

  “It’s an ‘in’; an opportunity. You need to go talk to this woman, and really give it some serious thought. I know you like the place where you work, but there are no promotional opportunities there. Promise me, you’ll think about it?”

  “Okay.” I sighed. It was easier to say so, whether I messaged Ann or not. Mum smiled and turned back to the television. “And you never know, this Jude might be Mr Right and then you’ll really have landed on your feet.”

  “Absolutely not. He sounds a complete idiot; thinks all his assistants are after his body.”

  Mum’s gaze was back on mine. “Well, is he hot? Maybe they all are?”

  “No idea. Never seen a photo, and I will not be mixing business with pleasure if I take the post. I’d be the consummate professional so that I could use the opportunity as a stepping-stone to other roles in the future.”

  “Okay, love. Just promise me you will go see the woman, at least let her tell you all about the post.”

  “I will.”

  She nudged my arm with her own. “Text her now.”

  I let out a sharp exhale. “A minute ago, you told me to ‘think about it’, now you’re asking me to text her.”

  “Yes, because you should think about it after you meet her to discuss it.”

  “Okay, nagbag.” That got me another nudge.

  I picked up my phone.

  Pippa: Hey Ann. Sorry for the late message. I’d like to meet to talk to you about the post if possible.

  Within a minute my phone bleeped.

  Ann: What time do you have lunch? We can lunch at Chandra’s. My treat because I’m totally trying to bribe you into working for Jude!

  Chandra’s was an upmarket restaurant a few doors down from the salon. It was the place our customers would lunch, but that we staff couldn’t afford.

  Pippa: My lunch is one pm until two pm. Sometimes I can be a few minutes late out depending if I’m with a customer. Is that a problem?

  Ann: Not at all. I’ll have the table ready, just come in when you can.

  I sighed. I’m sure they’d be so impressed when I turned up in my non-designer clothes, lowering the tone of their establishment.

  Pippa: See you then!

  “Oh yes, you should definitely go for that one.” Mum said.

  I looked up to see she was talking about the house on screen.

  “All done?” She asked me.

  “Yup. I’ll see what she has to say.”

  “I have a good feeling about this, Pip.” She smiled.

  We watched the end of the programme and then we went up to bed. I made sure she was safely in bed, checked on the kids, and then made my way to my own room.

  I was dead on my feet. Could Ann really offer me an opportunity where I could improve my family life too? I didn’t see how a few more £’s on my wage slip was going to alter the fact my family needed me so much. Paradise might not have a large wage, but it gave me an escape. Zak was such a laugh, and the rest of the team were great. It was respite from the monotony of home.

  Turning off my light, I settled down to get some rest. Until a scream at 3.30am had me hurtling out of bed to see to a sobbing Liberty who’d dreamed she was being chased by Ted, holding his wet wee-wee pants in the air.

  4

  PIPPA

  “You got a date?” Zak looked at me closely, his eyes zipping up and down my body.

  “No.” I shook my head. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

  “You’re wearing your Chanel Gardenia.”

  Trust Zak to notice that I was wearing my special occasion perfume, the one a famous singer had sent me as a thank you gift when I’d found her packet of cocaine down the back of the reception seating. That man knew far too much about me.

  I beckoned him to one side with my head and told him about my lunch meeting.

  He began pouting. “What am I supposed to do if you leave? Although that would mean a new member of staff. Fresh pussy for me to pursue. Break a leg, honey. How long’s your notice period?”

  I swatted at his arm with the latest issue of Tatler.

  “I’m only joking. I’d miss you like crazy, Pip. And you would have to meet me on a weekly basis because I need my best-friend-forever to keep me grounded, or I’ll get too big-headed with no one around to tell me I’m not perfect.”

  “Give it a rest.”

  “But seriously, although I’d miss you heaps, you must give this your all. It would be a great opportunity for you. Davenport Publishing is huge. Nearly as large as my cock.”

  “But not as large as your ego. Got it. Now go and transform Kalina’s one millimetre of roots; she has an interview with Graham Norton tomorrow.”

  I was beyond nervous by the time I stepped through the entrance of Chandra’s. But surprisingly, I was greeted by a lovely lady who escorted me to a seat at the far left of the restaurant where Ann stood up and greeted me with air kisses and a hug.

  We ordered drinks. I stuck with a mineral water as I was working, and Ann ordered a tonic water.

  “Thank you for meeting with me, Pippa. I hope I didn’t shock you too much when I told you about my background.”

  I took a sip of my water. “I can’t lie. It wasn’t what I was expecting you to say, but I admire you for running your own business; and I can see there would be a market for it.”

  “There really is. Especially amongst men who have just been ditched for the gardener. They want to show their exes that they’ve moved on, when really they are still crying into their caviar.”

  “And you said that’s how you met your husband?”

  “Yes. At that time the business was run by someone else and I’d joined to earn some extra money to support me through college. I ended up on a date with Gerry to a charity auction and we got along very well. He asked me on a proper date afterward and I ended up with a husband. I kept in touch with my old friend Maria who ran the agency, and when she’d had enough and was ready to move on to new things, I took over. I have a team though who worked for Maria and now work for me who arrange everything. I don’t do much of the day-to-day. Just vet the applications on both sides with the help of ex-detectives and computer tech experts, and make sure none of the girls are selling themselves afterward.”

  “That must be hard to stop.”

  “Some do it. They’re just no longer on our books when they do.”

  We broke off to order our lunch. Ann ordered a chicken salad and so I went with the same.

  “Did your husband try to stop you from running the business? I thought rich men wanted stay at home wives who create charity events.”

  “Some
do. Some want trophy wives. But Gerry and I are new money, from working-class backgrounds. He recognized the business as a shrewd investment. One day, I’ll pass it all over to someone else, but for now I’m happy to have something interesting to occupy my time.”

  “I bet you have a whole host of stories. You should write a book that your publisher husband can publish for you.”

  “I have toyed with the idea.”

  “Do it. Send it to Jude.” I chortled.

  That had Ann dissolve into fits of laughter. “Can you imagine? Maybe I will write something.”

  Our lunches came and while we ate, Ann told me a little more about the company and Jude.

  “So, the bad experience with his ex. If I take on the post, will I have to deal with her? Does she still cause trouble?”

  Ann’s body posture slumped slightly. “No. Tillie died.”

  My hand went to my mouth. “I am so sorry. I had no idea. When you’d spoken about him…”

  “I never mentioned it. No, it’s something I’m afraid we try to avoid thinking about.”

  “Oh, Ann, forget I said anything.”

  “No. If you come to work for him, you need to know. Tillie became an addict. She’d always taken cocaine on the party circuit, but even though she could be difficult, when she got pregnant she got clean. Unfortunately, she struggled with motherhood and Jude basically looked after Addison from day one. He tried to make it work by living with Tillie for the first couple of years but when Addison was two, Jude came home to find Addison sat at the side of Tillie’s dead body. She’d taken heroin, but at a dose too strong for someone not used to it.

  “Oh, Ann. Oh my god.”

  “Jude was in a mess. He had his daughter and he had guilt over Tillie, because while he didn’t wish her dead, she had been such a cause of stress for such a long time that he felt some relief that she wasn’t around anymore. It put him off relationships, and assistants. Until Irene. When she died suddenly of a heart attack, Jude was hit for six again. She’d been such a help to him with Addison. If he was stuck, she’d tell him to bring her in. Addison saw Irene as an extra grandmother. I think Jude feels he’s protecting them both by not letting anyone else in, but he’s just causing himself more pain.”

  “I get his reluctance though. It’s all a lot clearer now.”

  “If you do take the post you mustn’t let him know you are aware of any of this though. If he decides to confide in you himself, that’s different, but he’s fiercely private and protective about Addison.”

  “Yeah, I understand. So, tell me more about the job itself.”

  Ann went on to describe the kinds of tasks I would have to undertake. It all seemed pretty straightforward and while I knew I’d need time to get used to my new post, I was used to computerised systems and had learned to type a long time ago.

  “So, ordinarily your salary would be this.” Ann wrote some numbers on a piece of paper. It was a decent salary but not enough to take me away from the safety of my current job.

  “However, working for Jude will be difficult. Very difficult, and even though he’s told me he’s ready for a new assistant, I have no doubt he will not be the easiest boss to deal with. But I know you could handle it. This is what I’m proposing as a bonus payment. It would go into your bank account at the end of every month.”

  She wrote an obscene number on the paper. Money that meant I could get help for my mum and the kids. It was a no-brainer. If it didn’t work out, that money covered around four months salary for me, and let’s face it, I was only a receptionist, I could get another job if I had to leave.

  “I don’t know what to say. This is just too much.”

  “Say yes. You’ll not think it’s too much when you take the job. You’ll feel like you’ve earned every penny, and I’m not exaggerating when I say that. I love him dearly, he’s my son; but he’s a pain in the arse to work for these days.”

  For a moment, I hesitated. It would mean that there was a large possibility that for a time, my work and home life would both be stressful. But the hope that maybe, just maybe, I could get into a working routine with Jude, and get the help needed to make our home life more bearable, had me reaching out my hand to shake Ann’s.

  I smiled at her and then it turned into a beam.

  “Then yes. I’ll take the job.”

  5

  PIPPA

  One month later

  Here it was. My first day in my new employment. I was beyond nervous. Had I made the right decision? Time would tell. My final wage from Paradise included holiday pay, and had meant I could employ a housekeeper to come in daily to do the housework and prepare an evening meal. My mum’s protests had been quashed as soon as I’d told her this was to benefit all of us, not just because she couldn’t get around as much as she used to. I also planned to have some changes made to the house with our second sitting room being turned into a bedroom and the study into a downstairs wet room, but I’d tell her about those plans once I was settled in my new job. Ann had become my fairy godmother, and that spark of hope for our future was carrying me through. I’d be fabulous at this job. I had to be.

  Dropping off Liberty at breakfast club, she headed straight off to the painting table. I followed her and gave her a quick hug, but she was too busy telling everyone they had to paint flowers to be bothered that I was leaving.

  I’d just reached the door when I heard, “Pippaaaa, wait!!!” and she came hurtling at me, her little body almost knocking me over as I bent down to receive a bigger and much improved hug.

  “I forgot about your new job. Have a lovely day, and don’t forget your please and thank you’s.”

  “I won’t. Thank you for my cuddle. Love you.”

  “Love you too.” She shouted as she ran back off.

  My morning was taken up with meeting human resources, getting passwords and security badges, and a short induction by the head of the secretarial team, Lena. Lena was a middle-aged woman with short, spiky white-blonde hair. She reminded me a bit of P!nk, only older. She helped put me at ease and finally I followed her into the lift to head up to my new office.

  We came out onto the fourth floor where a large sign in the foyer said Editorial Floor. Then other signage pointed to the different editors and other staff you could find. I followed Lena as she walked down a corridor until we met a door that said on it in gold lettering: JUDE DAVENPORT, COMMISSIONING EDITOR, AND PA.

  As she pushed open the door, I saw a large space with a huge white desk with a computer on it. Well, I think it was white, given the small amounts of desk I could see underneath piles of paper and what appeared to be five billion empty coffee cups. There was a black leather sofa facing my desk with a small white coffee table in front of it. The carpet was slate grey. The sofa and chair were far enough away to make visitor and PA comfortable, but near enough for communication.

  There were tea and coffee making facilities on a trolley that had several cups, saucers, spoons, napkins etc underneath.

  To the left-hand-side as I walked in was another door and a window with a closed venetian blind against it. Again, this said JUDE DAVENPORT, COMMISSIONING EDITOR on the door. The door was closed and no lights shone through.

  “Jude will be here shortly to meet you.” Lena said, “so for now, just make yourself at home, answer the phone, and well, maybe make a start on that desk.”

  “Yeah, are there any black refuse sacks around?” I pointed to the coffee cups.

  “I’ll get housekeeping to come up now you’re here. They won’t visit this room when it’s just Jude because he tells them to get out.”

  Lena stared at my face closely.

  “You don’t seem overly concerned about what I’m saying.”

  “I deal with my ten-year-old brother and six-year-old sister on a daily basis. I’m used to brattish behaviour.”

  Lena laughed. “Right, good luck. Stiff upper lip and of course, no one has to suffer abuse. We are zero tolerance here. Jude steps out of line, you come see me.�
��

  “Thanks, Lena.”

  With that she bid me goodbye and left me to it.

  Within ten minutes a lovely gentleman from housekeeping had been and we’d moved the littered coffee cups. I took all the piles of paper off the table and put them on the coffee table and the floor and he wiped the desk down for me, then left. Searching the desk drawers, I found pads, pencils etc which I placed on the freshly wiped desk. I was just making myself a drink when the door banged open and I turned to find a man standing in the room staring at me.

  He was tall and dressed in a sharp navy suit, white shirt, black tie. Was this Jude or a client? I’d not had chance to look at the diary yet. The first thing I noticed was the tattoo on his hand and I wondered if he had a sleeve of them like I did. Mine were covered up today with my grey blouse and black tights. The guy’s dark hair had a slight grown out on top style but it looked like some paste product had been run through it and his dark eyes were mesmerising.

  He dropped an empty coffee cup on the corner of my clean desk.

  “I assume you’re Pippa and not some random woman who’s come in to make herself a drink?” His tone was neutral.

  “I am.” I walked towards him and held out my hand. “It’s nice to meet you.” We shook hands but I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable at the feel of his warm strong grip in mine. I quickly took my hand away. “Would you like a drink? I’m just making one.”

  “No, thank you. I can’t stand that crap they supply here. Costa is just down the street. Do yourself a favour and buy them from there. I would like a refill though so if you could pop out and get me another at midday, along with a chicken and bacon panini. There’s a card in that top drawer for business expenses.”