‘They’re good aren’t they? Probably some of his best.’ Polly said, bringing a bottle of wine and two glasses into the living room as Cat leafed through one of Joe’s notepads, her wrapping abandoned.
Cat nodded. ‘That course was obviously a good investment. I bet Jessica’s ecstatic.’
‘Do I detect a hint of sarcasm, Cat Palmer?’ Polly poured wine into her glass and handed it to her.
‘Of course not,’ Cat rushed. ‘Jessica will be genuinely delighted with what Joe’s done.’
Polly pulled her legs up under her. ‘I think Joe could do an ugly charcoal scrawl and Jessica would be over the moon. She’s blinded by the man, not the work, although of course his designs are incredible.’
‘You really think she’s got a thing for him?’ Cat held her breath.
‘Don’t you remember her at our first Christmas committee meeting? She was almost purring. I would love to see the emails between them while he was in the States.’
Cat winced. She couldn’t imagine anything worse. ‘And what does Joe think? Has he talked to you about it?’ Her voice came out as a squeak, and Polly gave her a sharp look.
‘Oh, you mean after what happened at the protest? The way he feels about you?’
‘What he said to me then, about his cartoon, it just seemed that…’ Cat shrugged. ‘He’s had some time away now, though. It’s great. If he’s moved on, I mean. The best thing.’
Silence filled the space between them, and though Cat kept her gaze focused on Joe’s sketchbook, she could feel the weight of the Sinclair stare on her. ‘I don’t want to speculate,’ Polly said eventually, ‘and I can promise you that he’s not said anything to me. But I don’t think that Jessica’s enthusiasm is entirely reciprocated. Though Joey could just be trying to keep things professional between them, for the sake of his business.’
‘You really don’t know how he feels, then?’
‘Feelings don’t just disappear like that,’ Polly said, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. ‘Even when you try and cancel them out by putting an ocean in the way. It’s good that you’re worried about him, Cat, but this isn’t your fault. You can’t help it that Joe fell for you. He may be moving on, he may still be working through it, but he’ll get there. Part of me wishes he would talk to me, but then…’ she took a sip of her wine. ‘That might be a bit awkward.’
‘Piggy in the middle?’ Cat asked.
Polly nodded. ‘My brother likes my best friend. My best friend isn’t interested, and we all live in the same house. Not awkward at all! But it might be worse if you did like him. Then I’d really be stuck in the middle of something.’
She laughed, and Cat tried to join in, but it fell flat. Polly’s laughter died out, and her smile disappeared, her brows furrowing.
‘Cat?’
‘Yes, Polly?’ Cat sighed, her shoulders dropping.
‘You don’t like him do you? Not like that.’
Cat held her gaze and took a long sip of wine. ‘I’ve wanted to tell you about it for ages, but I knew it would make things more complicated. With me living here, with the way things have…have happened. It’s not straightforward.’
Polly gripped her glass as if it might jump out of her hands and fly out of the window. ‘S-since when?’
‘Since that day, really. In the surf van. I mean, it must have started before, but I was with Mark and I – I wouldn’t let myself believe it. Then Joe said what he said, and I realised that the reason I was annoyed about the cartoon was because I didn’t want him to see me as a calamitous stuff-up, I wanted him to like me. I mean properly like me. He told me he did, and then he went to America. I already knew that it wasn’t working with Mark, we limped on for a bit, but I knew I couldn’t keep stringing him along.’ She laughed. ‘Ironic, really, considering what he’d been doing.’
‘So you really care about Joe?’
‘I do,’ Cat said, glancing at the doorway, aware that Joe and Owen were somewhere in the house, messing about with lights. ‘I do, but if he’s getting over me, if he’s got feelings for Jessica. I can’t…I don’t know what to do.’
In the spring she had been worried that Mark might have feelings for Jessica, and now she was looming, albeit elegantly, between her and Joe. Cat’s first fears had proved unfounded – it was simply Jessica’s glamour and confidence playing on her pre-existing insecurities – but this time she wasn’t so sure.
‘I never thought that you –’ Polly said. ‘Bloody hell. Are you going to tell him?’
Cat looked at the table. ‘I have to do something. But I don’t know what.’
‘Is talking to him too radical a plan?’ She gave Cat a gentle smile.
‘I just…not yet,’ Cat said. ‘Right now, that feels too difficult.’
‘So sing to him,’ Polly said.
‘Don’t be flippant, Pol.’
‘I’m not! I’ve heard you practising your guitar, and so has Joey. He even complimented you the other day.’
‘He did?’ Cat frowned. She’d not had nearly as many lessons with Frankie as she’d intended, and the news that Joe had heard her practise, never mind comment on it, was a shock. ‘Sure he’s not being sarcastic?’
‘I think his exact words were “she can serenade me any time”,’ Polly said, laughing.
‘I can only play half a tune!’ But Cat felt the flush of the compliment, however unlikely it seemed. She’d been practising a Christmas song, wondering if she’d be brave enough to try it. ‘And I’m not sure it’s the right way to declare my feelings for Joe.’
‘Why not?’ Polly asked. ‘Why not take your inspiration from the festive season, and show Joe how you feel with a grand gesture?’
‘You’re serious? You, Polly Sinclair, think I should serenade your brother? What if he and Jessica have started something? What if he doesn’t feel that way about me any more?’
‘Cat.’ Polly sighed and sat forward on the sofa. ‘You always have these big ideas for other people, schemes to help them and rescue them and make things better for them. You always throw caution to the wind and go for it, and more often than not, it works. Why not, for once, take some of your own advice?’ She raised her eyebrows, and Cat looked at her friend, her heart thudding, wondering if she had the courage to do what Polly was suggesting.
They drank their wine in silence until the sound of cheering from the floor above drew them upstairs.
‘What’s going on?’ Polly asked, pushing open the door into Joe’s office, Cat following closely behind.
‘Come and look at this,’ Owen said, racing towards Polly and dragging her towards the computer screen. Joe grinned and beckoned Cat over, and her insides did a little dance. ‘We,’ Owen continued, ‘have found the light display to end all displays. No way anyone else has a chance of winning. What do you think?’
Cat and Polly followed Owen round to the other side of Joe’s desk, and Joe maximized the window on his Mac.
They both gasped.
Chapter 6
It was two days before Christmas, and all through the house, not a creature was stirring, because Shed was wiped out on the sofa, oblivious to the operation that was going on around him, and Rummy was asleep under the window. Cat looked at him, thinking about Chalky. Polly had told her that his pancreas had settled down, but because he was old, his recovery would be slower than most, and not without danger. Cat had seen him at the vet’s two days ago. He still looked weak, and Cat’s faint glimmer of hope that he might be able to finally come home and spend Christmas with Elsie and Disco seemed hopelessly optimistic.
Cat turned away from Rummy and shook her head at the state of the living room. Lights were strewn everywhere, Joe and Owen intent on turning their competition entry into a military operation. Cat had wondered whether it was even possible for them to win, as they had been part of the committee that had planned the event, but Phil from the Fairhaven Press was promising to be an impartial judge, so they had to give it their best shot. Cat could hardly remember a time wh
en there hadn’t been a string of lights draped across every carpet just waiting for her to trip over.
‘We’re having these ones along the roof and the windowsills,’ Joe said for the hundredth time, holding up the white icicle lights.
‘And these on the walls.’ Owen gathered together their Arctic creatures – a polar bear and reindeer, and a penguin that Cat wasn’t about to tell them was actually only found in the Antarctic – and the fastenings which would secure them onto the wall. The whole front of the house would be covered in a mesh of snowflake lights that pulsed different colours. If it worked, it would be spectacular. But it seemed like there was still quite a lot to do to get it ready for that evening.
‘How are we going to attach it all?’ Polly asked. ‘How will we fix the lights along the bottom of the roof? We don’t have a ladder.’
‘I’ll do it out of my bedroom window,’ Joe said.
Polly looked sceptical. ‘You won’t be able to reach all the way along.’
‘Sure I will,’ Joe said. ‘You can hold my feet while I dangle out.’ He took the icicle lights and, grinning, headed up the stairs.
‘No, Joey.’ Polly followed him. ‘Be serious.’
‘I’m deadly serious.’
‘Come on,’ Owen said as Cat stared wistfully up after Joe’s retreating form. ‘You can help me with the animals. Ground level, much safer.’
‘Good-oh.’ Cat followed him out, trying to banish her fear at Joe risking danger by dangling out of the top floor window.
She was glad that there was no awkwardness between them, but they still avoided certain subjects, such as what had happened with Mark, whether Joe’s trip had given him the space he needed to resolve his feelings for her, and his current project with Jessica. Cat had been mulling Polly’s idea over in her mind, while also trying to focus on Christmas. But Christmas made her happy, and when she was happy she thought of Joe.
It was bitterly cold outside. The sky was heavy and pink and, Cat was sure, full of snow. Would they have a winter wonderland for their competition, real snowflakes falling past the fake ones on their wall? Or would it hold on and give them a newly minted white Christmas? The pavement was slippery with ice, and Cat’s fingers were soon red and numb, but together she and Owen attached the penguin and polar bear to the front of the house, checked the wiring, made sure everything was secure and ran to their large outdoor extension plug.
‘Guys,’ Joe called down, and Cat looked up to see him leaning out of his window, waving at them. The row of icicles ran along the bottom of the roof, dangling prettily down.
‘How did you do that?’ Cat asked.
Joe spread his arms wide. ‘I’m a genius. We just need to sort out the snowflakes and then we’re ready to turn them on, see the full effect – in daylight, at least.’
Owen applauded and Cat joined in, watching as Joe bowed out of the window, bending far too low. She bit her lip and resisted the urge to call out to him to be careful.
‘Right,’ Owen said, ‘snowflakes. They’re in the living room.’
Still looking at Joe, Cat went to climb the front steps and missed her footing. She slipped, and her ankle twisted under her. She cried out and grabbed hold of the wall.
‘Are you all right?’ Owen asked, rushing over to her.
‘I’m OK,’ Cat winced. ‘I jarred my ankle, that’s all.’
‘Come and sit down.’ Owen put his hand under her elbow and led her slowly inside. Cat flopped onto the sofa and clamped her lips together against the pain. Rummy, woken by the commotion, trotted over and sat next to her.
‘Thanks, Rummy,’ Cat murmured. Owen disappeared upstairs and Cat unzipped her long leather boot and slowly pulled it off, closing her eyes at the pain that shot through her ankle. She rolled up the leg of her jeans, and then came the sock, the woollen fabric grating against her tender skin.
‘Cat,’ Polly said, ‘what have you done?’
‘I stumbled.’ Cat looked up and then away again, her cheeks burning as Polly and Joe followed Owen into the living room. Polly was carrying her first-aid bag – as vigilant about human health as animals’, if not quite so expert. ‘I’m fine,’ Cat added, looking down at her ankle, which was definitely thicker and pinker than it had been first thing that morning.
‘And you think leaning out of an attic window is dangerous,’ Joe said softly. He went into the kitchen and returned with a bag of frozen peas wrapped in a tea towel. ‘Ready?’ He gave Cat an appraising look and she nodded.
Joe crouched next to her, and, putting his hand under her leg to support it, placed the peas against her ankle, watching her face closely. As her ankle got colder, the heat of the sprain dissipating, she felt herself get hotter. His fingers against her bare skin were a welcome distraction, his stare almost intoxicating.
‘Better?’ he asked.
‘Much.’
She saw him swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing. ‘Hope you weren’t planning on wearing heels tonight.’
Cat had spent a long time planning the perfect outfit, but at that very moment Jessica’s party seemed like the least important thing in the world. She shook her head.
‘I’ve got flats I can wear. I’m not sure where my patent heels are anyway.’
‘Well,’ Polly said, leaning forward and breaking their eye contact, ‘we need to get this strapped up or you won’t be moving much further than this sofa.’
Cat sat back as Polly wrapped her ankle up, and thanked Owen as he got her a glass of water and some painkillers. Joe, still holding the peas, didn’t move from Cat’s side. Rummy put his head on Joe’s lap and he stroked the dog absent-mindedly. Every time Cat looked at Joe, he was looking at her, so she shot him a quick smile and turned away.
‘Right,’ Polly said, glancing between them, fighting against a smile, ‘you’re done. Stay here, elevate it and keep putting the peas on it. We need to get this house finished, and then we need to get to Jessica’s for the dog fancy-dress competition. Owen, have you got Rummy’s outfit sorted?’
Owen saluted. ‘Yes, ma’am.’
Polly giggled. ‘Sorry. I’m just trying to take control of the situation. We’ve got a lot to do and not much time.’
‘Not to mention one clumsy idiot,’ Cat said.
‘Exactly.’ Polly grinned at her friend. ‘Now, Joey, you can either sit there and ogle my best friend all day, or you can come and help us win this competition. What’s it to be?’
Joe gawped at his sister, flashed Cat a quick, embarrassed look, then got to his feet and hurried out of the living room. Polly watched him go and, when he was out of sight, leaned in towards Cat. ‘I hope you’ve tuned your guitar,’ she whispered.
Cat’s ankle was sore, throbbing mercilessly despite the painkillers, but being supported up the street by Joe, she felt it was almost worth it. She leaned into him, glancing down at Rummy, resplendent in a Superman costume complete with red cape, trotting alongside Owen. As they walked, Emma and Lizzie raced up to join them.
‘Cat! Joe! Polly! Gooey-eyes!’
Cat looked behind her and waved at Frankie, who was pushing Henry in a pushchair, Olaf sitting in the basket underneath. Cat couldn’t see what he was dressed as.
‘Why are you walking in a stocking?’ Emma asked, pointing at Cat’s leg.
Joe and Owen had thought that, in the Christmas spirit, Cat should protect her shoeless foot against the cold by wearing an oversized Christmas stocking. They had tied it to her leg with gold Christmas ribbon.
‘Cat was clumsy and fell over,’ Joe said, smiling at Emma, amusement in his voice. ‘She’s got a bandage on her leg, and we thought we’d make it as Christmassy as possible.’
‘Well,’ Emma said, ‘it looks silly.’
‘And Santa won’t be able to fill it with presents if your foot’s in it,’ Lizzie added.
‘I’m hoping I get to take it off before Christmas Eve.’
‘I wouldn’t be so sure,’ Joe said seriously.
‘And why aren’t you wearing
two?’ Lizzie asked. ‘Your trainer looks funny on its own.’
‘And you’re walking in a silly way,’ Emma said.
‘Hey,’ Cat laughed. ‘You’re meant to be commenting on what the dogs are wearing, not me.’
‘You’d win the pretty competition,’ Lizzie said.
Cat smiled. ‘I wouldn’t stand a chance with both of you in your dresses.’ They were wearing long party dresses under their coats, thin strands of pearlescent tinsel woven through their long hair. ‘What’s Olaf dressed as?’
With Cat’s limp, Frankie had soon caught up with them and, eager to say hello to Rummy, Olaf hopped out of the basket. Spying the cocker spaniel’s outfit, Cat descended into laughter. She wasn’t alone.
‘Of course,’ Joe said, shaking his head. ‘What else could Olaf come as but Olaf?’ The little dog had a perfect snowman outfit on, and looked unnervingly similar to the Disney character he was named after.
Frankie narrowed her eyes. ‘You’ve seen Frozen?’
Joe’s laughter stopped abruptly. ‘I was forced to.’
‘Oh yeah,’ Polly said. ‘We held you down.’
‘Tied you to the sofa,’ Cat added.
‘Loving Frozen’s nothing to be ashamed of,’ Owen said. ‘Doesn’t everyone love it?’
‘I’m not saying I loved it, I’m saying I had to watch it.’
Polly and Cat looked at each other. ‘He loved it,’ they chorused.
‘All these lights look pretty spectacular.’ Frankie stared up at the houses as they passed them. ‘I can’t wait until it gets dark and we can see the whole street lit up.’
‘Looks like it might be lit up with snow too,’ Owen added.
‘Snow!’ the girls squealed, running up the street, arms raised in the air.
Tinsel and Terriers, A Novella Page 8