by Fay Keenan
‘All the same, can we try something a little less, er, vibrant?’
Florence grinned. ‘Okay, but the pink and purple will really make you stand out against the crowd.’
‘Believe me, the last thing I want to do is to stand out tonight. Artemis is the guest of honour and from what his publishing rep Eloise has told Harry, he really doesn’t like being upstaged.’
‘But you are hosting the book signing,’ countered Florence. ‘And I’m sure that Artemis will expect you to make some kind of an effort sartorially.’ She wrinkled her brow. ‘From what I’ve read about him, he likes a bit of pomp and ceremony and to be made to feel as if he is worth the effort.’
Kate burst out laughing. ‘I’m not sure that Harry would put it that way, given the amount of emails he has had from Eloise Padgett about this bloody visit. And now the stupid bugger has got the flu, he doesn’t even have the energy to see the flipping thing through!’
‘Well, you’d better make sure that you do Harry proud then.’ Florence threw a slightly less garish dress at Kate, which thankfully had a more subtle colour palette. ‘Try this one then.’
Briskly, Kate stripped off her jeans and her paint-splattered T-shirt, thanking her lucky stars she was wearing a decent bra and knickers. Sliding the forest green and rose pink dress over her head and wriggling into it, the sensation of the luxurious material slithering over her torso made a tingle run down her spine that wasn’t just to do with nerves. As Florence drew closer and zipped up the back of the dress for her, Kate tried to remember the last time she’d got dressed up in something like this. She was pretty sure that it had been way before her divorce, and that the night had probably ended badly one way or the other. Vague memories of a friend’s wedding reception, too much Prosecco and Phil looking at her in exasperated disdain drifted through her mind.
‘Yup,’ Florence said approvingly. ‘That’ll do.’ She headed back to her wardrobe. ‘What shoe size are you?’
‘Eight,’ Kate said.
‘These are a seven, but they’re sandals so you’ll get away with them,’ Florence said, bringing out a box from the top shelf.
Kate, taking the box, wished she was the kind of person who kept her own shoes in the original boxes they came in, but three children pretty much put a stop to any notions of that level of care of her own possessions. Perhaps, when she got a place of her own, she’d make more of an effort.
As she opened the shoe box, she felt relieved that the sandals had a chunky heel, so with a bit of luck she wouldn’t go arse over tit on Harry’s wooden floors. ‘These look great. If you’re sure you don’t mind?’
‘I’m hardly likely to be wearing them for the next few months,’ Florence said. ‘I used to teach for eight hours a day in stiletto heels. I don’t think I’ll be needing anything more adventurous than a pair of Converse until the baby’s born!’
‘And probably for quite a while afterwards, I’m afraid to say,’ Kate said wryly. She glanced at the shoes again. ‘About fifteen years, in my case.’
‘Go on then,’ Florence said. ‘Better make sure they do fit.’
Kate sat on the edge of the bed and slipped on the sandals, struggling a little with the first buckle. Although they were a little small, they looked pretty good, all things considered.
‘Fab!’ Florence exclaimed as Kate stood back up to look at herself again in the mirror. ‘You’ll knock them dead.’
Kate grinned. ‘I just want to make sure Harry doesn’t take one look at me and insist on getting back out of bed to do this evening himself!’
‘You and Harry have been spending a bit of time together lately, haven’t you?’ Florence raised a speculative eyebrow. ‘Holiday romance?’
Kate snorted, and plonked herself down on the bed. Ducking down to hide her face while she unbuckled the sandals, she shook her head. ‘No! Absolutely not! I’m so not ready for anything like that at the moment.’
Immediately, Florence looked contrite. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I didn’t mean to touch a nerve.’
Kate, who’d shed the dress, and slipped back into her jeans. ‘Don’t worry,’ she said as she put her T-shirt over her head. ‘You haven’t. It’s just that, even though the decree absolute came through six months ago, I still can’t quite get used to being single again. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want Phil back; we’re better as we are, now. I just seem to have completely forgotten what it’s like to interact with blokes that I’m not related to. Even on a friendship level.’
‘It’s no wonder you feel a bit rusty,’ Florence said. ‘I mean, this is new territory, isn’t it?’
‘But if I was looking…’ Kate grinned, ‘I could do a lot worse than Harry. He is cute in that clever, bookish, Ben Willbond kind of way.’ Kate had loved watching Horrible Histories as much as her sons had, and had harboured a bit of a crush on the actor.
‘But you’re not?’ Florence grinned back.
‘Nope,’ Kate replied firmly. ‘Holiday flings aren’t my style, and in case you’ve forgotten, I live on the other side of the country. It’s a no go.’
‘Well, you’d best just enjoy tonight then,’ Florence said. ‘And I’ll be there to keep an eye on you, anyway.’
‘You bought a ticket?’
‘Yup. Sam’s on shift from seven o’clock so I thought I might as well head on down and see if Artemis Bane’s all he’s cracked up to be. I am an English teacher, after all.’
‘He’s hardly likely to end up on the National Curriculum, writing his kind of mass market fantasy,’ Kate observed.
‘But he should be entertaining, one way or the other.’
‘Or a complete pain in the arse,’ Kate replied. She hadn’t filled Florence in on what Harry had told her about Artemis Bane’s requests and demands, and didn’t really have time to now, if she was going to get a bite to eat before implementing them. Gathering up the dress and shoes and thanking goodness that she had actually had the foresight to pack her make-up bag when she’d moved in next door, she said goodbye to Florence, thanking her again for her help.
‘See you later,’ Florence replied. ‘Shall we walk down to the bookshop together?’
‘I’ve got to be there about an hour before kick-off,’ Kate said. ‘Is that okay?’
‘No worries,’ Florence smiled, ‘I’m sure I can amuse myself in a bookshop for an hour or so.’
Heading back next door, Kate checked her phone to see if Harry had texted her with any last-minute panics or instructions, but there was nothing from him. She did notice a text from her middle son, Will, though. Smiling as she thought of him, chunky, stoical and endlessly cheerful even in the face of such upheaval, she texted him back, and resolved to call him after tonight was over. Her younger boys knew the broad strokes about what had happened with Corey, but she hadn’t gone into specifics. She still wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or offended that neither Will nor Tom had expressed any desire to come over to Willowbury and spend time with her, but then from what Corey had said, they were more than happy with Xboxes and football. She hoped that was true and that they really were having a good time with Phil. Despite it all, she didn’t want her former issues with their father to sabotage their relationship with him. What was done was done, after all. And, regardless of how attached they were to their games consoles, she was going to get them across to Somerset for some of the summer holiday; she missed them terribly.
After she’d stowed the dress and shoes out of the way upstairs, so they weren’t damaged by the paint, she decided to grab a quick bite to eat and then have a shower. She wanted to spend a little time on her appearance before going back to the bookshop. She’d slobbed around in jeans and overalls for so long, it actually felt like a real treat to be getting out and about for the evening. She just wished poor Harry was well enough to be there – not least because she felt nervous about having to coordinate the evening by herself. She also hoped that Artemis ended up being a lot less demanding than his reputation suggested.
30
‘You look great!’ Florence said when she opened the door to Kate a couple of hours later. ‘I was right about that dress.’
‘Thanks,’ Kate replied. ‘You look pretty good yourself.’
‘Yeah, you both scrub up quite well,’ Corey said from his place beside Kate on the doorstep. He’d nipped round to Florence and Sam’s earlier as well, to borrow a clean shirt and a better pair of jeans. At sixteen, he was already taller than his Uncle Aidan and so couldn’t quite fit into all of the clothes in his wardrobe. Thankfully, Sam had plenty of smart things to choose from, and Kate had yet again marvelled at the resemblance between her son and her brother; they shared much of the same rangy, blonde elegance.
Florence grinned and gestured to the Isabella Olivier maternity dress in violet that she was wearing. ‘My friend Josie from work lent me all of her maternity clothes – she’s got better taste than me and spent far more than I was prepared to when she was pregnant with her son. If it was up to me I’d be mooching around in maternity jeans and T-shirts all day, but thankfully she gave me a few really decent things.’
Kate had fond memories of her own maternity jeans; in fact, she’d worn them long after she’d given birth to each one of her children. She decided not to share that particular piece of information with Florence right now, though, who’d already expressed her determination to be back in her pre-pregnancy jeans in as little time as possible.
‘Well, we’ve got plenty of time to wander down to the shop.’ Kate looked at her watch. ‘I wanted to make sure I had a moment to pop in and check on Harry before the guests get through the door.’
As Kate, Corey and Florence ambled along towards the High Street, Kate realised that she was seeing Willowbury at its most beautiful. The summer sunshine was still beaming over the town, and the half-barrel flower tubs that adorned the High Street at regular intervals were absolutely bursting over with blooms in a riot of colours. These contrasted wonderfully with the honey-coloured stone of buildings like the Travellers’ Rest, where late afternoon drinkers, mainly tourists from the looks of them, were enjoying a lazy pint at the wooden tables out front. Kate remembered her first proper chat with Harry a few weeks ago, where she’d agreed to take on the decorating job in the shop, and how awkward she’d felt at the start of that conversation. Who would have thought, such a short time later, that she’d be putting the guy to bed and taking charge of the biggest book signing and launch the shop had ever seen?
‘Penny for them.’ Florence smiled.
Kate snapped back to reality, and Willowbury’s picturesque High Street that sprawled upwards in a gentle incline towards the hill overlooking the town. ‘I was just thinking about how much has changed over the past year. I never thought I’d be doing something like this, for a start! I feel a fair bit out of my comfort zone.’
Florence threw her a sympathetic look. ‘I can’t imagine how it must feel, but I can empathise a bit – moving to Willowbury was a bit of a culture shock for me, I can tell you.’ Florence had inherited the house next door to Aidan and Sam’s a couple of years back, so had upped sticks from Yorkshire to renovate it and make it her own. Falling in love with Sam hadn’t been part of the plan, but after a fair few ups and downs, they’d both settled into life in Willowbury and now were pleased to call it home.
‘Well, it’s not as if I’m going to be here for very long,’ Kate conceded. ‘Although I can see why you and Sam, and Aidan and Tom, love it. Especially on a day like this.’ As they headed towards Harry’s bookshop, it became clear that there was going to be a full house for Artemis Bane’s signing. The queue now snaked down the road, past the bakery next door and the florist, and looked to be getting longer by the minute. ‘I bet a book launch in Waterstones Piccadilly would have dragged in even more punters, though. I wonder why Artemis decided to hold it here?’
‘Often the quirkier places make better publicity I suppose,’ Florence replied. ‘I once went to a book launch in the vat rooms of the local cider farm – locations like that can really add to the atmosphere.’
‘True,’ Kate replied, feeling a sudden flutter of nerves in her stomach. ‘I just wish Harry was still masterminding it, and all I had to worry about was swigging Prosecco and enjoying myself!’
‘You’ll be fine,’ Florence soothed as they got closer to the front entrance of the bookshop. ‘You’ve raised three sons – surely that’s more scary than shepherding some fans of Artemis Bane through an evening.’ She touched her burgeoning baby bump reflectively. ‘Although, I’ve been teaching teenagers for years, but the prospect of parenthood fills me with terror!’
‘Then let’s just say we’ll both be fine,’ Kate replied. She took a deep breath and walked purposefully past the queue of eager Artemis Bane fans, many of whom were wearing T-shirts emblazoned with catchphrases from his bestselling series of urban fantasy novels, and chattering excitedly, awaiting the guest of honour. Grabbing the key to the front door, which she’d borrowed from Harry before she left to get changed, she swiftly let Corey, Florence and herself in, and then locked it again firmly behind them.
‘How long until showtime?’ Florence asked.
Kate glanced at her watch. ‘Just over an hour and a half. Artemis is meant to be here ten minutes before the start. According to the efficient Eloise, he doesn’t like to rock up any earlier than that as apparently he suffers from pretty bad stage fright.’
‘Well, I’ll just amuse myself and have a browse, then,’ Florence said. ‘Unless you need me to do anything?’
‘I’m just going to pop up and see how Harry is, so feel free to have a wander and relax. But can you keep an eye out for the caterer – they’re meant to be delivering the nibbles any time now.’
‘Will do,’ Florence said. Calling across to Corey, who was browsing the Transportation section of the bookshop, she smiled. Corey had been as in love with trains as his Uncle Sam had with planes and helicopters, for as long as she could remember, and was always on the lookout for new facts and figures. ‘Any chance of making me a cuppa?’
Corey grinned. ‘Coming right up, Aunt Florence.’
Kate was amazed, even with an hour and a half to go that she could hear a chant beginning outside among the assembled audience. The dulcet tones of ‘We want Artemis… we want Artemis!’ made her pulse race. This guy, evidently, had a vociferous fanbase. Trying to put them out of her mind, she hurried to the back of the shop and up the stairs to Harry’s flat. She’d asked Harry if it was okay to leave the door on the latch, so she could check in on him when she returned, and Kate pushed it open softly, mindful of the fact that Harry might be sleeping.
Tiptoeing through the hallway of the flat, which extended through the entire reach of the shop, giving it a lovely sense of space, she tried to remember which door led to Harry’s bedroom. ‘Hello?’ She called softly as she went. ‘Harry, it’s only me.’
As she reached the door to his room, which was ajar, she noticed for the first time how cool it was in the flat. These old stone buildings are certainly worth the money, she thought. And given how high Harry’s temperature had been when she’d left that afternoon, a little bit of cool air on his brow would be just what he needed.
Pushing open the door, she could see Harry was turned away, and appeared to be sleeping. He’d managed to close the curtains against the bright light of the summer sunshine, so the room was gently lit by dissipated light seeping through. Kate crept towards the bed, not wanting to disturb him if he was in a deep sleep. He didn’t stir, but she was reassured to see his breathing was regular and not laboured – obviously the cold and flu remedy had worked and helped him to get some rest. As she drew closer, she saw his tousled hair on the back of his neck, and the length of thigh outlined under the bedsheet. He’d kicked off the duvet, and, much like she would have done with her sons when they were ill, she pulled it up from the bottom of the bed and gently tucked it around him in case the fever made him chilly once it subsided. As she leaned in to tuck it over his shoulders, his warm,
sleepy scent, the traces of deodorant and cologne, made her heart beat a little faster, and her own breathing quicken.
He still seemed sound asleep, and Kate knew she should head back downstairs, to make the final preparations for Artemis’s visit. He’d be arriving soon, and she knew from everything Harry had said, that the shop had to be perfect. Should she wake Harry first, just to make sure he was okay? Leaning over him to grab the empty water glass that was on his bedside table, she jumped as, at that very moment, Harry rolled over and she found herself nose to nose with him.
‘Hi,’ he said, a little huskily. If he was surprised to see her there, he didn’t show it.
‘Hey,’ she replied softly. ‘Sorry… I just wanted to make sure you had something to drink if you woke up.’
Harry smiled, and Kate’s heart flipped again. ‘Thanks.’
For another long moment they remained, Kate alternately wondering how to get the glass without smashing it, and also feeling the warmth of Harry’s T-shirt clad torso beneath, and altogether too close to her for comfort. Almost with a mind of its own, her left hand retreated from its journey to get the glass, and instead found itself resting on Harry’s forehead as she hovered above him.
‘You seem a bit cooler,’ she said.
‘I feel a bit better,’ Harry said softly. ‘Perhaps I could…’
‘Nope,’ Kate cut him off before he could suggest staggering downstairs and taking back control of the evening’s festivities. ‘Believe it or not, Corey, my sister-in-law, Florence, and I have got it all under control. You just get your head down and see how you are in the morning.’
Harry shook his head. ‘You’re right, I suppose. I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I don’t think I’d be much good to anyone like this.’
‘Is there anything I can get you before I get back downstairs?’ she asked, trying to focus on the fact that he was ill, and therefore not someone to lust over. At least not right now.