She’d parted the pages at the section heading ‘Wishes with Children’, running her weary eyes down the list of activities its wisdom covered. It served to remind her that life was short and children grew into adults so fast that each milestone should be treasured. That time spent baking, gluing, painting, constructing dens from clothes driers were cherished moments that remained wrapped in memory for the rest of one’s life. These were the prized experiences her father had reminisced about with her during his remaining days, not the endless hours she’d slaved at university or at work.
Building these dreams for Max was all she had left to achieve now, as her dad had persisted in reminding her, even on the final day she had spent in his company. Her silent promise to her father was made as tears coursed down her face. She would spend the rest of her life, be it long or be it short, living up to his and her mother’s example.
“Strive to make time in your day to enjoy the small things together with your child. Share a book, play a board game, craft a paper aeroplane, attempt a new sport, visit a museum, but above all, step off the daily treadmill and just take pleasure in each other’s company,” the pages declared. “These are the unforgettable memories we lay down for the future.” The book once again had solidified its words of wisdom in her befuddled mind. She’d understood them already, but they served as a timely reminder.
She vowed to live by these rules from now on, in memory of George Arthur Phillips, born September second, 1937. Beloved husband of Marianne Louise, adored father of Rebecca Jane, and treasured granddad to Max Bradley. R.I.P.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
“Where’s Nathan anyway?” Rebecca asked Deb, noticing his unusually tidy cubicle was devoid of his spiky hair and flicking pen.
The whole September morning was spent embroidering the trials and tribulations of the eventful previous weeks. High Court proceedings had claimed Lucinda’s presence—her first day back after her week’s leave attending her sister’s wedding in Palma. So, whilst the cat was away, the mice gossiped.
First Rebecca recounted the tragedy of the last two weeks, her strength and fortitude building as each dreadful detail was expelled from the heavy weight in her chest into Deb’s listening ear.
Then it was Deb’s turn to relive the nightmare of the telephone call with the bombshell news that the kitchen at Radley Hall had been razed to the ground by a fierce electrical fire. Fortunately, no one had been injured, but there was no possibility they could honour their commitment to hold her wedding reception at Radley Hall on the thirty first of October. However, any date next March would be fine, if she cared to reschedule.
Rebecca was upset she hadn’t been around to help Deb through this, confirming to her once again her failure to be available for anyone who needed her. Deb had expressed her regret for not making the journey to Northumberland to provide support for Rebecca, but they both agreed the timing of tragedies couldn’t be predicted or manipulated to fall neatly whenever a window of availability opened.
Deb shared the current tentative plan, still in its infancy, to hold the reception in the St Aiden’s church hall, but not the intricate details as she had loads more gossip to update Rebecca with.
“You’re not going to believe this, Becky. We didn’t want to bother you with any of this, you know—my wedding disaster, Nathan’s contact problems, Lucinda’s wedding invitation, Georgina’s news—because of the terrible time you were going through, you had enough on your plate. But I’ve just got to spill!
“Nathan’s in Edinburgh! With Millie!” Her smile was filled with satisfaction as if she’d been waiting for Rebecca’s surprise. “Back tomorrow. Emma even agreed to allow her to miss a day of school. They’ve been up there since Saturday. Gosh, where do I start?” Deb bounced in her chair with excitement, revealing the fact that she had dropped at least eight pounds since Rebecca had been away.
“Well start, come on.” Rebecca welcomed the diversionary gossip as she struggled to concentrate on tackling the backlog of work piled high on her cluttered grey desk.
“Nathan’s a secret member of F4J!” Deb blurted. “You know, Fathers for Justice? He was arrested when you were in Northumberland for scaling the Tower Bridge in his wizard’s costume, flying the flag for father’s rights!” She giggled, flicking her long, rippling waves behind her cute ears, her breasts quivering as she swung to and fro on her swivel chair, animated by the riveting story of Nathan’s bravery, or stupidity!
“Are you’re joking? I saw that piece on the news when I was at Claudia’s. That was Nathan? Wow, I said to Claudia I sympathised with the poor guy for taking the fight into his own hands. But Nathan? Arrested?”
“Yep. Cautioned and released. Kept it quiet at work though—he’s terrified of the reaction of Lucinda and John Baringer. Afraid he’ll be fired on the spot, which, I have to say, is a possibility. However, he’s been in such demand from the media since the stunt that a long and lucrative career in television beckons. You’ll never believe this, but he’s been invited onto This Morning next week to talk about lobbying Parliament on fathers’ and grandparents’ contact rights, a subject he’s ideally placed to publicise.”
“But that stunt could have scuppered his chances at the court hearing, Deb! Emma handed the perfect excuse to continue her refusal of contact with Millie, ‘a father so irresponsible as to scale an iconic monument cannot be trusted with the care of a vulnerable child’ argument! Poor Nathan, he must have been desperate to pull such a stunt.”
But Deb didn’t look at all sympathetic or concerned about Nathan’s predicament, so Rebecca knew there was more to the story. She scooted her chair closer to Deb’s as she continued with the intriguing tale.
“You would have thought so, wouldn’t you? But no, Becky. Oh ye of little faith, as Nathan himself would say. Emma saw the item on the news, too, says she recognised Nathan. She contacted him the next day after he’d been released from police custody. Nathan was totally expecting a hurl of abuse, but get this, she told him how brave she thought he was, how impressed she’d been with his courage to scale the heights of Tower Bridge. She offered to meet him for coffee for him to spill all the details the next day after work and to discuss progressing contact because Millie now thought her dad was a real life wizard!”
“No!” Rebecca giggled.
“Well, look at his hair, there is a similarity to the most famous wizard of our time! Anyway, it went so well he plucked up the courage to enquire about a trip to Edinburgh. To say he’s overjoyed is an understatement. He’s so grateful to you for sharing the advice of the little green book. Remember? We teased him about his procrastination habit? And persuaded him take the first step to issue those court proceedings, instilling in him the confidence to make changes in his life and seek out his heart’s desire. Look how the book’s pearls of wisdom have changed you over the last six months!
“But most of all, he’s ecstatic his mother will get to see Millie before it’s too late. He’s hopeful Emma and he can agree to contact every other weekend, and so far, Emma is amenable. She’s enjoying being a part of his minor celebrity status, I think. He says he’s hung up his wizard’s robes for good!”
“Good grief, I’m stunned. I’m so relieved Emma saw sense and did the right thing. It’s time I did the same.”
“What do you mean?” Deb asked sharply.
She was prevented from answering the searching question in Deb’s eyes as Lucinda strode into their office. Deb scattered back to her desk, but then performed an almost theatrical double take.
Lucinda appeared in their room clad in a gorgeous cream Italian designer suit—slim, pencil-straight skirt, short-fitted, single-breasted jacket with a pale rose shirt, cuffs peeping from her sleeves, manicured hands clutching a pile of files topped by a pink-ribboned brief, and bronzed from her recent trip to Palma. Her hair radiated golden highlights from the sun or a treatment, Rebecca wasn’t sure which. But the most surprising thing of all was that she was smiling!
Deb looked posit
ively terrified.
“May I first of all say, Rebecca, how saddened I am about your father’s passing? I hope the funeral went as smoothly as we can expect these occasions to go in the circumstances. Secondly, I have just completed my longest-running court case, the Barton Sapphire case, which has been on-going for five long years. Our clients were successful and have been awarded five hundred thousand pounds in legal costs.”
“Thank you, Lucinda, I’m grateful for the time you allowed me to organise everything in Northumberland.” Rebecca felt braver now she had made her decision, so she added, “You look, erm, different?”
“Yes, sick of all the black. A change is called for.” And she swiveled on her red, four-inch stiletto heels, leaving an aroma of spring flowers in her wake.
“What the…” said Deb, winding in her jaw.
Deb glanced across the office and saw Georgina smirking. “You know something, don’t you? Spit it out. I can tell you’re bursting!”
Georgina flicked her short ebony curls behind her ears. “I’ve been bursting to spill the details I heard in the boardroom this morning from Grace. She got it straight from John Baringer himself.
“Lucinda just got back from Palma last night,” Georgina whispered, glancing over her shoulder as though making sure Lucinda had disappeared into her corner office. She grabbed Nathan’s empty chair and scuttled over to Rebecca and Deb. “Attended her sister’s wedding. Her younger sister, Louise, lives in Majorca. Married a Majorcan guy—gorgeous, looks like one of those passionate bull fighters, smoldering Mediterranean good looks, sun-kissed skin, taut buttocks, firm abs—”
“Calm down, Georgina, you’re dribbling. Get on with the gossip!” Deb was leaning in so close, her breasts threatened to spill from her low-cut, emerald silk blouse.
“She raised her sister, did you know? Their mother died when Lucinda was fifteen, Louise only seven, weeks before Lucinda sat her GCSEs. Instead of celebrations and parties after the exams, Lucinda stayed home, caring for Louise so their father could continue working and keep the roof over their heads. She studied hard for her A levels. What else was there for her to do, with a nine year old to nurture? She chose the local uni, too, instead of taking up the place she was offered to read law at Cambridge. Her sister would only have been ten or eleven by then. Their father died when Louise was at Leicester Uni studying modern languages. Lucinda was able to relocate to London to pursue her own belated dream of become a partner in a top London City law firm. Louise graduated ten years ago, landing a job in an infants’ school in Palma, which she loved. Can’t say I blame her when you see the guys on offer there. Look at Raphael Nadal and Sergio Garcia!
“Anyway, that left Lucinda with no family, no friends, and no boyfriend. So she did what she had always done and immersed herself in her glittering career, achieving her dream by becoming the youngest female partner here at Baringer, as we all know!”
“But I don’t understand her sudden change in fashion choices, Georgina. Those stilettos are gorgeous, Spanish designer definitely, but they’re scarlet. For the office! And did she say she’s just come from one of the most important court cases of her career?” Rebecca was flabbergasted.
“I haven’t got to the punch line yet—the girl-gets-the-guy bit!” Georgina continued, retucking her curls behind her ears. “Her sister’s wedding to the fiery Spaniard was held in the gothic splendor of La Seu Cathedral in Palma the weekend before last. Lucinda spent the following week of her annual leave holidaying in Majorca, sampling the local offerings.” She raised her darkly arched eyebrows as if aware of their undivided attention.
“She vacationed on an eighty foot luxury yacht berthed in Palma Marina with Raphael, the best man!”
“Wow,” Deb mouthed, eyes fixed on Georgina.
“No prizes for guessing how he succeeded in melting the ice dragon’s heart! The rhythm of the Mediterranean waves crashing against the quay, gently rocking the sparkling white yacht, whilst the passionate young—well, youngish—Spaniard launched his scorching breath onto the frozen dragon’s melting desire, their building passion, their mutual—”
“Georgina, what’s the matter with you? Is Jonathan not stepping up to the mark in the bedroom department or something?” Deb smirked.
“Oh, no complaints there,” she replied with a glint in her eye. “Did you see her suit? It’s silk, must have cost a thousand euros. Raphael clearly indulged her shopping craving in Palma, and that’s why she’s showing it off. But that’s not all.
“Lucinda was livid when we lost the Exquisite Forest business.” She nodded at Rebecca. “Yes, haven’t told you, and you probably haven’t spoken to Sam Russell, what with everything that’s happened, Becky, but Sam turned up at the office for her appointment with you. Lucinda had decided to conduct the interview herself rather than postpone what she hoped would be a lucrative business relationship. As usual, Lucinda was less than sympathetic to your predicament in Northumberland, so Sam refused to do business with her. Were you aware of Exquisite Forest’s ethical trading policies?
“Well, Lucinda was furious you hadn’t warned her in advance. Thankfully, you didn’t come back on that Wednesday—oh, no! I’m so sorry…I didn’t think…” Georgina’s face fell.
“It’s okay, Georgina. So the sudden transformation, from being livid beyond coherence to floating around in a cloud of fresh apple blossoms, dressed from the pages of a high-end glossy fashion magazine, is attributed to one sultry week of passion with a Spanish guy with a yacht and buttocks of steel to die for?” Rebecca queried, her eyebrows raised in skepticism.
“I’ve seen the wedding photos—he’s dazzlingly handsome.” She spoke as if to a very stupid child. “He’s a multi-millionaire, with an eighty-foot yacht moored in Palma Marina, one of the prettiest in the Mediterranean. What’s not to like? But the boat’s not the reason for the Cheshire cat smile. That cat got the cream, over and over.”
Deb snorted. “Let’s hope it’s the start of a Spanish odyssey. I’m inviting them to the wedding. Shame he won’t be able to land his helicopter on the grounds of Radley Hall! Becky, bring Max as your plus one, won’t you?”
“He started school last Wednesday. He’s regressed to his stressed-out, anxious self, chewing his new school jumper sleeve, flinching at the sight of any domestic pet. He’s latched on to Erin, you know, Brian’s daughter, but I’m really worried about him, he’s so listless. Every day last week when I collected him from the school gates he said he hated it and asked when we were going to live in Northumberland.”
“Are you considering jumping ship?”
“Yes.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
“Hi, Becky. Sorry about your dad. Tough call.” Nathan bounced to his cubicle and pinged on his computer, but his pale face spoke of his concern and empathy for his friend and colleague’s bereavement. He flashed his dark eyes and a smile across the office to Deb, followed by a nod of acknowledgement to Georgina, who was wrestling with a difficult client call.
“Thanks, Nathan. I’m doing okay,” Rebecca replied. “But what about you? I’m delighted to hear your news. How was the trip to Edinburgh with Millie? How’s your mum?”
“Becky, it was awesome. Mam and Millie spent the whole time in Mam’s back garden. Mam was able to sit in her wheelchair wrapped up in her fleece blanket on the patio, the heater blasting—she gets so cold now—and Millie just raced around the garden, spotting all the plants and flowers, trees, birds, and butterflies. Mam showed her sketches and watercolours she had painted when she was able. Emma doesn’t have a garden so Millie went wild!
“We played croquet with Mam’s old clubs, built a birdhouse out of the bits of wood and nails Dad keeps in the shed, and then painted it a lurid green. Enough to frighten any bird away.” He smiled.
Nathan had never been so animated, so talkative, so full of joy and enthusiasm—no pen flying between his fingers.
“I’m so grateful to Emma for allowing me to take Millie up to Scotland. Mam’s really frail n
ow.” He paused, flashing a concerned expression across to Deb who smiled and nodded back in encouragement.
“What I really want to do is thank you, Becky, and that little green book of miracles of yours, for giving me the shove up the backside I needed to do something positive. To take a leap forward into the unknown. Did Deb tell you about the police caution?” he asked sheepishly, keeping his voice low, so as not to disturb Georgina’s phone call.
“Yes, she did. It seems to me Emma’s change of heart had more to do with that ridiculous stunt than any little green book or court hearing though!”
“She admired my courage, she said.” Nathan sat up proudly. “But of course there were the TV interviews and the appearance next week on ‘This Morning’ with Phillip Scofield to speak about fathers’ rights. I’m a celebrity now, Becky! I’ve even had a call from the Big Brother House production company asking if I’d be interested in the next series! Emma wants me to do it, but I’m not sure.”
Deb and Rebecca rolled their eyes. Whatever Emma’s motivation for the renewed relationship between Millie and Nathan, it had had the desired result. It was unlikely Nathan would become a TV star, but stranger things had happened in the crazy topsy- turvy world of celebrity.
Georgina wound up her telephone conference, and then dragged her desk chair across the office to join in the team’s gossip. No one seemed concerned by the possibility of Lucinda emerging from her lair and chastising them for their blatant breach of the office manual.
Nathan rummaged in his tatty rucksack. “Becky, on the way back down from Edinburgh, I picked up an Evening Chronicle at Newcastle Central Station. Have you seen this?” He unfolded the newspaper, smoothing back the pages until he jabbed his finger on an article he’d outlined in red.
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