“Oh, I think he does,” said Kate, her tone cool.
As she walked back from lunch chatting to Pippa about the joys of a good handbag, her mobile vibrated into life and as it was “home” calling she took the call.
“Hello,” said Kate, thinking how odd it was to get a call from her own house when there was usually only her there, although of late it had become a little like Times Square on New Year’s Eve. “Are you a burglar wanting to know where the good stuff is hidden? Because the bad news is, I don’t have any!”
“Ha ha!” trilled Sarah.
“You okay?”
“Yes, we’re fine. Andy is on red alert and there’s still no sign of Shaun. I think the bastard has won the lottery and buggered off to the Caribbean. I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Glad you’re okay. I’m aiming to be home for seven tonight. Che has promised an early finish as it’s been a long week and we are nearly back on schedule.”
“Great. Reason for calling is that you’ve had a delivery.” Sarah’s voice was all excited now, like a child with a secret.
“I’ve not ordered anything for ages. How big is the box?”
“It’s not in a box, it’s everywhere,” laughed Sarah.
“Sarah, spit it out, what’s been delivered? It’s not bricks for next door’s wall?”
“No, it’s flowers!”
“Flowers?”
“Yes. You know pretty coloured things on the end of green stalks, smell nice and keep me in a job. Well one of my jobs.”
“Who would send me a bunch of flowers? Was there a card?”
“Kate, you might want to sit down.”
“No, I’m fine.”
“Right, but I did warn you. There are approximately 20 massive bouquets of flowers and every card just says ‘Kate, I am truly sorry’.”
“Twenty? But who… Oh crikey. Okay, thanks for letting me know.”
“That’s not all. There are another 20 or so baskets of flowers, five big outdoor troughs and a huge cake stand of cupcakes. They might not last the day, I’m afraid, as Amy already has her eye on them. Who are they from?” she could barely contain her excitement,
“Timothy Calder.”
“No way! Careful, I might actually wet myself! Tell me why.” Sarah was burning with intrigue.
“He’s been an idiot and, well, I’ve been an idiot, too. I got upset over something and now he’s trying to get round me.”
“Did you shag him?” said Sarah excitedly.
“No! I bloody didn’t. It’s a dull story; I’ll tell you tonight. But there was no sex involved.”
“Sounds like my life.”
“Look, keep the cupcakes for Amy’s party tomorrow, pick out anything you want to keep, and please can you see if Esme will let you borrow the van to transport everything else up the convalescent home. Make sure Didi gets the best bouquet, would you?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Sorry, that was really bossy of me. Have you got time to do that?”
“You need a PA! But it’s fine, I’m sure I can fit it in somewhere. Are you sure you don’t want to see them first, at least? They are truly amazing.
“No thanks,”
“Okay, it’s your call.”
“Thanks, Sarah. I have to go and kick Timothy Calder’s backside.”
“Can I kiss it better…?” offered Sarah enthusiastically, as Kate cut her off.
Marcus was playing with a pencil when Tim found him and he saw the look in Marcus’s eyes as he stepped into the room and it saddened him. He knew he was a complete idiot, but if he’d stopped to think of the potential disaster this had become, of course he would have pointed out the error immediately. It didn’t seem to do any good repeating the fact that it wasn’t as if he had gone out of his way to upset anyone and he hadn’t manufactured the story, it was simply that Kate had muddled the names. But blaming Kate for this wasn’t the way to resolve it. Marcus stopped twirling the pencil.
“Look, I’ll say it again in the hope that eventually you’ll believe me. I am truly sorry.”
“Yes, I know, dear boy, but what has been done cannot be undone.”
“True. I need your help, Marcus.”
“What now?” Marcus sounded tired.
“I need to talk to Kate, but she’s ignoring me.”
“Can you blame her?”
“No, of course not, but I wish she’d shout at me or something.”
“Kate doesn’t shout, she’s a lady. There are very few of them around.”
“I’ve sent her some flowers.” Marcus looked down his nose at Tim, awaiting more information. “Lots of flowers. She’ll come home to a house full of flowers, which should cheer her up.”
Marcus just shook his head, “Will you never learn?”
“Clearly not, which is why I need your help. What else can I do?”
“Stop the overblown gestures, for a start. You won’t impress her by buying her things. You are just reinforcing what she already believes to be true about you.”
“Which is?” said Tim cautiously.
“That you are a spoilt man who has been pampered and cossetted and thinks that he can buy or charm his way out of any situation. No offence.”
“Some taken.”
Chapter 19
Tim stood and stared out of his hotel-room window at a view he rarely noticed now. London was dressed in darkness and adorned with the sparkle of a million lights. Looking out over the River Thames he watched as the London Eye, a circle of bright-blue lights, turned imperceptibly. The bridges, all swathed in illuminations, drew his attention further downriver to Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, awash with amber beams that highlighted its magnificence, even at this distance.
Tim sighed to himself. Eight years ago, this had all been so new and magical. He remembered his very first film premiere and the excitement he had felt. Also the fear and the thought that had flashed through his mind – so this is how a hedgehog feels when it’s about to cross a motorway.
His jet-black limo had glided into position and the cameras had flashed their blinding-white blasts, lighting up the street like cheap fireworks. The crowd erupted into screams and the press jostled elbows in a last-ditch attempt to get the best position and capture “the” photograph of the night. A hotel footman glided forward to open the rear limo door and Tim had stepped out and beamed back a smile to out-blind the paparazzi. The Agent X film premiere had been a huge success. Anyone who was noteworthy had braved the crisp winter’s evening to be a part of it and all were gushing the film’s praises.
After years of small TV roles, he was finally a big-screen actor, a star before he was 25 and everyone was talking awards, fame, fortune and sequels. Days don’t get much better than this, he had thought. He scribbled autographs, smiled confidently and gave a last wave. “Don’t trip over, don’t trip over,” he recited softly as he bounded up the hotel steps and into the party.
So much had happened on the run-up to that night. He had been wrenched from wallowing in his trackie bottoms and slobbing around on his sofa onto a conveyer belt of promotional interviews and publicity shoots. This was exactly the sort of excitement he had wanted in his life. And exciting though it was, he was more than a little nervous, as very few people had actually seen the film. He had remembered how the doubt had crept in, actually not so much creeping – it had been more like a pissed teenager arriving home at 4 o’clock in the morning banging into everything and alerting everyone to their presence. Tim still harboured the fear that someone would find him out and uncover him as the average actor he was and the dream would be over.
Agent X had been how he had met Marcus, an already accomplished script writer that had taken him under his wing. He remembered Marcus at the party and how the briefest of nods had managed to convey the pride of a man watching his son lift the FA Cup. Tim had drunk far too much champagne that night. He recalled the taste of it and the sensation as the chilled liquid washed through his system.
Meeti
ng one particular person had sent everything off on a different trajectory. He could picture the tumbling curls of blonde hair, the deep-blue eyes and amazing figure. The amount of alcohol consumed that night hadn’t blurred the memory.
And that was it. That was the moment that had changed him forever, changed him into the person he was now and one he wasn’t very fond of. Tim longed to bring back that naïve and unjaded person, the man unaffected by that night and the years of celebrity life that had followed. He stared again at the lights as London showed off in the dark and, for the first time in a very long time, he appreciated the sight in front of him and felt grateful.
Kate was ridiculously pleased to wake up in her own house and it was also lovely to have people staying, with the exception of Curry, the hamster, who had taken up residence in the study. He was putting Kate off from even venturing in, let alone working in there.
Sarah had been completely brilliant and had got rid of all the flowers, with the exception of the troughs, which had been too big and heavy, so Andy had lugged them to the furthest corner of the garden, where they were out of sight. Sarah had also given a basket of the most exotic flowers to Concetta, who had apparently been thrilled. They had shared a great meal and when they had finally got the very excited Amy up to bed, on her Birthday Eve, they had opened a bottle of wine and held a full trial and judgement of Timothy Calder. Sarah and Andy had been perfect friends as they had listened to the whole story of the name mix-up and had totally sided with Kate and slagged off Tim, which had made her feel a whole lot better.
Kate looked at the clock. It was only a quarter-past-six but she could hear muffled voices coming from downstairs. She slung on her dressing gown and slippers and went in search of the birthday girl. As Kate walked into her living room she was struck by the loveliness of the family scene she was presented with. Andy and Amy were sitting on the floor surrounded by ripped-up wrapping paper, both studying some Lego instructions, and Sarah was sitting in a chair reading Amy’s birthday cards one by one. It looked the perfect picture of a normal, happy family.
“Happy Birthday, Amy!” Kate said, holding out a large parcel.
“Kate, you’re up! Now can we put the music on?” pleaded Amy, as she skipped over to Kate. “Thanks Kate,” she added, taking the big package and returning to her place next to Andy to unwrap it. “It’s a Wii, it’s a Wii! Kate got me a Wii! Wow, this is the best thing ever! Thank you!” and she came scrambling over the box, presents and paper to give Kate a hug.
“You’re very welcome. What else did you get?” Kate sat on the arm of Sarah’s chair so she had a view of the proceedings. Amy rattled through the presents, which also included a few new clothes, a new school bag and books from Sarah. Andy had clearly pushed the boat out and bought her lots of traditional games that he had enjoyed as a child and wanted to share with Amy. Kate found herself watching Sarah, who was, in turn, watching Andy and Amy intensely. When the living-room floor was cleared for the inaugural game of Wii Sports, Kate and Sarah retreated to the kitchen to sort out breakfast.
“Anything from Shaun?” asked Kate, trying to sound casual.
“No present, no card, no text, no phone call. Unless, of course, he’s been to the house since midday yesterday, when I called in to put the jellies in the fridge.”
“Irene?”
“No. Sadly, she can make it to the party, so we’ll have the joy of her company later,” Sarah made a snarling noise.
“So, you and Andy, what’s going on there?” Kate gave Sarah a gentle nudge in the ribs as she started getting breakfast things out of the cupboard.
“Nothing,” said Sarah.
“Don’t you think that there should be something, though? Look at him with Amy. Look at the three of you. You make a perfect family.”
“But we’re not, are we? There’s Shaun, and more baggage than Heathrow clears in a year!” Sarah was irritably pulling at her hair and trying to make it go in the right directions.
Kate turned around and leaned back against the cupboard, “So you would like there to be something with Andy?”
Sarah looked momentarily coy. “Might not be too awful,” she smiled, but it was brief. “But why start making up silly stuff like that when it’s never likely to happen?”
“Stop being such a pessimist. You like him, he likes you and he adores Amy. It has got to be worth a go. What’s the worst that could happen?” Kate handed Sarah bowls and plates, which she took from her, but just stood there holding them.
“Shaun. He’s the worst that could happen.”
“But he can’t stop you seeing other people. Anyway, Andy can handle Shaun. Shaun has ruined enough of your life. Don’t let him spoil something that could be… well, something special.”
“Yuk. You writers are so schmaltzy,” Sarah said, pulling a face before side-stepping Kate’s pretend-swipe at her.
Kate and Sarah had a giggle making the food for the party. Kate was especially pleased with her cucumber crocodiles in a lettuce swamp, and Sarah’s shark-infested fruit salad was quite scary. Kate had to admit that the cupcakes that had been delivered did look impressive and she was looking forward to trying one at the party, but just looking at them made her feel sad and cross at the same time. The cupcakes had had a small makeover so that they would fit in with the animal theme of the party and now had jelly snakes coiled on top of every one. There were also stacks of sandwiches, which, thanks to a set of animal cutters, were now shaped like teddies, ducks and dinosaurs – although probably pushing the theme a little, they were sure the children would enjoy them. The cake was a work of art and had taken Sarah most of the day before to perfect; it was a chocolate rabbit cake and trying to keep it a secret from Amy had been the hardest thing. They merrily loaded the things into Kate’s and Sarah’s cars and Kate could sense the change in Sarah and knew what was troubling her.
“Don’t let him spoil it. If he turns up we’ll just call the police and Irene won’t cause any real trouble with Amy there.” She put an arm round Sarah’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze. Sarah gave a weak smile in return.
“I know, but even if he doesn’t turn up, he’s still this dark shadow looming over everything, peeing on any signs of fun.”
“There will be no peeing on anything today, trust me,” and she gave her another hug for good measure.
They all gave an inward sigh of relief when there was no sign of Shaun at the house, although Amy was a little disappointed that there were no more cards or presents waiting for her. Thankfully she was easily distracted by the prospect of another 12 presents arriving with her friends shortly. A flurry of activity saw balloons blown up, bunting hung in the garden, and the food, all carefully covered in clingfilm, laid out on the kitchen table with a space for the rabbit cake that was hiding in Sarah’s bedroom until its grand entrance. Amy danced about the garden in her new dress, ignoring the regular calls from her mother to not get dirty before the party. Just as the adults all slumped onto the new plastic garden chairs, the door bell buzzed. A very hairy young man appeared carrying two large black boxes with carry handles.
“Hi, I’m Steve, Esme’s nephew. I’m guessing this is the right house for the party?” He nodded at the balloons and large number six dangling around the doorframe.
“You’re a good detective. Let’s hope you’re as good at entertaining a tribe of rowdy kids,” said Sarah, ushering him through the house to the garden. Steve decided to set up on the grass so that the children could sit on cushions on the patio. He put up some hinged boards and placed a series of black boxes behind them. Kate and Andy were quite intrigued and made sure they were in a good position for when it started. Kate was feeling quite relaxed as she sat enjoying the intermittent sunshine that peeped out sporadically from behind the passing clouds. She would be on orange-squash duty once the children arrived, so it was best to enjoy the short spell of peace while it lasted. Her moment of peace was soon shattered by a thundering of knuckles on the side gate. Andy was up on his feet and opening the
gate before Kate could even grab her mobile, just in case it was time for the emergency call she feared might be needed.
“Hello,” said Andy with a deep sigh of relief as he opened the gate fully and stood back to let Irene and two large pound-shop bags come past.
“You took ya time! Didn’t ya hear me banging?” Andy chose to ignore the ludicrous suggestion and offered to take the bags. “They ain’t for you,” she said as she marched around the patio, bumping Kate with one of the bags as she did so.
“Ow,” protested Kate. “Hello, Irene,” she added, sounding a lot friendlier than she felt, but Irene ignored her and headed into the house, closely followed by Andy.
“Nanny Irene!” shouted Amy when she saw her.
“’appy birfday darlin’. Nanny’s got loads of brillyant stuff for ya.” Irene put down the bags and gave Amy kiss and a hug.
“Hello, Irene, glad you could join us,” said Sarah, with a very fake smile and her fingers crossed behind her back. “Can I get you a drink of anything?”
“Anyfin strong and large,” she said, without looking at Sarah.
“One Incredible Hulk coming right up,” Sarah said, as she went to source some grown-up drinks. She was just pondering over whether Southern Comfort ever went out of date, when she was aware of someone else in the room. She turned round quickly, looking startled.
“You livin’ on ya nerves, are ya?” laughed Irene. “Wonder why that is?” She plonked herself down on the sofa. Irene appeared to have attempted to style her own hair today, which had made it look as if she had an Abyssinian guinea pig living on her head and it was having a particularly bad fur day. Sarah poured some Southern Comfort into a tumbler and handed it to Irene. Irene took the glass, but kept it held out and sniffed loudly. Sarah obligingly added more Southern Comfort until Irene nodded.
“So, any update on Shaun?” Sarah said, trying to sound nonchalant as she busied herself with pouring wine for her and Andy.
“They haven’t found him yet, but they will. They got people helping them wiv their enquiries.” She took a large swig from the glass and grimaced.
It Started at Sunset Cottage Page 22