by Mandy Baggot
‘I’m sorry I interfered,’ Isla stated quickly.
‘Could you say that again? Only slower,’ Hannah said. ‘And with more feeling … and perhaps add “and I promise never to interfere again” on the end.’
‘I was just trying to help you,’ Isla said. ‘You know, so you didn’t have to do the asking out.’
‘Because my sister organising a date is so much cooler.’
Isla checked her watch. She needed to brief Aaron fully about the hospital project before she relinquished it … a little.
‘And now you’re not even listening!’ Hannah snapped. She pushed her wheelchair faster, tyres flicking up snow as she moved.
‘I am listening! Hannah, wait!’
Isla’s phone began to ring and running, pursuing her sister, she unzipped her bag and attempted to remove it. She managed to take it out and answer just before the junction. She put a finger in her free ear to dull the sound of traffic and the choir of school children who were singing ‘Good King Wenceslas’ on the corner. They all looked freezing. The front row all had blue lips. It was heart-warming though. She did love carols and if she hadn’t been on a mission to catch her sister she would stop and listen. The phone rang louder.
‘Hello, Isla Winters.’
‘Chase Bryan,’ the formal reply came. ‘Sorry … it’s Chase,’ he breathed. ‘I’m stuck between modes here.’
‘Oh, really, that sounds … painful.’ Her eyes went to Hannah, about to cross the road ahead of her. She needed to catch up. The way her sister was manhandling Ronnie she was liable to run over a pedestrian or find herself stuck on the bull bars of a 4 × 4. She started to move, looking left and right to dodge the traffic.
‘So, she has no fever but she has these spots all over her abdomen.’
‘Spots? Sorry, I’m not with you.’ And she wasn’t with Hannah either. The giant junction with four different intersections was coming up. She wasn’t going to let Hannah cross that on her own. Ever.
‘Maddie has a rash,’ Chase stated.
‘Oh! Oh no!’ Her attention was back with the phone call. ‘Well, have you pressed a glass against it?’
‘A what now?’
‘She doesn’t have a temperature?’
‘The temperature? I’ve got the heating on low. I guess it’s a little over sixty-five.’
‘Her temperature.’
‘She’s not hot,’ Chase replied. ‘Or cold.’
‘That’s good,’ she said. ‘But get a glass tumbler and press it to the spots.’
‘What’s gonna happen?’
‘Hopefully the spots will disappear when you press the glass to them.’
‘And that’s it?’ Chase asked. ‘That’s some magic British cure for a rash? If it works I will be floored.’
‘It’s not a cure. The spots will still be there when you remove the glass, but if they don’t disappear at all when you press the glass to them then you need to get her to the hospital.’
‘I’m getting a glass right now.’
‘Call me back …’
‘Can you stay on the line?’
She looked for Hannah. She couldn’t see her. There was a growing crowd of commuters ahead and her sister wasn’t in sight at all. Cars were beeping their horns, a red double-decker bus was motoring along. She needed to hurry. She quickened her pace, holding her elbow into her body as much as she could while still pressing the phone to her ear.
‘I’m still here,’ she answered Chase.
There was no response.
‘Chase?’
She was right at the edge of the street, about to tip into the traffic, to be propelled over the junction with no idea where her sister was. Suddenly something caught her arm and dragged her into the pole that housed the box you pressed for safe crossing.
‘Hannah!’ she exclaimed. ‘I was so worried. I thought …’
‘I could have crossed it on my own,’ Hannah replied. ‘But I knew you wouldn’t like it.’ She looked a little sheepish and all Isla wanted to do was hug her.
‘The spots disappeared, Miss Winters,’ Chase’s voice came through the phone.
Isla breathed a second sigh of relief and rolled her eyes at Hannah. ‘Good. It’s probably an allergic reaction to something.’ She took a breath of icy air infused with the beginnings of sleet. ‘Perhaps you could tell her it’s chocolate.’
‘That’s a very good idea,’ he replied. ‘So, what do I do now?’
‘I’ll get some cream on my way to the office.’
‘Thank you, Miss Winters.’
Isla ended the call and slipped her phone back into her bag.
‘That was Chase, wasn’t it?’ Hannah remarked, edging her wheelchair back towards the kerb.
‘Maddie has spots,’ Isla informed.
‘Hmm,’ Hannah said. ‘And you have flushed cheeks that I don’t think are coming from the cold weather or chasing your sister through London.’
‘What?’ Isla asked, instinctively putting her cold fingers to her face.
‘I don’t think I’m the only one with a crush on him,’ Hannah stated.
‘That’s poppycock!’
‘God, Isla, you say that to him, all Kate Winslet, and he might want to marry you.’ Hannah let out a laugh. ‘Come on. Or I’ll be late for work.’ She made to move off and then stopped. ‘Oh yes, yes karma, that’s just what I need right now.’
Isla let her eyes move to her sister’s sightline and there were two gorgeous guys, passionately locked in an embrace, one clinging on to the rail of the bus as he prepared to leave. Their parting looking like it could be eternal.
‘Another perfect Christmas kiss in Notting Hill I’m not on the receiving end of,’ Hannah sighed.
‘Christmas isn’t here yet,’ Isla told her softly. ‘There’s still time.’ She smiled. ‘Come on, if we’re quick we’ve got time for an espresso before I have to buy rash cream from Boots.’
Twenty-Nine
Breekers London, Canary Wharf
‘You look like something out of Doctor Who,’ Brooke commented.
They were in a boardroom that Chase had commandeered as his office and Isla was dabbing cream on Maddie’s neck and torso. It looked like a heat rash to her and she wondered just how high the Americans had needed to have the heating in their hotel room to feel warm in the UK.
‘What’s Doctor Who?’ Maddie queried.
‘Well,’ Isla began, ‘Doctor Who is just about one of the most famous British television shows. It features a “doctor” who goes backwards and forwards through time saving the world from alien things and some creepy-looking robots called Daleks. The latest doctor is a woman. And, for some reason, that caused quite a stir.’
‘You look like one of the alien things,’ Brooke remarked. ‘I’ve taken three photos and sent them to all my friends on Snapchat.’
‘Brooke!’
‘Try to keep still, Maddie, I’m almost finished,’ Isla said, liberally applying the Sudocrem.
‘It smells.’
‘Like a baby having its diaper changed,’ Brooke added.
‘Stop it!’
‘Listen,’ Isla said, popping the top back on the cream pot. ‘I’m sure if you two are really well behaved this morning then your dad will take you out somewhere this afternoon.’ That was her hope anyway. Despite agreeing to free up some of her tasks, she still had the Breekers party on her mind. A couple of hours of freedom from this titanic of an assignment, enjoying ordering the prosecco and making a final decision on canapés, if the blinis she’d wanted were really off the table. She was thinking hot turkey and cranberry on skewers with a take on Christmas pudding and brandy sauce in some sort of edible cone. There had been no response about that and when she’d phoned she’d got an answer machine.
‘Wanna bet?’ Brooke said with a heavy sigh. ‘All he does is work.’ She levelled her boot at one of the chairs. ‘He works every day, every night and every freakin’ vacation.’
‘This is the first time we’ve seen
Daddy since the end of the summer.’
‘What?’ Isla exclaimed. She had no right to be shocked at that. She had no right to be opinionated over any of this. His business was not her business.
‘He’s in New York,’ Brooke pointed out. ‘And we’re not.’
‘I realise that but—’
‘Mommy likes us to be with her and Colt,’ Maddie added.
Who was Colt? Their mother’s boyfriend? It was natural to be curious, wasn’t it? Perhaps Chase had someone else too. Why wouldn’t he? Just how long had they been separated?
‘It’s okay,’ Maddie carried on. ‘But I miss Daddy.’
‘And I hate Colt,’ Brooke added.
The boardroom door opened and Chase re-entered, with Melanie, Isla’s secretary, following him carrying a tray of drinks. Chase was on the phone.
‘I appreciate that, Rod. I know you’re a busy man …’ Chase spoke into the phone at his ear. ‘Absolutely. I will do. Bye.’
Melanie put the drinks on the table and headed back out of the room.
Chase put his phone down and clapped his hands together. ‘Good news, Miss Winters. That was Rod Striker returning my call. He’s agreed to have an informal chat about the super-hotel tonight at the Matthews’ party.’
Why had Chase plumped for that charlatan? Rod Striker was one of the most obnoxious men in planning she knew. And she didn’t remember putting his name on the list of people Chase should contact while he was here. She opened her mouth to say something along those lines but stopped herself. Her gaze met not Chase but his two children, one with her headphones stuck in her ears and a moody look and the other smeared with white cream like she was a ghost at Halloween. They needed to get out of this stuffy office.
‘Listen, Chase—’
‘So, this morning I thought we could look over the plans of the structure. I want to get your take on how we’ve initially done with meeting UK regulations. I want it to be perfect when we present to planning. I don’t want to give them any excuse for turning us down.’
‘Okay,’ Isla agreed with a nod. ‘But maybe we could take it out of the office.’
‘Out of the office?’ he queried.
She hitched her head to the left. Maddie was looking forlorn, playing with the fingers of her gloves in her hands and gazing out of the window at the snow falling. Brooke was nodding her head to something Isla could almost hear the lyrics to.
‘I take it the nanny agency wouldn’t take Maddie because of the rash and you didn’t want Brooke looked after on her own.’
No, the truth was the nanny agency had told Chase that they no longer had space for two children because someone was sick and it was December. They had said the word December like it was ridiculous to even think of getting any service, let alone good service in this month at late notice.
‘They need to get out of here,’ Isla told him. ‘All day cooped up in an office when the whole of London is out there waiting to be explored.’ She sighed. ‘They must be going stir-crazy.’ She sniffed. ‘And it’s almost Christmas. You know, bright, twinkling lights, everything covered in glitter, singing songs about silent nights and eating mince pies.’
God, Christmas. He was trying to do his best to forget it was on its way. He didn’t know where he would be spending it. He had presumed Leanna would have the girls and he would … what? Spend it alone? FaceTime Brooke and Maddie and pretend that was okay? And there Colt would be. Living the life he used to have. The life he had worked hard for, fought for, was still fighting for, to some degree.
‘We have work to do,’ he reminded her. ‘That’s the whole reason I’m in the UK.’
‘I know that. I just …’ He watched her swallow, as if she was getting ready to temper her words, withhold what she really wanted to say because he was her boss. He was used to that. It’s what happened all the time in New York. But, even only knowing her a day, he knew he didn’t want that from her. He’d already found her honesty endearing, and obviously a necessity to enable him to move along smoothly with this assignment.
‘Don’t start soft-soaping me, Isla,’ he interrupted. ‘I told you. I don’t want you on this project for that.’
She pushed back her flame-coloured hair, keeping her eyes on him. ‘Okay.’ She took a breath. ‘Let’s take the plans to … the Tower of London.’
‘The Tower of London,’ he repeated.
‘The girls can see the Crown Jewels and the yeoman tour and get some fresh air and we can talk about the plans as we go round. Maddie will love it.’ She smiled. ‘Then maybe we could head over to Madame Tussauds. I’m sure there will be all the celebrities Brooke knows and loves there.’
‘Rag ’n’ Bone Man?’ Chase queried.
‘What?’
He waved her reply away. ‘I’m not sure he’s real.’
‘I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped the mark but—’
‘I asked you to,’ Chase said. ‘And, let there be no doubt, I want marks overstepped. I want honesty.’
‘We might not be able to carry around foolscap plans but we can take an iPad or a laptop and work around that.’
She was right. His daughters. His beautiful daughters were here in London with him and he was virtually ignoring them. Not because he wanted to. Because he had to. For the business and, in a little way, for his own sanity. But they didn’t deserve this. They had done nothing wrong. The divorce was on him and Leanna.
‘We can do that,’ Chase answered.
‘We can?’ Isla asked.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Let’s go.’ He smiled. ‘Girls,’ he called, getting their attention. ‘Let’s go see the Queen of England’s bling.’
Thirty
The Tower of London
‘Wow!’ Maddie exclaimed.
She had said ‘wow’ three times now. The first had been in reaction to a speedboat they had seen zipping up the freezing-looking Thames, the second to all the big black horses outside the London Underwriting Centre and this third time in response to the Tower of London itself.
It was majestic. A large, foreboding castle wall surrounding four tall towers with domed roofs, all flying the Queen’s standard from each pinnacle. Every part of it was coated in snow, making it look a little like Hogwarts. Despite the trickle of wintry flakes falling from the sky, the sun was out, warming enough to render hats and gloves unnecessary. Isla led the way through the entrance, remembering the first time she and Hannah had visited. She had been seven, Hannah only two and they had held hands and chased the ravens around. There had been blossom on the trees then and they’d eaten a picnic of scotch eggs and homemade chocolate cake. For a second she was stung with a memory of her parents … and Hannah before the wheelchair. How different would life be now if that accident had never happened?
‘Is this where the Queen lives?’ Maddie queried.
‘She lives in Buckingham Palace, idiot,’ quipped Brooke.
‘Hey!’ Chase exclaimed. ‘Remember what I said about behaviour.’
‘Oh yes,’ Isla said. ‘You can’t be naughty here or the Beefeaters will lock you up in the White Tower.’
She watched as Maddie’s eyes went from their group to the turrets above them. She stuttered out: ‘Beefeaters?’
‘Is that what they call the guards?’ Brooke questioned.
‘Yes,’ Isla stated. ‘Apparently, they’re called that because in years gone by, right up until the nineteenth century, part of the salary of the yeoman was paid in chunks of beef right from the king’s table.’
‘You’re kidding, right?’ This came from Chase. ‘This is just a British story to kid the dumb American tourists.’
She laughed, shaking her head. ‘I swear it’s in the guidebook.’
‘I need one of those guidebooks, Miss Winters.’ He tutted. ‘And to think you promised me honesty.’ He shook his head. ‘How gullible am I right now?’
‘It’s true! Honestly!’
‘Come on, girls, we can’t trust anything this guide tells us.’ He linked arms with M
addie. ‘Let’s go find us a real yeoman to show us around.’
‘Fire exits,’ Isla whispered to Chase. She was holding an iPad in one hand, pressing the screen with her other.
‘There are currently six routes.’
‘You might have to revisit that.’ She zoomed in on the schematics. ‘And all the doors should be a minimum of one thousand and fifty millimetres, going up at five millimetres per person after a capacity of two hundred and twenty.’
‘Sshh!’
It was Brooke who had shushed them. They were being shown around the tower by a real-life yeoman who had accidentally loomed large over Maddie at the start of the tour and had her quivering with fear. Now she was staring at him, hanging on his every word, as he described the imprisonment, execution and torture that had taken place in this monument over the years. It was probably close to being a 12A rating.
‘Sorry,’ Isla whispered. ‘But it had just been playing on my mind since your presentation yesterday. That many rooms. That many people. Fire escapes are going to be looked at very closely.’ She took a breath. ‘And, after what happened at Grenfell, Breekers really need to be thinking about the very best there is with regard to sprinkler systems.’
‘I know that,’ Chase responded. ‘And with something that large, safety is always going to be paramount.’
She was glad they were on the same page about something. ‘So,’ she began, lowering her voice a little, ‘how many proposed sites do you have? And which one is the favourite?’ she asked. ‘I mean, judging on the scale of the project, I’m thinking only the very north of the city is going to have capacity.’
‘Did he just say how many people were beheaded here?’ Chase asked, appearing to tune into the guide.
‘I’m not sure,’ Isla admitted. So much for berating Chase about his only interest being work, she was just as bad. And she had suggested this outing in a bid to entertain his children. Perhaps, while he was occupied, she should click on to the caterer’s website for the Christmas party. See if there was a second phone number. She perhaps should have used the same company as last year but this one had a sparklier website … and was slightly cheaper, meaning she had more in the budget for props, and with the theme this year, props were vital.