by Mandy Baggot
‘This is good stuff, Miss Winters,’ he said. ‘Brooke has even taken her earbuds out.’
She looked up from the device. She had noticed that earlier. Also, as they had walked around the castle, Brooke had been pointing things out to her younger sister, making sure she didn’t miss anything.
Suddenly, there was a bang and a crash and Maddie leapt in the air as the yeoman stomped a staff to the flagstone floor. Isla instinctively pulled the girl towards her, iPad clasped under her armpit, hands on Maddie’s shoulders protectively as the other members of the tour all clapped their hands together in applause.
‘That was awesome,’ Maddie said through juddering lips. ‘Scary but awesome.’
Chase watched his daughters rushing up to the next exhibit of jewels. They were actually talking to one another. No sniping, just agreeably chatting, remarking on what they were seeing. It was nice. It was a welcome change and he didn’t really know why he had needed his British assistant to point out to him something that should have been obvious.
And the jewels themselves were astounding. Diamonds as big as walnuts – rubies, emeralds, sapphires – you name it, it was here in gargantuan form.
‘Wow!’ Maddie exclaimed. ‘This one is huge!’
‘Ah,’ Isla said, hurrying forward. ‘They’ve found the Imperial State Crown.’
‘Miss Winters, do you know everything there is to know about this place?’ Chase asked, keeping pace with her.
‘Not everything,’ Isla said. ‘I’ve just been here a few times.’
‘How many?’ he inquired. ‘Because I’ve been to the Statue of Liberty a score of times but I couldn’t tell you any of the dates or numbers.’
‘I like it here,’ she admitted.
‘Because of the diamonds?’
‘No,’ she answered. ‘Because of the history.’ She let out a breath. ‘For me it’s the history that makes London special. The stories, hundreds and thousands of years old, the people who have walked the same paths, seen the same sights …’
‘History has its place, of course, but every day we’re making a bit of new history, aren’t we?’ Chase asked.
‘Well, yes … but if it isn’t special why do millions of Americans come over to Britain to visit each year?’ She didn’t wait for him to answer. ‘It’s because we have what you don’t have.’
‘Quaint little cottages, fish and chips and teapots?’ Chase teased in his best British voice.
‘Relics,’ Isla informed him. ‘Real, ancient relics and one-of-a-kind experiences.’
‘And visitors will have the best of both worlds when Breekers opens the super-hotel.’ He drew in a breath. ‘Stay in the latest leisure village and go visit the monuments, knowing you’re coming back to duck-down covers and free, high-speed Internet.’
She shook her head, a smile on her lips. ‘No wonder they gave you the job as CEO. You really do have an answer for everything.’
Her reply hit him hard. But only because it was true. That was the sum strength of his employment. Being able to get him and the company out of a corner and knowing just what to say. That was his only talent these days but it had saved him in so many ways. Except, right now, when she’d asked him about the proposed sites he had had no words. After last night, finding out exactly where Isla and her sister lived, he was getting concerned about the final boundaries for the Notting Hill area plan. He needed to look at the map again as soon as he could, because on his walk to the corner of Beaumont Square to wait for the Uber, he’d seen Hogarth Lane … and he was pretty sure that was a street name he recognised.
Thirty-One
Madame Tussauds
‘Maddie, look! Here’s the Queen! You’d better bow.’
Brooke laughed as her sister ran up to her and gawped at the waxwork in front of them.
‘Now that is life-like,’ Chase commented as he and Isla joined the children in front of Elizabeth II, the model dressed in white and silver lace, a bright blue sash over one shoulder.
‘There are fifty-three thousand crystals in that dress,’ Isla informed them.
‘Miss Winters, seriously? How do you know this stuff?’ Chase asked.
She fluttered the guidebook at him. ‘It’s in here.’ She smiled. ‘I’ve always been more of a counting escape routes girl rather than a Swarovski girl.’
‘But you like the details,’ Chase said as they moved along to Prince Philip. ‘And details are important.’
Yes, he was right. Despite her role at Breekers being predominantly for the money, she did enjoy the planning, organisation and fine-checking. It was what she had always been best at. No stone was left unturned on her projects. If you could pre-empt catastrophe then catastrophe never had room to breathe. It was a similar story at home with Hannah. She was always prepared. Like the very best girl scout.
‘You know, when these plans were drawn up,’ Chase began, ‘and I mean more an artist’s impression rather than the detailed versions we have today, not one person asked about exits.’
‘And they were the first things I thought of,’ she replied. ‘How dull must you think I am? Not to be wowed by the casino or the cordon bleu restaurant.’
‘Not dull,’ he answered. ‘Practical.’
‘I’m not sure that’s a step up from dull.’
‘It was a compliment, Miss Winters. Take it.’
She looked at him, found those eyes dreams were made of and felt her cheeks heating up like a Madame Tussauds model next to a woodburner. This was all Hannah’s fault and her comments about crushes this morning.
‘Daddy!’ Maddie called. ‘Take a photo of me and Prince Harry!’
Chase stepped towards Maddie who was posing next to the model of the young prince dressed in Army fatigues. ‘Okay, smile and say “Let’s go eat lunch soon”.’
‘Let’s go eat lunch soon,’ Maddie said, showing teeth.
‘Lame,’ Brooke mumbled, shaking her head.
Chase snapped the photo then turned to his elder daughter.
‘Brooke, you want me to take a photo of you with someone?’ he asked. ‘Maybe sat on Will.i.am’s lap on those chairs from The Voice?’
Brooke shook her head.
‘Or Adele?’ Chase asked.
‘Can we eat already?’ Brooke asked, poking her earbuds back in.
Chase turned to Isla. ‘Miss Winters, where’s the best place to eat around here?’
‘Well …’ Isla began.
‘Can we go to the cake shop again? I really wanna Christmas muffin and hot chocolate.’
‘The cake shop?’ Chase queried.
‘In Notting Hill,’ Maddie quipped. ‘It was called something with sugar.’
‘Sugar High,’ Isla informed. ‘You know that’s only a few streets from my house.’
‘You are so lucky to live so close to somewhere that does cake that good,’ Maddie answered, practically licking her lips.
His stomach was turning again and not in a suggestion of hunger. He might not remember the exact final coordinates of the proposed boundary for the super-village, but one thing he did know was that the street where Sugar High was located was definitely in line to be demolished. That’s why they had been in Notting Hill that very first day. So he could envisage how the land was going to look, levelled and prepared for construction. And he was absolutely not going to start thinking emotionally about that. So, his kids liked cake? Cake could pretty much be found anywhere.
‘We can find a cake shop a little closer,’ Chase suggested. ‘Miss Winters …’
‘Well, we could go to Selfridges. They are very famous for their afternoon teas and—’ Isla began.
‘I really, really wanna go to Sugar High, Daddy,’ Maddie said, pulling on Chase’s arm.
This was ridiculous. Of course they could go there. Why shouldn’t they? He was getting too sentimental and losing his focus. He blamed Christmas. There was tinsel just about everywhere here – hanging from Michael Jackson and Benedict Cumberbatch – a tree with flashing silver lights
and golden bells next to Rafael Nadal. There was nothing wrong with making memories in London, especially if the area would be different this time next Christmas. Good times, then moving on to a new history, just like he’d told Isla earlier.
‘Sure,’ he replied to Maddie. ‘We can go to Sugar High.’
O-Y-F. Own Your Future. This project being a success was all that mattered. It was going to set him and his children up for life and prove to Leanna and Colt that hurting him had not destroyed him. That he was, and would remain, strong.
He smiled at Isla. ‘Let’s go.’
Thirty-Two
Notting Hill
Seeing the part of the city she had grown up in through Maddie’s eyes made Isla fall in love with it a little bit more. On leaving the Tube station she had deliberately walked them south, knowing how much the nine-year-old was going to adore everything on their way to Portobello Road.
‘Oh, Brooke, you know I’ve always wanted a pink house. Look at all the houses!’
Maddie’s eyes went to the townhouses painted in every colour imaginable. Bright red, canary yellow and Greek flag blue, all nestled together, their tiled roofs clad in thick, white snow. There were holly wreaths on doors, flickering electric candles in the bay windows, lines of fairy lights across the eaves … she really did need to pep up her and Hannah’s decorations this year.
‘I’m surprised they could paint them like that,’ Chase remarked. ‘Isn’t there some British bylaw that states they’ve gotta be “in keeping” with their surroundings.’
‘Speaks the man proposing a super-hotel.’
Isla knew Chase wouldn’t like it here. It wasn’t clinical lines and chrome fixtures and fittings like his proposals. It was different and Bohemian with a new scene around every corner.
‘It is in keeping with the surroundings,’ she continued. ‘Perhaps if only one person had painted their house and the others were all white but …’
She didn’t need to finish her sentence. She breathed in, stepping on through the snow and heading for Portobello Road.
‘Are we going to the market again?’ Maddie queried, linking her arm through Isla’s. ‘I liked the market. I even liked the weird toy hamsters with the googly eyes.’ She lowered her voice. ‘I was thinking of getting Brooke one for Christmas.’
‘They were guinea pigs,’ Isla told her in whispered tones. ‘Like a hamster, only bigger, with no tail.’
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen a real one.’
‘I had one when I was little. He was called Fudge,’ Isla told her.
‘What happened to him?’
‘Oh, he died.’
‘That’s so sad!’ Maddie exclaimed, rubbing at the spots on her face with her free hand.
‘Not too sad,’ Isla said. ‘He was five. That’s a good age for a guinea pig.’
‘OMG,’ Brooke erupted, earphone being tugged from her ears. ‘Can I smell Asian food?’
‘Asian, Greek, Spanish, Portuguese … there’s everything here.’
‘Maddie, come on, we don’t want muffins when there’s Asian!’ Brooke exclaimed. ‘When was the last time we had Asian?’
Maddie was practically dribbling in anticipation. ‘I really can’t remember.’
‘There’s a street food café called Diwali just fifty yards along here, run by my friends Geeta and Iqbal. They do the most amazing laal maas.’
‘What’s that?’ Maddie asked.
‘It’s jungle red lamb,’ Isla informed. ‘It’s quite spicy.’
‘I want that,’ Maddie stated. ‘Can we go there, Daddy?’
‘I don’t know. I was kind of sold on cake now,’ Chase said.
‘Dad!’ Brooke exclaimed. ‘You love Asian food! You and Mom had Asian food for every wedding anniversary!’
Everything suddenly went quiet apart from the hubbub from the street. Brooke’s cheeks began to pink up, her fingers went to her mouth, and she started chewing on the nails.
‘I do love Asian food,’ Chase jumped in. ‘And who says it has to be for a special occasion, huh? It’s almost Christmas and I’m freaking starving.’
Maddie cheered, let go of Isla’s arm and instead clasped hold of her sister, pulling her into the buzzing melee of shoppers, commuters and tourists, enjoying the mad mix of sunshine and snow showers.
‘I apologise,’ Isla said, matching Chase’s pace as they followed the children.
‘You’re apologising for making my kids crazy happy at the thought of Indian food in a multicoloured building?’
She smiled at his attempt at humour. ‘No, I mean, getting them caught up in the Notting Hill vibe here. I’m afraid it does that to people.’
‘I guess that’s why they set the film here, right?’ Chase answered.
‘And the film is the reason my sister has Hugh Grant by her bed every night.’
‘He really lives around here?’ Chase asked.
She laughed, shaking her head. ‘Not the real one. Hannah’s is twelve inches of solid plaster. Sometimes she carries it in her handbag and one thing I’ve learned is that you must never underestimate a paraplegic’s upper body strength.’
‘I don’t know how you deal with that, Miss Winters,’ Chase said.
‘Deal with what?’ Isla asked.
God, he was an idiot. That had come out completely wrong and there was no getting out of it.
‘I just … Hannah being in a wheelchair … I can’t imagine how hard that must be.’
‘Hard for me?’ Isla queried. ‘Well, yes, because she’s a complete opinionated pain in the arse and still refuses to stop watching Big Brother.’ She sighed. ‘Actually it’s harder for her, you know, not being able to walk.’
He nodded. ‘Yeah, I get that … I mean, I guess I don’t actually get that, but …’ He was making a complete mess of this. ‘How did it happen?’
‘A car accident,’ Isla responded quickly. ‘Our parents were killed and Hannah … ended up not being able to walk.’
‘Hey. I shouldn’t have asked.’
She shrugged like it didn’t matter and a gnawing in his gut told him he ought to do something, reach out to her somehow. He took a hand out of the pocket of his trousers …
‘It could have been worse,’ Isla said, a smile on her lips. ‘And as annoying as she is, she does get us the best seats at concerts.’
He swallowed, retracting his hand before she could notice.
‘That was a joke,’ Isla told him. ‘Hannah loves wheelchair humour.’ She took a breath. ‘And that’s the most amazing thing about my sister. She might get frustrated sometimes, currently with our postman, but she never really wastes any time feeling sorry for herself. And I admire that so much.’ She smiled. ‘I admire her.’
Chase watched her expression go from sad to contemplative to happy like a fast-forward of the changing seasons. His Go-To Girl was gorgeous as well as intuitive, they were all about to eat Asian food and he was going to deliver on his promise to Breekers. Suddenly, here in London, life was better than it had been for some time.
‘I think I’d like to try this jungle red lamb,’ Chase told her. ‘And you can talk me through who’s gonna be at the Matthews’ party tonight.’
‘Okay,’ Isla said. ‘Actually, you can see the venue from Diwali.’
‘You can?’ Chase queried. ‘It has views of Canary Wharf from here?’ He found that hard to believe.
‘No,’ Isla laughed. ‘The Matthews’ party isn’t in the city. This year it’s at the Electric Cinema.’
‘The what now?’
‘It’s here,’ she smiled. ‘Right in Notting Hill. On this street.’
He steeled himself, forcing a smile on to his lips. Of course it was. Because right now, somehow, Notting Hill was the epicentre of everything.
Thirty-Three
Diwali
Somehow, breaking her no-alcohol-at-lunchtime rule didn’t seem so bad when Isla was doing it with the CEO of the company. And it was December. December had different rules. Geeta’s homemade
sweet apple white wine infused with notes of spice was slipping down nicely and the warmth of the cosy burgundy-and-chocolate-painted interior was making her feel like Mumbai in the autumn, not the UK in winter. There were no traditional Christmas decorations here but, as every year, Geeta had hung Indian garlands and bright pink bunting with gold tassels across the ceiling and around the window frames.
Maddie and Brooke had declared they were too full for dessert after poppadoms, patties, and mouth-watering lamb but were now digging their spoons into chocolate kulfis.
‘My God, Miss Winters, I have to give it to you,’ Chase said, sitting back in his chair. ‘That was the best food I’ve ever tasted.’
‘Better than cake,’ Maddie commented, ice cream on her nose.
‘My goodness! Better than cake?’ Isla said with a smile. ‘I don’t believe it.’
‘You come here a lot?’ Chase asked, taking a sip of wine.
‘Probably at least once a fortnight,’ Isla replied. ‘Hannah loves the mushroom balti. She would actually probably eat it every day if we could afford it.’
Oh dear. The wine was loosening her tongue. Had she just sounded like she was angling for a pay rise? It wouldn’t go amiss, but bluntly dropping hints into conversation was more Aaron’s style, not hers. She quickly continued. ‘And, you know, Indian food all the time isn’t that good for you … the spices and the … ghee.’
He smiled at her. ‘Gotta love the ghee.’
‘So, what’s the Asian food in America like?’
‘Not anything like this,’ Chase admitted. ‘Apart from this one little place we used to get takeout. It was in Brooklyn, run by this Indian couple who looked about a hundred years old—’
‘The poppadoms crackled and popped in your mouth,’ Maddie butted in.
‘Their naan bread was the best,’ Brooke added.
‘What happened?’ Isla asked. ‘Did it close?’
‘What?’
‘You said it was where you used to get takeaway,’ Isla said. ‘Did it shut down?’