by Mandy Baggot
‘You were in bed when I got in,’ Isla said. ‘And I almost woke you up to shout at you for even attempting to make it from downstairs to upstairs and into bed on your own without anyone in the house!’
‘Blah blah blah. Change the download,’ Hannah said, waving her away and pumping Ronnie’s wheels with one hand. ‘I take it there were no spares or strikes involved with the date.’
Not in the bowling context. She couldn’t stop the heat reaching her cheeks despite the chill from the wind this morning. ‘We went to the London Eye,’ Isla informed. ‘For dinner.’
‘Oh my God,’ Hannah stated. ‘A private capsule.’ She stopped wheeling and put both hands to her mouth, skidding to a halt just before tyres met the road.
‘Han, be careful,’ Isla said, grabbing the wheelchair.
‘Oh my God!’ Hannah said again. ‘You did it, didn’t you?!’ Her voice seemed to suddenly get really loud. ‘You did it on the London Eye!’
‘Hannah, please, people are listening and I work just over there.’
‘Isla! You are a legend! I mean, forget the Mile High Club, you’ve had sex at four hundred and forty three feet in the middle of London, on a freaking wheel encased in glass, looking out over the Thames … under the stars …’ Hannah let out a heavy sigh. ‘It makes my wish for a Christmas kiss in Notting Hill pale into insignificance.’
‘Don’t be silly,’ Isla replied. She couldn’t say anything else. The words her sister had used to describe last night had brought all the tantalising memories flooding back.
‘So, is he as hot without his clothes on as the fine cut of that suit would lead us to believe?’ Hannah asked with a grin. ‘Or did you keep your clothes on? Although if you couldn’t bowl in your dress I’m not sure how you would manage to—’
‘I need to get to work,’ Isla reminded her, beginning to walk again.
‘So what happens now?’ Hannah asked. ‘Are you “in a relationship”? Or is it “it’s complicated”?’
‘I’m … not sure.’ They hadn’t talked about it. It hadn’t seemed necessary. But today was a new day and they were working together. Professionalism had to be maintained, she really needed to get to grips with this Christmas party, and there was nothing they could do about Notting Hill until they heard from New York. But what did she want going forward? A relationship? Was it even possible?
‘Well, right now, I like him,’ Hannah admitted with a sniff. ‘But, believe me, he treats you in any way less than a princess I can turn … and I can turn quickly.’
Isla smiled at her sister. ‘I know.’
‘So, I’m the only lonely singleton around here again … apart from Mrs Edwards and at least she has a slightly crumpled cat for company.’
‘No more dates planned with Raj yet?’
‘I think it’s his turn to ask me,’ Hannah said defiantly.
‘So, what time does your party at the centre start today?’
‘Twelve thirty. But we’re decorating the place this morning.’ Hannah sighed. ‘I say “decorating”; there’s only so much you can do with paper chains, two wise men and a rubber turkey.’
From inside her handbag Isla’s phone began to ring. ‘Sorry, Han, give me a second.’ She pulled it out and looked at the display. It was the Warlock Centre, the lovely renovated chapel she had booked for the Breekers’ Christmas party.
‘Hello,’ Isla answered the phone, smiling at Hannah. ‘Yes, this is Isla Winters. Yes, that’s right.’ The very next words made the smile fall from her face. She wanted to drop to the frosty ground. ‘Oh, I … don’t know what to say … that’s terrible … I’m so sorry but of course I understand …’ She wanted to cry, in fact, she could feel the tears building. ‘Thank you for letting me know. Goodbye.’ She ended the call, dropping the phone into her bag and putting a hand to the back of her hair, pulling at a section in frustration.
‘Who was that?’ Hannah asked. ‘It sounded a bit dramatic.’
Isla nodded. ‘You could say that.’ She took a deep breath. ‘That was the venue for the Breekers’ Christmas party. A water pipe’s burst and it’s completely flooded. They’ve had to cancel our booking.’
Seventy-Two
‘Aaron, I need your help,’ Isla stated. Adrenalin pumping furiously, she had run up the stairs to their floor determined to take action.
‘Undressing Chase Bryan? Telling Ethel not to make any more of these bloody pompoms that seem to get lower and lower as advent progresses?’ He lifted himself up from his chair and headed one of them like a pro-footballer. ‘Or is it … the super-hotel?’ He grinned then, almost manically. ‘You need ideas for glitz and glamour, don’t you?’
‘What I need,’ Isla said, ‘is for you to think.’
‘This early?’ Aaron asked, checking his watch. ‘Darling, I can’t work miracles.’
‘It’s not funny, Aaron.’ She was not going to panic. She was panicking! Argh! ‘I need you to think of any venue you know that can hold three hundred people that’s available on the evening of eighteenth December.’
‘Eighteenth December?’ he queried. ‘But isn’t that the date of the Breekers’ Christmas party?’
She nodded as calmly as she could manage. Inside it felt like she was being feasted on by cockroaches, tiny little mouths chewing away at her resolve.
Aaron slapped his face with both hands. ‘Oh Sugar. Honey. Ice Tea. You’ve lost the venue somehow, haven’t you?’
‘Let’s not focus on the negative,’ Isla said, taking her iPad from her bag. ‘Let’s focus on finding an alternative.’
‘But the caterer …’ Aaron exclaimed, eyes aghast. ‘You’ve lost the caterer too. You did get my message, didn’t you?’
‘I did,’ Isla replied.
‘Then, what are we going to do? No food! No venue! This is an actual disaster!’
Isla smiled, flipping her hair and trying to dislodge the parasites intent on gnawing out her insides. ‘I still have a vocal trio and a band – unless the drummer has a present-wrapping accident or the vocalists wear themselves out carol-singing.’
‘How can you be so calm about this?’ Aaron was out of his chair flapping his arms now, head bumping into scores of pompoms, setting them off like a woollen Newton’s Cradle. ‘First Notting Hill and then the Christmas party? What’s next? Is the Queen going to team up with Gary Barlow and produce a Christmas album?’ He stopped himself. ‘Actually, that’s not a disaster, that might do quite well—’
‘Aaron,’ Isla broke in. ‘Focus. Help me find an alternative venue and some catering. Please.’
‘Yes,’ Aaron agreed. ‘Yes, I can do that.’ He smiled then, the lightbulb flashing on in his head almost visible. ‘Does this mean I get to cancel my next Skype call with Hilda?’
‘No,’ Isla replied. ‘Absolutely not.
She took a breath, then her eyes went to the doors of the lift as they opened and Chase, Brooke and Maddie appeared. She hadn’t seen him since he had waltzed Mrs Edwards around Beaumont Square. She had watched from her bedroom window, the two of them dancing and laughing in the dark, under the lights of the Christmas tree, until Chase had escorted the elderly lady back home again. There was so much more to him than met the eye and she was so glad she was getting to discover that.
She smiled and waved a hand and the three of them made a beeline for her desk.
‘So,’ Aaron said, moving into Isla’s circle. ‘Back in the saddle yet?’
Quick as a flash she turned to her friend and smiled. ‘Absolutely,’ she replied. ‘And completely no need for a farrier. Who would have believed it?’ She took a step towards Chase and his girls. ‘Good morning.’
Isla looked so good. Her red hair was a little wild from the weather, she was wearing a knee-length skirt and a sheer blouse you could almost – but not quite – see through. If his children weren’t right here, if he wasn’t in the centre of this office, he would want to take her into the boardroom and re-enact their time on the iCircle. But, for those reasons, and the whole ra
nch of feeling that was weighing down on his shoulders right now, he didn’t know what to do.
‘How do you do, Isla,’ Maddie greeted, putting out a hand and sounding her consonants.
‘Beautiful British diction,’ Isla replied. ‘How do you do.’ She shook Maddie’s hand then looked to Brooke. ‘How do you do, Brooke?’
‘’Sup,’ Brooke answered.
‘Good morning, everyone,’ Aaron chipped in. ‘Take a pompom if you like.’ He jazz-handed the air. ‘Better than a Christmas tree … no annoying pine needles just a few strands of glitter to Dyson up.’
‘Please ignore Aaron,’ Isla said. ‘He’s not had enough coffee this morning.’
‘Hey,’ Chase said. ‘Can we talk?’
‘Of course,’ Isla said. ‘The boardroom?’
‘Sure.’ He turned to his daughters. ‘Can you hang here, just for a half hour or so?’
‘Aaron, can you introduce the girls to whatever games you play when you’re supposed to be working?’ Isla suggested. ‘Not the poker ones.’
‘Ha ha, very amusing.’ He looked to Brooke and Maddie and winked. ‘I only ever play Blackjack.’
Chase led the way, taking a deep breath, unable to look Isla in the eye. He pushed open the boardroom door and moved to the part of the room with obscured glass, so they wouldn’t be looked over like goldfish in a bowl.
He turned around, watching her as she closed the door behind them, all fresh-faced and seemingly as full of joy as he had been after their date together.
‘Come over here,’ he beckoned.
‘Over there?’ she asked quizzically. ‘Right over there?’
‘Right over here,’ he said.
She stepped forward, her stride a little unsettled, until she was directly opposite him, a mere six inches or so apart. He took her in his arms, wrapping her up tight, pulling her close, his head next to hers. But it wasn’t a display of passion, it was a desire to hold her, to comfort her when he said the next words.
He almost couldn’t say it, but he had to. ‘They won’t go back on Notting Hill, and it’s final.’
He held on tight and waited to feel her body react like he knew it would. And it did. Within a second she was poker-straight as if she had been struck by lightning, then she was trembling as the news hit home.
Finally, she spoke. One word: ‘No.’
‘I know,’ Chase said. ‘I know it isn’t at all what we wanted to hear. I can hardly believe it but—’
‘No,’ Isla said again. ‘They can’t.’
‘This decision is out of my hands, Isla. I was outside on the street just now for thirty minutes trying to reason with someone who was up all night with the board going through the plans and making it final.’ He still gripped on to her. ‘They’ve left me completely out of the loop on so many things because I’m not a player to them. I’m just the figurehead they hired to make them look better. I thought I may have some sway, as after all they took on my hotel concept as the future of Breekers, but I guess that’s as far as it goes.’
‘Chase, we can’t let them do this. It just doesn’t make sense.’
‘You know they wanted to make a splash.’
‘I know but Notting Hill, it’s iconic. They can’t tear it down. I really don’t think they’re going to get permission.’ He could hear the tears in her voice. ‘All those houses, all those people and the history.’
‘You know money talks. My bet is they will pledge to make investment in a poorer area as compensation, something to settle the conscience of those who aren’t immediately on board.’
‘Let me go,’ Isla begged, shifting in his arms now, fear, hurt and pain all emanating from her.
‘No,’ he replied.
‘Chase, let me go,’ she ordered.
‘I can’t do that,’ he said. ‘Not yet.’
A sob left her then and he held on, feeling her drop her head to his shoulder as some of the immediate tension finally left her body.
‘So that’s it,’ she sobbed. ‘That’s really it?’
‘No,’ he answered. ‘That isn’t it.’
‘But you said—’
‘They may have made their final decision but while we’re still working the project nothing is set in stone, or concrete. Not for me.’
He loosened his hold, waiting for what he hoped was coming. He wasn’t trying to give her false hope. He just wanted her to know that while he was still here in London he intended to work on finding something to delay the inevitable, maybe long enough for him to come up with some kind of work-around. It was his livelihood, the children’s too, and he would be a fool to think of sabotage, but if there was a compromise, something that didn’t end up costing her the part of London she adored, then he was going to give it his all.
Isla raised her head, slowly but surely, and he saw that spark of interest back in her eyes. ‘What can we do?’
He smiled at her, lightly kissing her lips. ‘I have a plan.’
Seventy-Three
Life Start Community Centre
Today, even though the temperatures had barely got above minus figures, there were three shabbily dressed men outside Hannah’s centre. Sitting on the ground, legs outstretched like it was summer, backs against the wall, taking it in turns to sip from a bottle of vodka.
Isla checked her watch then looked to the door as it began to swing open. And there was Hannah, being helped by Lesley, wheeling through the door, her face painted completely white with silver and gold glitter on her cheeks. Was she really going to be able to tell her about Breekers’ plans for Notting Hill after a Christmas party, when her face was wearing artwork? She swallowed. She had to. The sooner it was all out in the open the sooner they could start thinking about how to stop it.
‘What are you doing here?’ Hannah greeted roughly, her smile dropping as Lesley let go of the wheelchair and, waving a hand at Isla, the woman left.
‘Well, that’s a nice welcome I have to say.’
‘Did you think I wouldn’t get home? I thought we agreed I needed a little more space.’
Isla hadn’t agreed, she had just known that fighting it now Hannah was twenty was too difficult, and she did need to embrace independence.
‘I love the face paint,’ Isla deflected.
Hannah grimaced. ‘We had to put on a stupid nativity for the children from Pembridge Middle. I was the Angel Gabriel but the bloody net curtain I had to use as my angel clothes kept getting caught in Ronnie’s wheels.’
‘Oh dear,’ Isla said, stifling a laugh.
‘It’s not funny! Anyway, why are you here? I was going to wheel past the sorting office and see if Raj was there.’
‘Well, he isn’t there,’ Isla said.
‘What?’
‘He’s meeting us at home,’ Isla said. ‘With Mrs Edwards and Aaron … Chase and Maddie and Brooke.’
She swallowed, watching confusion cover her sister’s face.
‘Are we having a party?’ Hannah queried.
Isla shook her head. ‘No. But we will definitely need some drinks and snacks. We can pick them up on our way.’
‘Isla, what’s going on?’ Hannah asked again.
Yes, she just needed to spit it out. Tell her she had lied about the plans. That Breekers wanted to break up Notting Hill. But there was still hope. She had already considered trying to blackmail Rod Striker to turn down the planning consent, no matter what carrot Breekers dangled in front of him. She was sure there must be someone from the golf club who had something on him. She didn’t do underhand ordinarily but the stakes were so high now and there was so much she wanted to protect.
‘Isla,’ Hannah snapped. The angel paint wasn’t looking quite so angelic now her sister’s expression was pure devil.
‘The plans of Notting Hill you took from Verity and John’s house,’ Isla began. ‘They were real.’ She swallowed, trying to press on quickly. ‘Breekers wants to build a super-hotel, well, a large village with circuses and zoos and a megabowl, and they want to build it
over Notting Hill.’
Isla hadn’t thought, given the nativity make-up, that Hannah could look any paler, but she seemed to blanch and somehow shrink. She needed to keep talking, focus on those positives.
‘But you don’t need to worry,’ Isla stated, reaching out to touch Hannah’s arm. ‘Because it’s not going to happen. We’re going to make sure it doesn’t. That’s why we’re getting together to brainstorm … to think, all of us together, of all the reasons why this can’t happen and how we can stop it.’
Hannah didn’t say anything. She was just looking tiny and vulnerable and not twenty but twelve, or fifteen, like she had been straight after the accident when her world was crumbling.
‘Hannah,’ Isla said. ‘It’s going to be all right.’
Now there was a reaction, as a tear snaked down her sister’s cheek and, as well as looking deflated, she also looked beaten.
‘Hannah, we are going to do everything we can to fight this. I promise.’
‘Oh, you promise do you?’ Hannah growled. ‘Just like you promised the plans weren’t real in the first place?’
Isla had known that was coming and it was well deserved. She shouldn’t have lied but it had only been about protecting Hannah, until now, when the ultimate decision had been made and all she could do now was react to it.
‘I know I did,’ Isla said. ‘And perhaps I shouldn’t have. But I was angry with Chase when I found out about it and I had to get through that before I could prioritise trying to change it. And that’s what we’re planning to do. Because nothing is hopeless. Both of us believe that, don’t we?’
Hannah shook Isla’s hand off. ‘I believed I had a sister who didn’t lie to me.’
‘I’m sorry, Han, I’m really sorry, I just didn’t want you to worry or get upset.’
‘What? Because I’m a pathetic baby? A pathetic baby in a wheelchair?’
‘Don’t be silly.’
‘There we go! Straightaway, “don’t be silly”, like I’m not going to be anything else!’