by Jules Wake
‘He had things to do but he’s coming over later to pick up Bill.’
‘I don’t know why you don’t just leave Bill here. Poppy’s so attached to him and now that Ash is at work it would be fairer on the dog.’
‘Don’t put ideas into Poppy’s head, for goodness’ sake.’ I checked anxiously that she was still outside. Sure enough, she and Bill were still entwined.
‘Why not? It would make sense.’
‘Because…’ I pinched my lips together and studied the sunshine dancing on Ava’s unruly curls as she chattered away to herself and Poppy’s absorption in her book as one hand absently stroked Bill’s head. I couldn’t imagine life without the girls. Lovely as he was, Bill would make a poor consolation prize. ‘Because, what happens when Alice comes back? If she baulks at the responsibility of her own daughters, she’s hardly going to want to add a dog into the equation.’
‘You could keep him.’
‘I think Ash is quite fond of him now.’
‘Perhaps you could all share him.’ She ignored my comment.
‘Isn’t that what we’re doing at the moment?’
‘Mmm,’ she said absently, suddenly very busy cracking eggs into a bowl. ‘Can you grease the sandwich tins for me?’
By the time Farquhar arrived, the kitchen was spotless and the table was laid with the Victoria sponge on a cake stand (which I seemed to have acquired) in the centre, along with some rocky-road brownies that Ava was eying hungrily, as usual, and some homemade lavender and vanilla star-shaped biscuits (again, I seemed to have acquired new biscuit cutters). Ash had rolled in five minutes before, his hair still damp from the shower and smelling of expensive, subtle aftershave which left my stomach curling with frustrated longing.
Farquhar clutched a bottle of Veuve Cliquot and a dozen yellow roses and faltered on the doorstep like a schoolboy caught out. With his hurried glance from me to Hilda, I realised that he wasn’t quite sure who should be the recipient of his bounty and which of us was his hostess. Poor man appeared positively torn. I took pity on him and with a discreet tilt of my head indicated Hilda.
‘Mother,’ he said as he handed them over.
She beamed with pleasure. ‘My favourites. Come in.’
Behind her back as she led the way, nursing her bouquet like an actress on opening night, he mouthed, ‘Thank you.’
‘Well hello! Who’s this handsome chap?’ Farquhar made a beeline for Bill, which immediately put him in Poppy’s good graces and broke the ice as she explained how he’d been found.
‘We had a couple of lurchers, don’t you remember, Mother?’ he said as he crouched at Bill’s side, giving the dog a good rub. ‘At the estate. Gertie and Bertie.’
‘Oh gosh, yes, and do you remember when one of the little blighters finished off the roast beef when we’d retired into the drawing room? What a handful they were, but so adorable. So inquisitive. Into everything they were. But lovely calm creatures. That’s why I chose Bill; I knew he would be perfect for you all.’ She encompassed Ash, the girls, and me in her bland smile as she surveyed us.
I pressed my lips together hard and did my best not to catch Ash’s eye, trying not to snort at this blatant but typically Hilda-esque high-handedness.
‘I wanted to call him Hairy Carpet Dog,’ explained Poppy earnestly.
Farquhar let out a proper upper-class guffaw. ‘Priceless, sweetheart. That’s an excellent name.’
‘But they wouldn’t let me,’ said Poppy with a mournful twist to her mouth.
‘That was a bit mean but Bill’s a good solid name. I mean, imagine shouting Hairy Carpet Dog across the field when you want him to come back. It might have embarrassed the poor chap.’
‘I never thought of that.’ Poppy, somewhat mollified, smiled at him. He’d definitely won her approval. ‘Would you like some tea?’
‘Yes. Because we weren’t allowed to have any cake until you came so that it’s still nice. So can you have some Victoria sponge, please, because then I can have some and I haven’t had anything to eat for hours,’ complained Ava. ‘And I’m starving.’
‘Good gracious.’ Farquhar clasped his hands. ‘That won’t do. I’m very sorry. I think we’d better have some cake straight away then.’ He raised mischievous, laughing blue eyes my way, echoing the expression I’d seen so often in his mother’s eyes. ‘My mother does make the best Victoria sponge.’
‘What? Ever ever?’ asked Ava, intrigued by this.
‘Well, I think so.’ Farquhar gave her a very solemn nod. ‘But perhaps you’d better try some and let me know what you think.’
Ava bounded to her feet and darted to the table, pulling out a chair for herself. She needed no second invitation.
Hilda gave an approving nod towards her son, who was gallantly helping Poppy to her feet. Ash was still frowning at him as if trying to puzzle him out. Once Farquhar had escorted Poppy to her chair, he pulled one out for his mother, who, with a regal incline of her head, sat down.
‘The Veuve is chilled if anyone would like a glass,’ said Farquhar.
‘That would be delightful. The flutes are in the cupboard there.’
My eyes widened. I didn’t even know I had any flutes. When I opened the infrequently used cupboard, I found six of Hilda’s Baccarat crystal champagne flutes.
‘Who knew?’ I muttered to myself, removing each one with great care.
The tea party went off far better than I could have ever imagined and at one point, Farquhar even volunteered to come along to the parkrun one Saturday.
‘You could come to the cinema with us on Friday, if you like,’ said Poppy suddenly. ‘Ash is taking us to see Swallows and Amazons at the Regal. He thinks we’ll like it.’
I hid a smirk. Ash had volunteered a couple of weekends ago to take the girls to the recently restored Art Deco independent cinema for the teatime matinee because he really wanted to see it again.
‘Is he now?’ Farquhar smiled. ‘That’s a real shame as it’s one of my favourite books and I particularly like visiting the Regal but unfortunately I have a court date in London that day and I don’t think I’ll be back in time.’
Surprisingly, his old fashioned manners, thoughtful and attentive to every member of the party, made him very good company and although he was a little stuffy, he completely won over the two girls, listening with great attention to everything they had to say. Funnily enough, they blossomed by being treated like little adults. Watching all this, Hilda softened towards him; even Ash – who’d been a little bit suspicious of him at first – unbent when Farquhar started asking him questions about his new job and seemed to know a little about the industry.
‘Can I just say that I had no idea that your mother had brought those glasses here?’ I whispered urgently to Farquhar on the doorstep when he came to leave.
‘My dear, I know that. She was testing me, wanting to see if I was going to make a fuss.’
‘Oh.’
‘Thank you for inviting me today. You have a lovely family… Oh, I quite forgot. Have you heard from your sister?’
‘No. I sent her a message asking her to get in touch and explaining that I don’t have parental responsibility and if she intends to stay any longer I need to apply for a Special Guardianship Order and that I need her consent. She still hasn’t come back to me. And the school’s asked me to see the headteacher.’
‘Have you been?’
‘Not yet. I’m going on Tuesday.’
‘Hmm. Well, here’s my card. If you need anything, call me. And don’t worry. You’re doing a wonderful job with the girls. I honestly would have thought you were their mother. They’re clearly happy and settled with you and that’s what social services will be checking, if they get involved.’
I twisted the card between my fingers. ‘Thank you. That’s very kind of you.’
‘And don’t hesitate to call me. This is my field.’
‘Yes but—’
‘Don’t even think about money. I’m very grateful that you�
�re keeping an eye on my mother. She can be rather difficult. Not everyone… well, the manager at Sunnyside isn’t a fan.’ With a deprecating tug at his mouth he admitted, ‘Unfortunately we’re both a bit headstrong. But she’s definitely mellowed since she met you. In fact, you seem to have given her a new lease of life. I only insisted on her going to Sunnyside because… well, she was going into a decline. After her fall she was very… well… more difficult than usual and despondent too. Although, I realise now that she was a touch depressed and lonely.’ With an apologetic smile, he added. ‘We’ve never got on terrifically well. Fault on both sides. And her terrible taste in men. Her late husband, George, was an out-and-out crook. I caught him selling some of her jewellery.’
‘I think she knew,’ I said, remembering her throwaway line about giving him permission to sell her ring. ‘But he made her happy. It sounds like they had a lot of fun together.’
‘A bit too much fun.’ Farquhar’s mouth pursed. ‘But… she did seem a lot happier with him.’
‘I think she has some regrets about the past,’ I offered. ‘Especially about your childhood.’
‘No point looking back.’ He surprised me. ‘Now I’m an adult at the peak of my career, I have a better understanding. She had work she enjoyed. Not supposed to say anything,’ he tapped his nose in a sitcom way that made me want to laugh, ‘but I think she might have worked for MI6 at one time. Something m’father once said.’
‘Really?’ I said, stifling the urge to giggle.
‘But thank you for today. I’d like to come again, if that would be all right. I think perhaps we all need to sit down and have a bit of heart to heart and sort a few things out. I feel a lot better knowing that she has friends who care and can keep an eye on her.’
‘I don’t want to interfere but I think she would be happier in a home of her own rather than in the nursing home. She’s still very independent.’ I put a hand on his arm as I saw him stiffen. ‘I know that house is far too big for her. But she loves cooking and baking. She likes having nice things around her and I think she’d like a garden of her own. Perhaps we could find a smaller one for her. A bungalow or something?’
He sighed. ‘I appreciate that but at her age she could go downhill so quickly…’ He suddenly frowned. ‘You do know how old she is, don’t you?’
‘No.’
When he told me, I was too stunned to say a word.
Chapter Thirty-One
‘Does anyone have any further questions?’ I glanced around the boardroom. Each seat was filled with a besuited executive all studying my final slide with great attention.
‘Well, I certainly don’t,’ said Alastair Taylor, our managing director. ‘Very detailed and diligent as always, Claire.’
‘Yes, another excellent job,’ added Bob Wilding. That was because I’d insisted on focusing on it and not getting dragged into several other projects.
Both were founding partners and their opinion had previously been very important, with a capital V. I gave them a professional, modest, little smile. I felt strangely indifferent. I’d done the job I was supposed to do to the best of my ability but I hadn’t felt any sense of challenge or excitement.
One by one, everyone from the meeting drifted away and as the last one disappeared through the heavy wooden door, I dropped into one of the leather boardroom seats and rubbed my fingers against my pounding temples.
Karen caught me as I returned to my desk clutching my laptop to my chest. ‘I hear the presentation went extremely well.’ Her eyes twinkled with an unspoken message she was bursting to share. ‘Alastair Taylor wants to see you at half past four this afternoon.’ She finished the sentence with a decided flourish and an extremely unsubtle comedy-moment wink.
‘Half four?’ Ironically my immediate thought wasn’t, what time shall we crack open the prosecco? It went straight to, shit will I get out in time to pick up the girls?
Anxiety twisted in my guts as I weighed things up. I’d have to keep the meeting short and sweet without being too obvious about it and I still had a ton of pressing work to do by the close of business.
‘Yes. I checked your diary; you’re clear all day.’ She nudged me as if trying to unearth my missing enthusiasm.
‘Right.’ I dredged up a smile.
‘You do know what this means.’
‘I think so.’
‘First woman partner,’ she whispered. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘You don’t know that for sure,’ I whispered back, still not taking it all in. I’d been convinced that my unplanned absence and the stigma of stress-related absence would have put the kibosh on any promotion to partner.
A few hours later, I left the office in a state of shock. Alastair Taylor had indeed offered me a partnership, something that I’d been working towards for the last ten years. All those extra hours I put in, all the missed weekends, the late nights… they’d all paid off.
First female partner and youngest in the history of the company.
I still couldn’t quite believe it.
I stared at the screen for ages before I texted Ash from the train with the news, ignoring the little voice at the back of my head asking if this was really what I wanted.
Guess who made partner!!!!!!!
I sat watching the screen of my phone, waiting for his response. Now that he was working again, I knew he’d be pleased for me. A minute later my phone pinged.
And Coffee Girl is back! Well done you. The International Arms Dealer has strong-armed Hilda into babysitting. Dinner. Beech House. Celebration. Xxx
Dinner with Ash, well that definitely was the icing on the cake for the day. I wondered if I could ask Hilda to stay the night and we could finally collect on our rain check.
I rushed from the station, arriving at six thirty-two at the After-school Club. The manager stood at the door, Poppy and Ava beside her, her mouth squished into a disapproving moue as if she’d just sucked the sourest lemon on the planet. In the face of such abject censure, I didn’t dare respond to the ping of a new text message on my phone or even take it out of my pocket to take a quick peek. ‘You’re late, Miss Harrison. I’m afraid we’ll have to fine you.’
Even her fearsome, Miss Trunchbull scowl couldn’t dim my glow. ‘I’m very sorry. I got held up at work.’ I’m going to dinner with Ash!
‘Off you go, girls.’ She ushered them towards me and then made a great show of switching the lights out and setting the alarm as she closed the door behind her.
‘Sorry guys. Mad day.’ I wasn’t sure how impressed either of them would be at my promotion, I shepherded them out into the cooling evening. ‘How was your day?’
‘Rubbish,’ said Poppy. ‘And she has been really horrid, checking her watch all the time, making us wait by the door and saying she had more important things to do and places to be, like it was our fault you were late.’ Her eyes narrowed, accusing and angry.
‘I really am sorry, Poppy. Something happened at work.’ My encouraging come-along smile had no effect; she simply lifted her shoulders in one of her dismissive shrugs.
‘I only got one sausage,’ piped up an aggrieved Ava, ‘and Lucy Chambers got two. It’s not fair.’ Her round cheeks puffed up in indignation. ‘I hate nasty, old After-school Club.’
Boy, they really knew how to bring me down to earth. I raised an eyebrow. Ava didn’t normally complain about After-school Club. ‘No, you don’t. You normally like the tea.’
‘Yes, I do. It’s just me and Lucy Chambers from my class that go. And her mum picks her up at half past five. We have to wait for ever for you to come. We’re always last and mean Mrs Winter goes on about it.’
‘Well she shouldn’t do that.’ The After-school Club’s advertised hours were 3.15 to 6.30pm and I was always there by six thirty. This was the first time I’d actually been late. A whole two minutes late.
‘Well she does,’ snapped Poppy.
The three of us trailed into the house and I unloaded book bags and PE bags onto the table. ‘
Would you like some beans on toast or cheese on toast or a fish finger sandwich?’ I asked, hoping to mollify their crankiness with good, old-fashioned comfort food.
‘Fish fingers, fish fingers!’ cried Ava, throwing herself onto the sofa.
I cocked an eyebrow at Poppy and she gave me a wan smile. God it was hard work being the grown-up all the time and trying to stay upbeat when someone, or two people, had sucked the joy out of your good news.
As I yanked a box of Findus’ finest out of the freezer, I checked my phone.
Sorry, can we take a rain check on tonight? I need to work late. I know you’ll understand. Dinner tomorrow? I’ve cancelled Hilda. Call later x.
The sad thing was that I was relieved. Now I was home and back in the real world of after-school pick-up, homework, and tea, I realised that I was far too knackered to go out. Grabbing the loaf of bread, I cut another two slices. Looks like I’m having fish finger sandwiches too. With a sigh I buttered the bread; at least I could get on with some of my own work once the girls were settled and then, if I put in a couple of hours, I could get to bed at a reasonable hour.
My phone rang at ten past ten. ‘Hey, Ash.’
‘Hey, Claire. Congratulations.’
‘Thanks.’ I pushed my laptop aside and moved over to the sofa, rubbing my tired eyes. ‘Feels like I’ve reached the top of the mountain at last.’ I felt like a Sherpa – one who had carried a very heavy load all the way up the north face of Everest.
‘Must be wonderful. You’ve done really well, Coffee Girl.’
I thought back to the day we’d met. Coffee Girl was from another lifetime. She would have been thrilled with this promotion, probably still out swilling prosecco with her work colleagues, whereas I was rushing to After-school Club and worrying about what being a partner would mean in terms of extra workload and childcare and whether, after everything, it was really what I wanted. I’d got more of a work-life balance back, but the work itself didn’t give me that buzz it once had. When I’d first started I’d been helping businesses get set up and solving problems. Now I was doing reports on the viability of huge projects with faceless executives I rarely met. I wasn’t sure this was what I wanted to do anymore. And what about the girls? Did I want them to be the last children to be collected every night? The children that never had anyone at assembly? The ones that only got two out of ten in spellings or that were falling behind in reading because no one ever read with them?