by Annie Lyons
‘Yes, mind how you go,’ echoed her husband.
‘You too,’ said Cat with a smile. Her parents would have been about the same age as them if they’d lived. She could imagine them being like that, looking after one another, teasing but loving. She felt a jolt of sadness in her heart and distracted herself by jogging down the steps and onto the sand. Apart from the odd seagull, she had the beach to herself and she stared out at the glistening sea for a moment before pulling out her phone and dialling Ava’s number.
‘Sweetie, how are you? I was worried you’d drowned or worse still, eloped.’
‘Morning, Ava. Thought I’d check in with the heady world of PR. How’s things?’
‘Good. Busy as ever but good. The Twitterati are missing you though and so am I. When are you coming back to us?’
‘I’m back on Saturday but I’ve got no idea about my job. I haven’t spoken to Jesse. It’s been good to have a break though.’
‘I’m glad but I take it that means you haven’t heard?’
‘Heard what?’
‘Okay, now don’t freak out but Caroline’s freelancing at Hemingway.’
‘What?’ Cat felt her body tingle with adrenaline. ‘You don’t mean Caroline Henderson?’
‘I’m afraid I do. I know she’s an über-bitch but if it’s any consolation everyone hates her. Apparently, Saffy Bridges has asked not to deal with her. Isn’t that the best?’
Cat sank down onto the pebbles. ‘I can’t believe it. Why would Jesse do something like that?’
‘Hey, sweetie, it’s okay. She probably wangled her way in and I bet it’s only a temporary thing.’
‘She’s after my bloody job!’
‘I know, I know and I’m sorry to be the one to tell you.’
‘Shit, Ava. What am I going to do?’
‘If I were you? I’d numb the pain with a cocktail and then sleep with that Finn guy.’
Cat didn’t laugh. ‘Thanks. That’s really helpful.’
‘Hey, honey, I’m sorry. But seriously, you know how these things go. Nothing lasts for ever. This business is brutal but none of it’s real. Not really. Seriously, you should forget about it. Enjoy the rest of your holiday and worry about it next week.’
Cat sighed. ‘I just don’t know what’s going on any more.’
‘Paradise Rivers got another boob job.’
Cat knew that Ava was trying to cheer her up and she appreciated it. ‘Another one?’
‘I know. They are gargantuan. I mean I know everyone needs a bosom for a pillow but sheesh.’ Cat gave a small low laugh. ‘That’s better. See? None of this is real, not least Miss Rivers’s breasts. Now I gotta go but don’t worry about any of it. Auntie Ava is always here for a cocktail or a reality check.’
‘Okay. I’ll call you next week.’
‘Sure. I’ll take you to lunch. There’s a new place opened up where the truffle ravioli is to die for.’
Cat rang off and held her phone against her forehead. She thought about calling Jesse but wasn’t sure if there was any point. Cat had been happy in a world where work was her life and where she had been too busy to dwell on affairs of the heart. She had loved being needed and valued. If that world was crumbling, what did she really have left? She knew the children needed her at the moment and she had grown to savour this but Melissa would be back soon and where would that leave Cat? Without work to distract her, the loss and the pain, which she had hidden so well, were now floating through her brain again, demanding attention. Cat had thought she could live her life ignoring certain truths but she was beginning to realise that the perfect storm of Charlie and Ellie and Finn Thomas were forcing her to face them.
Cat climbed up off the beach and made her way back to the cottage. She had decided not to mention Ava’s revelation. In truth she wanted to forgot it and enjoy the rest of her holiday. It wasn’t always wise to follow Ava Jackson’s advice but Cat could see that dwelling on something so beyond her control at the moment was pointless. Stuff Jesse and Hemingway. Maybe I’ll start up my own PR agency, she thought as she walked down the path to the cottage. She felt a little brighter at the idea and actually it was quite a good one. She was sure she could entice some clients to come with her and she certainly had the contacts to make it work. That would show Caroline Henderson. She was smiling as she entered the dining room. Ellie and Daisy were intent on their Coco Pops and Charlie was munching toast.
‘Hey, kids, where’s Finn?’
‘Here,’ he said, appearing in the kitchen doorway. ‘Look what I found in the back of one of the cupboards.’ He held up three fishing nets along with buckets and what looked like crab-lines. ‘We just need to get some bacon from the butcher’s on the way to the harbour.’
‘Can we eat the crabs?’ asked Daisy through a mouthful of cereal.
‘No, Dais, we just catch them, put them in a bucket and let them go,’ explained Finn.
‘What’s the point of that?’ quizzed Ellie looking confused.
‘She’s got a point,’ admitted Charlie.
‘The crabs enjoy it,’ said Cat, thinking on her feet. ‘It’s like a game for them.’
‘Oh, okay then,’ said Ellie. ‘Sounds fun.’
It was sort of fun. Cat almost gagged when she had to thread fatty bacon onto the sharp hook and she pricked her finger so many times, she found herself praying that her tetanus was up to date. Daisy was scared of the crabs at first and squealed every time someone caught one. This was not helped by the fact that Charlie took considerable glee in picking them up and waving them at her and only stopped when he received a nip from a particularly feisty crab. Ellie became incredibly competitive, counting the crabs in her bucket and giving them all names.
‘Bernard, will you stop fighting with Doris. She’s only little,’ she cried. ‘I will take away your bacon if you carry on. Cat, tell him.’
Cat had never been asked to scold a crab before but did her best. ‘Stop it, Bernard, you bad crabby.’ Ellie nodded with satisfaction.
‘Bad crabby?’ teased Finn.
‘Shut up or I’ll put one down your trousers,’ retorted Cat.
‘Oh will you?’ replied Finn, picking up a rather large and particularly nippy-looking crab. He waved it at her menacingly.
Cat squealed and took a step backwards. Unfortunately the rocks were slippery and she felt her shoes slide beneath her. Oh great, she thought, another ignominious fall. Then she felt a hand catch her arm and pull her back to standing, grabbing her round the waist at the same time. She looked into Finn’s eyes. He was smiling but not in a teasing way this time. It was kind and protective.
Cat swallowed and stepped away. ‘Thank you,’ she said.
‘Don’t thank me. Thank Derek,’ grinned Finn, holding up the crab who was still in his other hand. The crustacean seemed to wave its legs as if saluting Cat.
‘Thank you, Derek,’ laughed Cat.
Despite protestations from Ellie that she wanted to keep one as a pet, the crabs were eventually released back into their rightful habitat. They carried the buckets into the shallow water and watched with delight as the crabs scuttled sideways into to the water and relative safety of the rocks, ready to be caught by the next round of children.
‘What a life,’ declared Cat as they walked past the fishing huts set back from the harbour. ‘They must spend the whole time getting caught and then set free, caught and set free.’
‘Sounds like a relationship,’ laughed Finn.
Cat regarded him. ‘You’ve been doing it wrong.’
‘Have I?’ he asked staring at her. ‘I just thought I hadn’t met the right crab yet.’
Cat looked away. ‘Anyway, what are we going to do for lunch? All this fishing has made me hungry.’
‘It’s not fishing, Auntie Cat. It’s crabbing,’ said Ellie with a frown.
‘How about getting some prawns and bread from one of the huts and taking them to the beach? I might get some fish for dinner too,’ suggested Finn.
‘Sou
nds great,’ agreed Cat.
There was something very simple and wonderful about sitting outside the beach hut, unwrapping a paper parcel of shell-on prawns and eating them there and then. Cat and Finn showed the children how to peel them. Soon Charlie was holding up the beady-eyed heads and making them talk, much to the delight of Ellie and Daisy. Cat had eaten black cod and Wagyu beef before they were fashionable, she had experienced Heston’s culinary alchemy and Noma’s Scandinavian genius but these experiences were knocked into touch when compared with this moment, eating smoked prawns on a beach in Suffolk. They were quite simply the sweetest and most delicious thing she had ever tasted.
‘We live like kings,’ sighed Charlie, popping another pink morsel of delight into his mouth.
‘And queens,’ corrected Ellie.
‘I’m a princess,’ declared Daisy.
‘What does that make you and me then?’ said Finn to Cat.
‘Oh I think you’re definitely the court jester,’ joked Cat.
Finn gave a small bow. ‘I’ll take that, m’lady. Whereas I think you’re definitely some kind of warrior princess – always ready to do battle if needed but underneath it all – ’
‘I need a wee,’ said Daisy.
Finn grinned at Cat. ‘That’s the end of that conversation then. Come on, Trouble,’ he said offering Daisy his hand. She noticed how people smiled as they saw Finn and Daisy walking along together. It was an endearing sight – the way he made her laugh, their easy companionship and his protective kindness. Cat turned to find Ellie standing in front of her.
‘Can I have a cuddle, please?’
It was the first time Ellie had requested this from her aunt and Cat knew that something in her had changed when she answered without hesitation. ‘Of course.’ The little girl climbed up onto her lap and snuggled into her aunt’s body. Cat wrapped her arms around her niece and inhaled the scent of small child: sweet like the smell of hope. Ellie’s frame seemed to fit so perfectly next to Cat and her warm body was reassuring – confirmation that Cat was needed. She rested her chin on the little girl’s head.
‘This is nice,’ murmured Ellie dreamily.
Cat glanced over at Charlie, who was drawing in his sketch-pad. ‘Are you all right?’ she asked.
He looked up and nodded. ‘I don’t want to go home.’
‘Me neither,’ admitted Cat. ‘But we’ve still got another whole day after this one.’
‘I don’t want to go back to school,’ continued Charlie.
‘Why not?’ asked Cat, sensing that he was starting to open up.
‘You know.’
‘Tell me.’ He stared at her and she could see the conflict behind his eyes: the uncertainty, the fear. ‘You can talk to me and I won’t do anything unless you want me to.’
Charlie put down his drawing pad and stared past her as he spoke. ‘Ben was my best friend when I started in Reception. We used to do everything together. And then Tom started in Year Two. He was friendly to begin with; everyone liked him because he was fun, although he did get into trouble quite a bit. He used to hang out with Ben and me but after a while he decided that he wanted Ben to himself. He started being a bit mean, calling me names and stuff. At first Ben stuck up for me but after a while he started to laugh along and so Tom did it even more. Ben just went along with it and then he told me that Tom was his best friend.’
‘That must have been tough,’ said Cat gently. She felt Ellie’s body grow heavy against her and realised that the little girl had fallen asleep. She pulled her closer, relishing the comforting sensation of life resting in her arms.
‘I got really angry with everyone,’ admitted Charlie, ‘and I got into a lot of trouble. The school had to call Mum and Dad.’
‘Your dad mentioned it. So what happened?’
‘I sat down with Ben and Tom and the Family Worker. It was okay but I didn’t want to be friends with them any more so I made friends with some other boys.’
‘Sounds sensible,’ said Cat. ‘So what’s changed now?’
Charlie sighed. ‘Ben and Tom fell out and I started hanging out with Ben again. It was great to start with.’
‘And then?’
‘Tom found out. Ben and I used to message each other on our iPads and then Tom started to join in. He was friendly to begin with but only to get back in with Ben. Then when they were friends again, he started being mean.’
‘Conniving little shit,’ said Cat without thinking.
‘Cat!’ scolded Charlie but he smiled. Then his face grew serious. ‘I’m scared it’ll all start up again when I get back.’ Cat’s heart went out to him; he suddenly seemed so small and vulnerable.
‘Why haven’t you told your mum and dad about this?’ she asked.
Charlie shrugged. ‘They’re always so busy or tired. I sort of don’t want to bother them.’
‘But they love you, Charlie, and they would want to help you.’
‘I guess.’
‘Listen,’ she said, ‘how about I have a word when we get home? I could talk to your teacher if you like. I know a bit about social media.’
A wave of relief flooded over Charlie’s face. ‘Do you think it would help?’
‘We can only try. But listen, you have to promise not to clam up about all this stuff. People can’t help if you keep things hidden.’
Charlie nodded. ‘Okay. I promise.’
She spotted Finn and Daisy walking back towards them. ‘Did you get lost?’ she asked.
‘No, I bought some extra stuff for dinner plus a newspaper and these.’ He held up a packet of Club biscuits.
‘I haven’t had one of those for about twenty years,’ said Cat, realising that this was becoming the headline of the holiday. ‘Cat Nightingale relives her wasted youth.’
Ellie woke from her snooze, stretching out her arms. ‘Are those biscuits?’ she asked. ‘Can I have one, please?’
Cat laughed. ‘You’re a biscuit bloodhound,’ she said, tickling Ellie around the middle. Ellie giggled and wriggled out of her aunt’s grasp before claiming a biscuit from Finn. The afternoon was spent playing cricket, flying Daisy’s kite, running races – Cat and Finn’s was particularly competitive – and crossword-solving in the hut over tea and biscuits.
When Cat looked back on their Suffolk break, it was this day that she rested upon like a precious jewel of treasured memories. It reminded her of childhood holidays, when days seemed endless and the only task to be completed was fun and enjoyment.
A child had always been a great mystery to her – an alien being to be feared or ignored. Now, she understood a little of what it was to be a parent, she was beginning to comprehend the heart-surging joy that nestled amongst the exhaustion and worry. She was also amazed at what the children had taught her through the way they viewed life: Ellie with her hopeful enthusiasm and Charlie, dear Charlie, just a little boy behind the bravado, his anger masking the fear. Then there was the way in which children rewarded you when you gave them a little of your precious time – the excited giggles during a game on the beach, the jumping-up-and-down glee of flying a kite or the reassuring feel of a child’s hand in yours. Some might dismiss them as simple pleasures; Cat got the feeling that they were the essence of life.
In the early evening, Finn began to cook dinner. Cat sought him out in the hut and offered to help.
‘Do you know how to gut and clean a squid?’ He smiled, laying down a challenge.
Cat took it. ‘No, but I’ll give it a go.’
He showed her how to pull out the sharp inner bone and then peel away the grey mottled outer skin. ‘Surprisingly therapeutic,’ she observed. ‘What’s my reward?’
‘This,’ he replied placing a glass of crisp white wine in front of her. ‘And a plate of Arroz a la Banda.’
‘Very acceptable,’ she said taking a sip of the wine. ‘Where did you learn to cook like this?’
Finn shrugged. ‘I’ve always cooked for Ronnie and Daisy and got bored of tuna pasta bake so I made friends with Ri
ck Stein and Jamie Oliver.’
Cat nodded her approval. ‘And excellent dinner companions they are too.’ She smiled. She finished cleaning the squid and carried it over to where he was topping up a pan of paella rice with stock. ‘Is this okay?’
‘Perfect,’ he said, fixing his eyes on her.
She turned away quickly. ‘I’m going to go and find the kids,’ she said.
‘Tell them dinner’s nearly ready.’
‘I will.’ She walked barefoot onto the beach, feeling the sand cool beneath her feet. Daisy, Ellie and Charlie had found a wooden post and were taking turns to climb up and jump off the top. ‘That looks like fun,’ she said as she approached.
‘You have a go, Cat,’ said Daisy sweetly. ‘You feel like you’re flying.’
‘Okay then,’ replied Cat. She climbed up and stood gingerly on the top. ‘It’s very high,’ she said nervously.
‘Go for it,’ encouraged Charlie.
‘Yeah, go on, Auntie Cat. If I can do it, so can you,’ said Ellie.
She nodded and took a deep breath. One – two – three. She jumped. ‘Geronimo!’ she cried, channelling her inner six-year-old and delighting as her body and soul lifted with happiness. She landed heavily but stood up, relieved to find no bones broken. She turned to see Finn smiling at her. He had found some tea lights and placed them in jam jars around the balcony and on the table outside the hut. It looked magical.
‘Come on, kids.’ She smiled. ‘It’s time for dinner.’
The meal was delicious. Ellie declared the squid to have a ‘funny’ texture but decided that it was ‘good funny’ and asked for more when she’d finished. The mood was light and happy after the sadness of earlier in the week. Cat noted how resilient children were when it came to grief. They could be wailing like banshees one minute and as happy as a bouncy ball the next; they didn’t seem to dwell on things. Cat found it rather refreshing. Deal with it. Move on. She clearly had more in common with children than she’d realised.
She sat back in her chair and picked up her wine glass. She gave a little cough. Everyone looked at her. ‘I would like to propose a toast,’ she said. ‘To the best holiday ever.’