Maria-Therese just stared at her, pretending not to hear. She noticed the other illustrators glancing her way too.
‘Have you been ill?’ Maria-Therese finally said.
‘No, why?’
‘Because you look ill, or I wouldn’t have asked.’
‘Well I feel fine. Thanks for caring.’
God, one meeting without make-up and they thought she was terminal.
Harry strode in, making his usual grandiose entrance. He probably imagined he was Churchill heading up the war effort, not a greeting card salesman whose biggest competition had a pig for a logo.
‘Let’s hear some new ideas, everyone,’ he said.
Sarah shot her hand up. She needed to leave the meeting in a few minutes or she’d be late meeting Robin and Sissy in Cambridge.
Harry scanned the room like he was spoiled for choice. Sarah knew he’d stick to his script even though she was the only one volunteering. Finally, when no one else would meet his eye, he nodded at her.
‘I know the Trekkie idea didn’t work because of copyright issues but I think you’re going to like this one.’ She pulled the drawings from her portfolio case. ‘Hipster wedding cards. What do you think?’
Her illustrations showed couples with piercings, couples with tattoos, and her personal favourite: the groom sporting a nice, bushy beard. She’d got the idea from listening to Catherine talk about one of her clients. She’d imagined this misfit finding the love of his life and getting a beardy tattooed wedding card on his big day.
‘We could do them in loads of combinations of hair and skin colour and beards and tattoos. I really think we can tap into a big market here.’
She sat back to wait for the rejection. What would it be this time? They could take their pick of the excuses they’d used before. The Goth idea was too niche, wheelchair weddings might look exploitative and the London bus theme wouldn’t sell outside the M25. Maybe she should start trying combinations of the ones Harry had dismissed. Over the weekend she’d work on a football-loving–lesbian-mail-order-bride card.
Harry mumbled something.
‘Well, maybe it’s not to everyone’s taste but … What did you say?’
‘I said I like it. I just read an article in the Telegraph about beards. They’re on trend, I think the kids say.’
She’d never heard any kid say on trend ever.
‘Draw me some variations, please, and we’ll see which ones we could take forward. No one else? Okay, thanks, nice work everyone.’
She smiled all the way to the train station. That made a nice change from the way she’d felt lately, after ballsing up at the Bake Off audition. Harry’s approval might not hold a candle to Mary Berry’s, but at least it was something.
At King’s Cross she stood with hundreds of other passengers staring at the departures board, willing her platform to flash up. She felt like a real commuter! The men and women in the crowd didn’t know she was an imposter, not a student returning to her halls or a don on a reverse commute or a businesswoman preparing to meet clients. She was travelling to Cambridge to visit her sister.
It didn’t take long to arrange Sissy’s move once they all went to see the new home together. Sarah felt sick with nerves worrying that it would all be too traumatic for Sissy. So when she started introducing herself to the residents and asking about the dinner options, Sarah could have cried with relief.
It would be a big adjustment but Sissy seemed eager to make it.
Robin and Sarah could have driven up together in their Mum’s beat-up Nissan if it hadn’t been for Sarah’s meeting. The car was a link to happy days and they’d wanted to keep it for Sissy when their mum died. It was bad enough they had to give up the house, which was only rented, and move her away. Hopefully all that upheaval was behind them now.
‘Have fun on the train?’ Robin teased when she got to Sissy’s new room.
‘It was a delightful journey, thanks for asking, Robin. The champagne was a touch warm but they had caviar and the orchestra was top-notch.’
‘In other words, watery tea and stale sandwiches.’
‘Don’t forget the guy playing his music at full volume with only one earbud in.’
‘Too bad. Sissy and I’ve been having a good time, haven’t we?’
Sissy didn’t look away from the wall where she was pinning her artwork.
‘Sissy?’ Sarah said. Sometimes her sister had to be prised out of her own world. ‘Do you like it here so far?’
She didn’t answer.
Sarah shot Robin a look. They didn’t have a choice at this point if Sissy hated it. Soon there’d be no Whispering Sands to go back to. Some developer was probably planning to turn it into luxury flats or something.
She pulled her sister away from the wall to hug her. ‘Sissy? Isn’t it nice being here with Kelly? And Ben is here too.’
Suddenly her face lit up. ‘Yes. And they’re having jelly after lunch.’
Sarah smiled. ‘You like it here then?’
‘It’s good,’ she said, crushing Sarah in another hug before returning to her drawing pins.
‘I’m just going to find Kelly,’ she said to Robin, looking away so he didn’t see the tears of relief pooling in her eyes.
‘I’ll come with you,’ he said.
Sissy’s new home was built in a series of wings off the main building. The outside was nothing remarkable – just red brick from the fifties or sixties – but inside was spacious and light, thanks to the big picture windows. There was a library and a brightly painted learning centre and a huge dining room that doubled as the residents’ disco once a month. She could hear the tock tock tock of a ping-pong ball coming from the games room. The noise floated out on hysterical laughter.
That’s what had depressed her so much about the idea of an elderly care home for Sissy. Yes, they could offer Sissy accommodation but there wasn’t enough activity for a sixteen-year-old. The residents just sat – in their rooms or in the TV room or on chairs lining the corridors. Sitting sitting sitting, but waiting for what?
‘So you’re back to normal then?’ Robin asked as they walked along the corridor.
‘What do you mean?’ But she knew.
He pointed from her purple trainers and faded jeans to the once-black, now-grey zip-up hoodie over her tee shirt. ‘This. You. Where’s the warpaint and the Stepford Wives dress? Just a phase?’
‘Something like that.’
‘I didn’t mind you all fancied up, but this is more you. Face it, Sarah, you’re a slob.’
‘I like to think of it as low-maintenance,’ she said.
They found Kelly talking to one of the other staff. ‘Don’t let us interrupt,’ she said. ‘We just wanted to say hi.’
‘This is Sarah and Robin, Sissy’s family.’ Kelly gestured to the middle-aged black woman she was talking to. ‘This is Grace. She and Sissy have already met.’
Grace wore her hair in greying dreadlocks swirled up in a giant bun. Sarah tried not to stare at such a large volume of hair on such a tiny woman. She shook their hands warmly. ‘Your sister is a welcome addition here. And we’re thrilled to have Kelly and the others from Whispering Sands too.’
Grace smiled at her new colleague. She had the same easy, calm and capable manner as Kelly. In other words, the perfect person to trust with their sister.
‘I just wanted to thank you again for getting Sissy in here,’ Robin said to Kelly. ‘It looks like it’s worked out for everybody.’
‘Yes, thanks to you, Kelly,’ Sarah added. ‘How are you settling in? It must be weird having to get used to a new place.’
Kelly smiled. ‘Probably not as weird as it is for Sissy and the others. As you know, routines are important, so they’ll be eased into things here. Your sister was a little put out that we don’t have a resident kitchen to toast your bread, so maybe the cooks will do it for her in the mornings. We’ll find a way around it, and I’ve had a quick chat with the director about that art programme too, so hopefully we can w
ork something out once she’s settled in. The important thing is that she’s here and she’s being looked after.’
Tears came again to Sarah’s eyes. ‘Thank you,’ she whispered. It’s all right, Mum, she thought, Sissy is safe.
Chapter Forty-Three
Catherine
[email protected] 2.44pm (8 minutes ago)
To: me
I want to talk to you with Richard in person. we will meet after your work.
thank you
Catherine dreaded to think what they wanted from her now. It wasn’t like Magda was around to ask. She hadn’t been in the office for weeks.
When she rang Richard she half expected it to go through to voicemail.
‘Yeess?’ he answered smugly.
‘What’s this meeting about, Richard?’
‘We’ll talk after work. That’s the whole point of having a meeting.’
‘I want to know what it’s about.’
‘Don’t I always show you a good time?’ he said.
‘Hmm, let’s think about that,’ she snapped back. ‘You told me you were getting married over drinks. And that you were selling out half my company. I can’t wait to hear what’s in store this time.’
He just laughed. ‘Trust me, Kate.’
‘Don’t call me Kate.’
Magda levered herself up from the table. ‘You are looking well,’ she said, air-kissing Catherine’s cheeks.
‘So are you,’ Catherine said honestly. She’d hoped that Magda had grown huge, but her white baby-doll top gathered in the right place to show off her boobs. In her skinny jeans and stiletto platform shoes she could be on her way to a club. Except for the bump.
‘How do you walk in those things?’
Magda laughed. ‘Practice.’
‘We’re having champagne,’ Richard said. ‘Will you have a glass?’
Catherine looked at Magda, who said, ‘I am having a sip.’
Richard poured a glass for Catherine. ‘How’ve you been?’ he asked.
So they were doing small talk first. ‘All right. The builders are nearly finished at the house. I don’t even want to think about when we subdivide it into separate flats.’
‘But I thought you loved living with the other two,’ Richard said. ‘Will you use it as a rental property?’
‘No, no, we’ll still live there. But there might be other people to consider one day, so Rachel’s drawn up two sets of plans. The builders are just finishing the first phase, basically to make sure the old electrics don’t burn the place down. They also put in all the walls, electrics and plumbing connections to turn it into separate flats eventually. That way it’s ready to be converted. When the time comes.’
She really had been single for too long if it didn’t even occur to him that she might one day have a partner to think about. She pushed her aggravation aside. ‘What about you? Will you stay in your flat once you have the baby?’
Richard nodded just as Magda said, ‘No. We will need something bigger.’
He took her hand. ‘Darling, I’ve told you, three bedrooms are enough for now. When we have another baby then we’ll worry about having more space.’
‘But where will my sister sleep when she comes to see the baby? Mother will already be in the extra bedroom.’
‘Is your mother coming to live with you once the baby comes?’ Catherine asked. That would be a barrel of laughs for Richard. She’d met Magda’s mother at the wedding. She’d acted like Stalin in stilettos.
‘Of course Mother will live with us,’ said Magda.
Catherine might have her issues with Richard but she’d never wish a live-in mother-in-law on him. ‘Well I suppose that’s handy. She’ll be able to help with the baby.’
‘Oh no, we’ll have a full-time nanny.’
‘What, from birth?’
Magda nodded. ‘She’ll come home from the hospital with us.’
‘Then you might need a bigger house, Richard,’ she murmured.
But he was staring at Magda like she was the most reasonable woman in the world and again it struck Catherine that he really was in love. As long as she didn’t have to live with Magda she could be happy for him.
There was no accounting for love. Or lust, or whatever it was.
She’d started thinking that a lot lately.
After seeing Alis, he would not get out of her head. Whenever she saw someone with a tattoo, she saw him. There he was in the vegetable dishes on menus and the never-used yoga mat she kept behind her bedroom door. He was in the Sunday Times Style magazine when she made fun of the horoscope. Even the adverts for new kitchen cabinets reminded her of him, thanks to his kindness to his feng shui friend. She had to face the facts. She was falling for a man who looked like he had a groundhog napping on his face.
A sudden move by Magda yanked her out of her reverie. ‘Richard?’ Magda said pointedly, staring at him.
He snapped to attention. ‘Yes, so, we wanted to talk to you about something, Kate … Catherine.’
‘I guessed that from your invitation.’
‘In fact I’m glad you mentioned your house, because that’s part of what we wanted to talk to you about.’
She suddenly had the feeling that Magda wanted to get her manicured hands on it. ‘We’re not selling it.’
‘No, no, it’s not that,’ he said. ‘But you must have quite a bit of equity in it now, after the improvements …’ He finished his champagne and poured another glass. ‘The thing is, with Magda’s due date only six weeks away, we thought it was best for her to step away from the business. There’s still a lot to do before the baby comes.’
‘And Magda’s mother,’ Catherine said.
‘Yes, well, and we were wondering how you felt about taking a hundred per cent of the business.’
Did she hear him right? ‘Buy you out?’
‘We would accept reasonable offers,’ Magda said. ‘Considering the improvements to the business over the past six months.’
‘Improvements?’ Catherine sputtered into her sparkling wine. ‘Which improvements were those, exactly?’
Magda stiffened. ‘The reporting system that I created, for example.’
‘I hate to break this to you, Magda, but that was a project I made up just to get you out of my office. We don’t need data to tell me how well our clients are catered for, because we actually talk to them.’
‘I have turned Georgina around,’ she said. ‘She would have fired you if it wasn’t for me.’
Richard was looking very uncomfortable at the shift in conversation. ‘Maybe we can—’
‘Stay out of this, Richard,’ Catherine said. ‘Yes, you turned Georgina around, Magda, but it was wrong to try to use Alis to do it. Georgina is lucky I didn’t remove her from our books for standing him up.’ It was only because she was so contrite that Catherine relented. She’d let her meet Paul and, to everyone’s surprise, the Type A perfectionist had hit it off with the laid-back Aussie.
‘Anyway, we can work out the details if you’re interested in principle,’ Richard said. ‘I thought you could use the house to help you raise the capital … If you’re interested?’
She looked between their tense faces. They weren’t doing this out of the kindness of their hearts. ‘Do you need the money, Richard? Is that it?’
Magda cut in. ‘We do not need the money, Catherine. I will be busy with a much more important project than your business, that is all.’
But she didn’t believe that. Richard had only sold out to his fiancée in the first place because of cash flow problems. He’d admitted as much way back when he first talked to her. And as far as she knew, there’d been no great boom in the economy to top up his bank account since then.
They needed her to buy them out.
Well well well.
‘I am interested, in principle, as long as the price is right.’
‘Make us an offer,’ said Richard.
She should think carefully about her answer, take time to calculate the
best offer she could get. A calm, measured approach was what was needed. It’s how she got where she had so far. Not by being impulsive or letting her heart decide things.
But she didn’t want to be calm or measured. She didn’t want to ignore her heart any more.
For the first time in a decade, she wanted to listen to her gut. ‘I want a twenty per cent discount on what Magda paid for the shares.’
‘No way. The business is worth more now, not less.’
‘If that’s true it’s because of the staff who’ve worked there for years, Richard, not Magda’s contribution.’ Her glare dared Magda to disagree again.
‘We can’t sell at that price.’
‘Then you make me an offer,’ she said.
‘We’re doing this here, now?’
She shrugged. ‘It’s as good a time as any. Look at it this way. You can write off the champagne as a business expense. So?’
‘Give us what I paid,’ Magda said.
Catherine didn’t break eye contact with Richard. ‘You know I’m not going to do that. So?’
‘Five per cent discount,’ he said.
She shook her head.
‘No counter-offer?’
‘No. Go higher.’
‘Seven per cent.’
‘Fifteen.’
‘No way. Eight.’
‘Fifteen.’
‘Catherine, that’s not how you negotiate.’
‘It’s exactly how I’m going to negotiate. Richard, I know you need the money, and I will do a deal with you. If it’s at the right price. So ask yourself what it cost me to have Magda thrust into my business, to have to accommodate her whims for the last six months, to fix the errors in judgement that she’s made.’ She felt a little guilty about that last part, since it was really just one error and spending the evening with Alis hadn’t exactly been a hardship. ‘Where were we? Oh yes, I want a fifteen per cent discount please.’
‘Ten, and that’s my final offer.’
‘Twelve, and that’s mine.’
They stared at each other. Magda knew better than to say anything. She’s probably not a bad person, Catherine thought, if Richard was in love with her. But she didn’t plan to be her friend.
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