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‘I don’t like salmon,’ he said.
‘Well it’s what we’re having,’ said Andrew cheerfully, ‘so you better eat up.’
‘I don’t like it,’ repeated Charlie, scowling at his father.
‘Charlie, you eat salmon all the time.’
‘I like it,’ said Ellie brightly.
‘Shut up, squirt,’ snapped Charlie.
‘Charlie, stop this,’ warned Andrew. ‘You’ll scare Auntie Cat away.’ He was trying to keep his voice light but Cat detected a tightness to his tone.
‘Good,’ said Charlie. ‘I don’t want her here. Why can’t you take time off?’
Andrew glanced at his sister, embarrassed. ‘I can’t and Cat doesn’t have to work at the moment so she’s offered to help.’
‘She lost her job because of that stupid footballer and you asked her. She didn’t offer.’
Andrew shifted in his seat. ‘She is doing us all a favour and you are being very rude. I want you to apologise.’
‘No,’ said Charlie, staring defiantly at his father.
‘Charlie, I’m warning you. Apologise or you’ll go to bed.’
Charlie jumped up from his seat and upended his plate, scattering fish, potato and sweetcorn all over the table and floor. ‘Fine!’ he shouted, storming from the room and stomping up the stairs before slamming his bedroom door with some force.
‘Awkward,’ said Ellie, forking sweetcorn into her mouth.
Cat stared at her brother. ‘He’ll be fine. He’s just having a moment,’ reassured Andrew. They could hear Charlie shouting and screaming and throwing things around his room.
‘That’s quite a moment,’ murmured Cat.
‘When’s Mummy coming home?’ asked Ellie, jiggling backwards and forwards on her chair, seemingly oblivious to her brother’s outburst.
Andrew, who was looking up towards the noise, glanced back at his daughter. ‘I don’t know, Ellie,’ he said.
‘I hope it’s soon,’ said Ellie, casting a meaningful look at Cat.
Andrew sighed. ‘I better go and talk to Charlie. Excuse me.’ He disappeared upstairs leaving Cat and Ellie alone.
‘Charlie does that a lot,’ observed Ellie.
‘Does what?’ asked Cat.
‘Shouts and screams.’ She leant forwards and whispered to her aunt, ‘I think he’s got anger issues. That’s what I heard Mummy and Daddy say anyway.’
‘Oh. Right,’ said Cat, unnerved.
‘I don’t really like you,’ observed Ellie.
Cat was almost impressed by her honesty. ‘Well I’m sorry to hear that. I suppose we’re stuck with each other at the moment though.’
Ellie sighed. ‘I suppose we are but hopefully it won’t be for too long.’
Wow, thought Cat, talk about telling it like it is.
Andrew reappeared a moment later. ‘Everything all right down here? My, Ellie, you’ve done well. Would you like some pudding?’
‘Yes please, Daddy,’ replied Ellie angelically. ‘Is Charlie okay?’
Cat could tell that Andrew was choosing his words carefully. ‘He’s very tired so he’s gone to bed. I’m sure he’ll be all right in the morning.’
After Ellie had gone to bed, Andrew poured two glasses of wine and they carried them out into the garden. It was a warm evening, the sun casting a beautiful pale pink colour over the sky. Cat looked at her brother in the fading light. He still looked like her little brother, eyes bright like a puppy, but his youthful exuberance had been replaced by the stresses of life. He looked worn down.
‘Tell me the truth about Charlie,’ she said.
He looked up at the sky and sighed. ‘The truth is I don’t know. We had a few problems with some boys at school but that was ages ago and it all got sorted.’
‘Have you tried talking to him?’ asked Cat.
‘Of course but have you tried talking to a ten-year-old? They’re not exactly chatty, nor are they in the habit of telling you what they’re feeling.’
Cat took a sip of her wine. ‘Ellie told me that she didn’t like me.’
Andrew gave a snorting laugh. ‘She tells it like it is, that one. Reminds me of someone else I know,’ he said, glancing at his sister.
Cat pulled a face. ‘It’s not funny. Basically you’re leaving me with two small people who hate me, one of whom has anger issues.’
‘I thought Cat Nightingale liked a challenge.’
Cat raised her eyebrows. ‘A challenge yes, not an impossible task.’
Andrew looked incredulous. ‘Surely my big sister isn’t giving up?’ he teased.
She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘I’m here, aren’t I?’
He raised his glass. ‘Well I would like to propose a toast to my sister’s inevitable success in the quest to get my children to like her.’
Cat shook her head and tapped her glass against his. ‘As I said, this was your idea and if it all goes pear-shaped, it’s down to you.’
Andrew looked satisfied. ‘It won’t,’ he declared. ‘In fact, I’d go as far as to say that it will be the making of you.’
Cat looked at him askance. ‘Who says I need to be “made”?’
Andrew shrugged. ‘Just that spending time with kids opens up your world a bit.’
‘Are you saying that my world is closed?’ She was irritated but doing her best not to betray it.
He nudged her playfully. ‘Oi, don’t get mardy. I’m merely pointing out that when everything is work, work, work, you can get a bit blinkered.’
‘And I suppose you’re a man of the world just because you have children?’
He laughed. ‘Hey, Lady PR, get down off your high horse. If I’m a man of the world then I’m a very tired one. All I’m saying is that kids make you re-evaluate your life. They force you to see things differently by dint of the fact that they need you.’
Cat sniffed. ‘So I am to be educated about the world by some small needy people.’
‘If you like,’ said Andrew with a grin. ‘We’ll see, won’t we?’
Cat frowned. She had forgotten how infuriating Andrew could be. He thought he knew better than her because he’d managed to reproduce smaller versions of himself. Like so many people with children, he thought he’d found the key to life but Cat knew which world suited her. This was a temporary arrangement – a mere blip in her life before she went back to what she loved best. ‘Yes,’ she said, taking another sip of her wine. ‘We will see.’
Chapter Four (#ulink_7b3e8cdc-b8a4-58bf-88d2-b206a0d9eb44)
Cat woke early the next morning with a renewed sense of purpose. She had a plan and the arrangement with her brother was only temporary. She could handle it. She was Cat Nightingale. She could handle anything. She showered and dressed in her favourite Malene Birger chinos and navy lace-detail T-shirt top from Zara. It was smart without being showy and she felt good in it; it was the perfect look for a wannabe fun auntie. She went downstairs. Ellie was watching cartoons and Charlie was playing on his iPad. So far so calm.
‘Morning!’ she said in a sing-song voice. ‘How are we today?’
‘Daddy’s gone,’ said Ellie sadly, without looking up. Charlie said nothing.
‘Well who’s for breakfast?’ she asked. ‘I’m starving and we’ve got a big day ahead.’ She sensed that she needed to keep them moving. Sitting still and moping was not an option. Fresh air and activity surely had to be the best idea.
‘I’m not hungry,’ said Charlie sullenly.
‘Me neither,’ declared Ellie, bouncing up and down on the sofa.
‘Oh that’s a shame because I think I spied some pancakes and bacon so I’ll just eat them all myself.’
‘Ooh I want pancakes,’ said Ellie. Charlie scowled at his sister with a look that said, ‘Traitor’.
Satisfied that she had one of them onside, Cat made her way to the kitchen. Ellie followed her, spouting a stream of questions. ‘Can I have maple syrup with mine, is there any juice, where are we going today, can I have a biscuit while I’m waiting, will it take long to get there, will there be toilets at the place we’re going to?’
Cat was used to needy clients but not needy six-year-olds and felt her brain start to fizz at this verbal onslaught. She flicked on the kettle, deciding that coffee would definitely help before turning to her niece. ‘Yes, don’t know, up to London, yes, not long and yes.’
Ellie seemed appeased and reached for the biscuit tin. Cat retrieved the bacon and pancakes and set about making breakfast. She felt disproportionately proud as she found the maple syrup and successfully prepared their breakfast without cremating it.
‘It’s ready,’ she called.
‘Ooh goody!’ cried Ellie, hopping into the dining room.
Charlie didn’t appear so Cat went into the lounge. He was still glued to his game. ‘Are you sure you don’t want anything? We’re going out so you should probably eat something.’
He scowled up at her. ‘I don’t want any breakfast and I don’t want to go out. Just leave me alone.’
Cat wasn’t used to being talked to like this and she also wasn’t used to people not doing as they were asked. ‘You need to have some breakfast and then we are going out,’ she said firmly.
They glared at one another for what felt like an age; Cat could see his defiance mirrored in her own. It’s a test, she thought, and I cannot lose. Not on day one. Charlie studied her expression as if trying to read her mind. She saw a hint of recognition flicker across his face – a realisation that he’d picked the wrong battle. It might have been this or a growling hunger that made him throw his iPad to one side and sigh, ‘Fine.’
Cat almost felt like doing a small victory dance as he joined her and Ellie for breakfast. A point to me, she thought. I can do this.
Ellie was tucking into a pancake, two rashers of bacon and a lake of maple syrup. ‘It’s mop as mice as Mummy’s,’ she said through a mouthful of food.
‘I wouldn’t expect it to be,’ said Cat taking a sip of coffee. ‘Now, would you like to know where we’re going today?’
‘Not really,’ muttered Charlie.
‘Is it Disneyland?’ asked Ellie hopefully.
‘No,’ replied Cat, deciding to ignore Charlie and plough on regardless. ‘We’re going on the London Eye.’
‘We’ve already done that with Mum and Dad,’ said Charlie smugly.
Cat had the trump card. ‘Yes but I’ve booked us a VIP capsule.’
‘What’s VIP?’ asked Ellie.
‘Very important person,’ said Charlie with authority. ‘It’s for posh people.’ Cat was good enough at reading humans to glean that he was secretly impressed.
‘Oh. Are we posh then?’ asked Ellie.
‘We can be for today if you like. And then if you’re good, I thought we could go to one of my very favourite restaurants.’
‘I like restaurants. Can I wear my party dress?’ asked Ellie, helping herself to another pancake and pooling more maple syrup on top.
‘If you want to,’ said Cat feeling pleased. Charlie said nothing and Cat took this as a positive sign. She sat back in her chair and reached for her phone. She had just enough time to flick through the day’s news before they needed to leave for the station.
‘We’re not allowed phones or iPads at the table,’ said Charlie, jutting out his chin in defiance.
‘Daddy says that mealtimes are family times,’ reported Ellie with a frown.
‘Sorry,’ said Cat feeling a little indignant. ‘I just need to check in for work.’
‘I thought you weren’t working at the moment,’ said Charlie, narrowing his eyes at her. Another challenge.
‘No, but I still need to keep up with what’s going on. It’s a very important part of my job,’ retorted Cat, irritated that she was allowing her ten-year-old nephew to rile her.
‘But you haven’t got a job,’ said Ellie, looking confused.
Thanks for reminding me, thought Cat.
‘Come on, Ells. Let’s get dressed,’ said Charlie, nudging his sister. He gave his aunt a superior glance as they left the room.
Left alone nursing her coffee, Cat felt a growing sense of dissatisfaction creep over her. Charlie was obviously determined to undermine her at every turn, which was going to make for a very stressful day. She tried to distract herself by reading the day’s news on her phone. Normally she would have found a discussion to join or at least added a sage comment to some big PR story but she felt almost paralysed. Cat had half-expected the world to grind to a halt without her. She knew it was a ridiculous notion but she couldn’t quite believe that Hemingway Media was still functioning in her absence. She flicked to its Twitter page. All was calm, normal and working perfectly well. She was about to tweet to Ava when a call came from upstairs.
‘Auntie Cat! We’ve run out of toothpaste and I can’t find any clean pants,’ cried Ellie.
Cat sighed. How quickly the world had changed from dynamic creativity to clean underwear. Still, she would not be defeated. Today’s project was all about giving the children a day they would never forget and perhaps even persuading them that she really was the perfect aunt.
As Andrew put a near-hysterical Ellie to bed that night and Charlie was confined to his room once again, Cat had to concede that the best-laid plans of mice and men are often prone to a visit from Mr and Mrs Cock-up. She had also realised that her limited knowledge of children’s needs was a bigger issue than she had originally anticipated.
