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‘So how long?’ Cat whispered.
Joe shrugged. ‘I’ll be back for Christmas. Your first at Primrose Terrace. I did – I was going to tell you yesterday.’
‘Ah.’
‘The paper are trialling my cartoon, running it up until Christmas. And then, if they’re happy, it’ll be a regular feature in the New Year. I wanted to get my skills fully up to date, and this course—’
‘You don’t have to explain to me.’
‘But I feel like I do.’ Joe put his hand on her arm, sending a spark through her. ‘After what I said yesterday, and then…this. It was planned, Cat, I have to go and do this. I’m not running away.’
‘I wouldn’t blame you if you were.’
‘Why? Because I made such a big fuck-up?’
‘No – that’s not what I meant,’ Cat said hurriedly. ‘I don’t want it to be awkward between us.’
Joe squeezed her arm. ‘I don’t either. Some space between us will be good.’
‘And it sounds like an amazing opportunity.’
‘It’ll put me at the top of my game.’
‘You’ve always been at the top of your game, Joe. You’re ridiculously good at what you do, your cartoons, your banner.’ She found she was grinning, and he returned the smile, the tension between them lifting. ‘And as well as all that, you’ve helped me so much this year, you’ve always been there. You’re just a really great person.’
‘You’re not so bad yourself,’ he said softly, his blue eyes locking onto hers. ‘And I’m sorry I won’t be here for the next few weeks. But I think now, maybe you don’t need – not that you ever needed someone, but…’ His words trailed off and they both looked away.
‘And the whole Curiosity Kitten thing?’ Cat rushed. ‘I don’t mind, really. I would never stop you realizing your dream, especially not for vanity’s sake, for some silly misunderstanding.’
‘Thank you, that means a lot. I hope you know, now, that I’m not making fun of you.’
Cat looked at the floor.
‘I mean it, Cat. You’ve made your mark on Primrose Terrace, you’ve helped so many people. Your curiosity, your tenacity – this place wouldn’t be the same without you.’
‘Everyone would be left in peace, you mean?’ She gave him a rueful smile.
‘Yeah, maybe. But without you, they wouldn’t have seen their potential. Frankie, the Barkers, Polly and Owen. You spread good vibes, positive thinking. Kind of like a real-life Santa.’ He laughed. ‘I bet you love Christmas, don’t you?’
Cat sighed. ‘I do love Christmas, but…’ She didn’t want to voice her sadness, the fact that this Christmas would see her parents leaving England to go to Canada, how much she would miss them. And here was Joe, doing the same thing. She’d almost got around to the idea of her parents being out of arm’s reach, but she tried to imagine the house without Joe’s presence, and found she had a mental block. How could she enjoy the run up to Christmas without him there?
Her phone rang and, giving Joe an apologetic glance, she answered it.
‘Hello?’
‘Miss Palmer? It’s Mr Cawston, from the council.’
‘Oh.’ Cat crossed her fingers. ‘Yes? H-how did it go?’
‘I’m afraid today’s council meeting has been cancelled. We’ve had some apologies, and there aren’t enough people to make it quorate – to pass decisions.’
‘Oh,’ she said again. ‘Oh, right. So what happens now?’ She made a face at Joe.
‘Your item’s been moved to the next agenda.’
‘When’s that?’
‘The end of the month. I assure you I will let you know the outcome.’
‘OK,’ Cat said warily. ‘There’s been nothing else, has there? Since yesterday afternoon?’ She thought of how Mr Jasper would have reacted to their protest, and knew that, given the opportunity, he wouldn’t leave it alone. ‘No more evidence from the opposition?’
‘I can’t say at this point,’ Mr Cawston said. ‘I will let you know what happens, of course.’
‘But you have to give us a chance to—’ Cat dropped her head, frustrated, as the line went dead.
‘What’s happened?’ Joe asked.
‘No decision on dogs at the cove until the end of the month.’
‘Shit, I’m sorry. But it doesn’t make a win any less likely?’
‘I don’t know,’ Cat admitted. ‘He wouldn’t say if they’d heard any more from Mr Jasper. Crap. What if he’s heard about our protest and gone back to the council? He’s now got another month to strengthen his argument. What if he’s done enough?’
‘He won’t have. Not after what you achieved yesterday.’
‘I’m not so sure.’
‘It’ll be fine,’ Joe said. ‘An early Christmas present.’
‘I’ll want to celebrate – or commiserate – with everyone. You and Polly and Jessica and Elsie.’ She didn’t think bringing Mark’s name into the conversation would be helpful. ‘But you might not be here.’
‘I’m coming back. And we’ll have a great Christmas.’
‘You don’t strike me as the Christmas type,’ Cat said, smiling.
Joe gave her a look of mock horror. ‘How can you say that? You have no idea!’
‘So, what do you love most about Christmas, then?’
‘Eating and drinking too much, silly hats and pointless presents, Christmas films. Not having to do anything except hole up in the warm with the people I care about.’ He held her gaze, and Cat’s stomach did a small, unhelpful somersault. It sounded perfect.
‘What time’s your flight?’ she asked.
‘First thing in the morning. I’m travelling down to Heathrow tonight.’
‘Right.’ Cat nodded. ‘Well, I have to—’ She pointed behind her.
‘Of course. Go, walk dogs, have fun. I’ll see you soon.’
‘Sure,’ Cat said, a lump forming in her throat. ‘You too, Joe. I hope it’s wonderful.’
They stood facing each other, unsure what to do next, and then Cat heard Joe whisper ‘fuck it’and he closed the gap between them, pulling her into his arms. Cat closed her eyes, wrapped her arms round his waist and listened to his heart beating, letting herself indulge, for a few moments, in how good it felt to be so close to him. She was so relieved that she’d come home, that she hadn’t turned up the following day to discover he’d already gone, that they’d been able to have this goodbye.
It was only temporary, Cat told herself as they broke apart, the lump still firmly in her throat. He’d be back in a few weeks, resuming his place on the sofa, ready to have a lazy, indulgent Christmas with them all.
So why did it feel like the bottom had fallen out of her world?
‘I want to do something for Christmas,’ Cat said later as she and Mark sat on the sofa in front of an old horror film.
‘Like what?’ He turned to her, pushed her hair back from her forehead. ‘I thought we could get a turkey and hibernate – take Chips for a long walk, have a quiet day just the three of us.’
Cat shook her head. ‘My parents are going to Canada straight after Christmas, so I have to spend it with them. But I didn’t mean the actual day, I meant the build-up. Something that all of Primrose Terrace can get involved in.’
Mark leaned back and folded his arms. ‘What do you mean? Not another protest?’
‘No, no no. Well, unless we get bad news from the committee. I mean something fun, something Christmassy.’
‘Why?’
‘Why not? Don’t you think this is the best place you’ve ever lived? Everyone here, Jessica, Frankie and her kids, the Barkers, Boris and Charles, they’re all so friendly. Why can’t we do something, you and me, Polly and…and Elsie. I’ll have a think.’ She took a sip of wine and stroked Chips’s soft fur with her bare foot.
‘Christmas is hectic enough without having something else to organize on top of presents and food and family.’
‘Have you got family you want to see?’ Cat asked.
Mark shook his head. ‘Not really.’
‘Your mum and dad?’ Cat realized she knew very little about Mark’s family.
‘We’re not close,’ he said. ‘They live in Spain now, they do their own thing.’
‘Oh, that’s sad. Why’s that?’
‘No real reason. They wanted to go to Spain, I was living my life here. It works fine.’
‘But don’t you want to see them? Spain’s not that far.’ Cat felt a flip of unease at the thought that that could happen with her own parents. What if they loved Canada, decided to make a permanent life for themselves out there? Or – she brushed the thought away, but it returned, stronger, and lodged itself firmly in her head. Oh yes, she heard herself say, I used to know Joe Sinclair, the famous illustrator. He lives in Portland now, does his own thing. Cat took another gulp of wine.
‘I don’t mind,’ Mark said. ‘I have enough to keep me busy here, and I saw them at the beginning of the year. I’d much rather spend this Christmas with you.’ He snuck his arm round her waist, pulled her into him. ‘But just you, not the whole street. I’m sure Jessica will organize some kind of party. I don’t think you need to worry about doing anything else.’
‘Well, I could speak to Jessica, see if we could organize something together. We could involve the dogs – almost everyone here has dogs, and they should be included.’
Mark laughed softly. ‘You’re pretty determined when you want to be.’ He kissed her forehead.
‘Isn’t that why you like me?’ Cat grinned.
‘Partly,’ Mark admitted. ‘There are other reasons too.’ His kisses travelled further down, to her nose, her cheek and then her lips. ‘Lots of other reasons.’
‘Good,’ Cat said, kissing him back and then wriggling out of his reach. ‘Me too. But right now I need pen and paper. I’m definitely organizing something for Primrose Terrace. This is going to be their best Christmas yet.’ She jumped up and, before Mark had time to change her mind, went in search of a notepad.
Chapter 2 (#u80ad3d0a-15b3-5736-b157-91fba5eb49a6)
Two days before Halloween, Cat was walking Jessica’s Westies when her phone rang. It was the day of the rearranged council meeting, and she’d taken Coco, Dior and Valentino on an extra-long walk to distract herself. Mr Cawston had said he would call her as soon as the decision had been made.
Pulling her phone out of her pocket, she sat on a bench at the edge of Fairview Park, the cold immediately seeping through her tunic dress. The Westies stopped at her feet and Dior sat on them, warming her toes through her boots.
‘Hello?’
‘Miss Palmer? It’s Mr Cawston here, from the council.’
‘Hi, Mr Cawston,’ Cat chirped nervously. ‘How are you?’
‘I’m very well, thank you. I’m calling with the outcome of today’s committee meeting.’
Cat closed her eyes. ‘It went ahead, then?’
‘Indeed.’
‘That’s…good. Did Mr Jasper do anything else to make sure the ban was imposed, before…?’
‘Not after your sterling efforts. It really was an effective campaign which, I’m pleased to inform you, has been successful. With the weight of public opinion, our councillors have agreed to continue to allow dogs at the cove.’
Cat opened her eyes, resisted squeaking at Mr Cawston and leant over to stroke the Westies. ‘That is incredible news,’ she said, ‘thank you so much.’
‘No need to thank me – it was all your hard work that won them over.’
‘Wow,’ Cat said, ‘will you be letting everyone know? I can help too, but—’
‘Yes, we’ll get notices out, make sure Fairview residents are aware of the decision. It’s been good working with you, Miss Palmer.’
‘You too, Mr Cawston.’
She waited until he’d hung up, and then she knelt on the concrete and embraced Coco, Valentino and Dior, letting them lick her face and cover her bottle-green coat in their trademark white hairs. ‘You’ve got your beach,’ she said. ‘It’s yours. For ever. What do you think of that, eh?’ She sat on her haunches and, blinking tears out of her eyes, took in the beauty of Fairview Park, the trees, almost bare for the winter, the other dog walkers and their running, playing pets. She really did love living here.
She took the dogs back to Jessica’s house, eager to tell her the good news.
‘It wouldn’t have happened without you,’ Cat said. ‘We wouldn’t have been able to spread the news nearly as far, or get as many signatures. The campaign might have sunk before it had even got going.’
‘I don’t believe that for a moment,’ Jessica said. ‘You’re the driving force behind everything dog-related in Fairview. You’ve come here and worked your magic. You’re incredible, Cat.’
‘Well, I—’ Cat ran her hands down the front of her coat. ‘I’m not sure about that, but I was wondering if I could talk to you about something. I’ve been thinking of doing something Christmassy that can involve everyone on Primrose Terrace, and you’re always so sociable. Mark said he thought you might be organizing a party.’
‘He did, did he?’ Jessica smiled and flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder.
‘If you are – and there’s no pressure, I promise – I was wondering if I could combine it with something? Can we have a proper chat some time?’ Dior was standing with his front paws on Cat’s legs, and she bent and ruffled his ears.
‘Tonight,’ Jessica said, clapping her hands together. ‘Come round here this evening. We can have wine, a few snacks, and a brainstorm – like a Christmas committee. Who else?’
‘What?’
