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Walking into the office, Anna thought about how Liam had annoyed her on two levels the previous evening: one with the whole dividing up their friends, and secondly by the mention of Tabitha. Not the mention of her alone but the fact he had moved on so effortlessly. Anna was a long way from moving on – she was still at the licking her wounds stage, which was why she was sworn off men for the time being. Perhaps men were designed differently? Maybe they were meant to switch to the next available female. It didn’t seem right that she had been so easily replaced. She hoped that said more about him than it did about her or their relationship, but she wasn’t sure. When Liam had dumped her she’d thought her world was caving in but she’d quickly realised her relationship with him had been much like Gruyère cheese – harder than it needed to be and full of holes.
It worried her that she’d not noticed how Gruyère he was before this point. What she needed was something more reliable. Cheddar, perhaps? She wanted something a bit more exciting than Cheddar. Cheshire? Too flaky. Maybe she’d hold out for a nice Brie: soft on the inside with a touch of decadence. But Brie could be smelly and a little crusty. She’d got it! White Stilton with apricots: simple but interesting with an edge of sophistication, which always felt special. How had she got on to cheese? All she’d done was make herself hungry.
When she was a little girl she remembered telling everyone she was going to marry her daddy. Her mother had had to sit her down and explain it really wasn’t an option and she had been quite upset at the time. Her very first life plan had been blown out of the water with one easy strike. She knew she had her parents up on a pedestal; their relationship wasn’t perfect but it was one born out of total love and care for each other and had stood strong for almost thirty years. Perhaps she was searching for a man to love her the way her father adored her mother – but was that so wrong?
Anna knew she had partly ignored the niggles in her relationship with Liam because, at twenty-eight, she was worried about veering off her life plan. But now they’d split up, she was totally off plan and way out of her comfort zone. She hadn’t only lost Liam; she’d lost her wedding day and her beautifully mapped-out future too.
Anna had always been conscientious and focused in every job she’d had since university; she was keen to establish her career before she started a family. She had always expected to have been married with children and well settled by the time she was thirty, based on the fact her parents had married quite young and she’d been born within the year. Her sister had followed shortly afterwards.
Anna’s thoughts were miles away as she pulled her security pass from the side pocket of her bag. It caught on the zip and she stopped to try to free it. Someone appeared, as if from nowhere, at her side.
‘Hi, can I get in this way?’
‘Ooh, you made me jump,’ she said, catching a quick look at the man. ‘You’ll need one of these,’ she said, wrestling her lanyard free, which bungeed the pass card out of her bag and whipped into the face of the stranger.
‘Ow!’ He clutched at his eye. ‘Damn it.’ He couldn’t have sounded more American if he’d tried.
‘I am so sorry,’ said Anna, profusely British and mortified at what she’d done. He staggered a little on the steps, his eyes tight shut. ‘Come over here,’ she said, taking his arm, noting the muscle definition through his jacket sleeve, and guiding him away from the flow of people coming up the steps. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, hoping he was going to say yes.
‘Do I look okay?’ he snapped but at least he opened his good eye to survey his aggressor. He definitely had an American accent.
Anna gave an apologetic smile. ‘I am really very sorry. Shall I take a look?’ She pointed at his eye and he flinched.
‘No, thank you. Can you just tell me how to get inside the building?’ He gave her a look that implied he doubted she had the ability.
‘This is a staff entrance. You need …’ she thought better of showing him her pass again ‘… a staff security pass to get in this door. Shall I show you?’
‘No, I think you’ve done enough.’ His sarcasm wasn’t lost on her.
‘Okay, right, yes.’ You couldn’t help some people. ‘Have a nice day,’ she said, and she waltzed up the steps. There were a few people in front of her. When they shuffled forward she swiped her card and followed them into the revolving door. She glanced over her shoulder. He was still watching her. Perhaps he was trying to get in illegally, although she couldn’t think why. Suddenly the door stopped revolving but Anna carried on, banging her head on the glass. ‘Ow!’ She rubbed her forehead. That’d be a bruise later. The door then proceeded to go in reverse and spat her out into a queue full of tutting people. This happened every so often when your card hadn’t registered properly. Anna apologised to the queue, firmly reswiped her card and gave a quick glance at the American who was smirking broadly with his eyebrows raised in amusement. Great.
She took the stairs to the second floor and scanned the office for any new faces in their area; she was keen to meet the person who she’d be working closely with over the next year. The company operated a hot-desking policy, which was a bone of contention with everyone. A few people had allocated desks for a variety of valid and spurious reasons, leaving the rest of them to fight on a first-come, first-served basis. Anna was in luck as her favourite desk was free. It was a little like an old folks’ home in that they didn’t have their own seat but they all liked to sit in a certain one – and woe betide anyone who sat in a different seat.
She plugged in her laptop and while it fired up she went to get coffees for her, Sophie and their lead designer, Karl. Anna, Sophie and Karl had met when they’d been put on the same special project a few years ago and had quickly bonded over long days, a shared sense of humour and a love of good coffee. When she returned, Sophie and Karl were behaving like a pair of snooping meerkats, both on tiptoes peering over the filing cabinets towards their boss’s office.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Anna, handing out the coffees.
‘Venti, Americano, with hot milk?’ asked Karl, not averting his eyes from his surveillance operation as he took the cup.
‘Yep,’ said Anna, trying to see what they were watching.
‘With an extra shot?’ added Karl.
‘Yes, of course. What’s going on?’
‘And the cute brunette’s phone number?’
‘Y … No!’ Anna gave him her best withering glare and he replied with a wink. Karl was incorrigible; one of the last non-PC people she knew and also the gayest straight man she’d ever encountered.
‘We think Roberta’s meeting with the project manager from West Midlands Insurance,’ said Sophie.
Anna went up on tiptoes herself but it did no good – she was already in very high heels and still too short to be able to see anything. Her mobile trilled into life: it was Roberta.
‘Anna, could you come to my office right away? I’d like you to meet the new PM.’
‘On my way,’ said Anna, but Roberta had already ended the call.
‘Cover me, I’m going in,’ said Anna, picking up her trusty project folder and coffee.
Anna knocked on the glass office door. Office was too grand a term for the small corner sectioned off with boards and a sliding smoked-glass door but Roberta was very proud of it, having battled tooth and manicured false nail to get the ‘office’ she deserved.
‘Come in,’ said Roberta. ‘Ah, Anna. You took your time.’ Anna ignored her. Roberta was an odd sort and it was best not to challenge her. ‘I’d like you to meet Hudson Jones.’ What sort of name was that?
The person sitting with their back to the door stood up and turned around. Anna noticed he was rather tall and slim in his trendy suit, good-looking in an obvious way, and unnervingly familiar. When she saw one of his eyes was swollen it all clicked into place.
‘Hudson, this is Anna Strickland, our lead PM.’
‘You?’ said Hudson, blinking with his good eye, which she noticed was a beautiful shade of blue.
She gave a nervous laugh and extended her hand. ‘Yes, it’s me. Lovely to meet you. Again.’ She gave a little nod with the last word but had no idea why.
‘Oh, you already know each other. That should speed things up. Hudson has some excellent suggestions for project team structure, operational integration and …’ Roberta was checking her notes.
‘Project approach,’ said Hudson, sounding confident.
‘That’s terrific,’ said Anna, thinking the opposite. ‘I’ll walk you through what I already have in place.’ Hudson didn’t look pleased. They had both quickly picked up on the other’s frostiness.
‘Anna will bring you up to speed. I have a very important meeting to go to,’ said Roberta, squeezing her ample form from behind the largest desk the company could provide.
‘I think we’re all in that meeting,’ said Anna, giving her printed calendar a quick check.
‘Then I’ll follow you,’ said Hudson. ‘From a safe distance,’ he added for Anna’s benefit.
Chapter Three (#ulink_a90b43ff-fc06-50f9-89ce-659d855faae9)
It was a day of back-to-back meetings, never her favourite thing and even less so as she’d found herself going head-to-head with Hudson in the last two sessions. He was overconfident – or cocksure, as her grandad would have called it – and so far he had challenged everything Anna had raised. He had a bunch of ideas he seemed to think he could apply without knowing the first thing about their company processes and it was already starting to infuriate her.
She had a long list of things she would need to explain to him when she got the chance. The next meeting was with Karl, so Anna hoped that would offer a little light relief. She headed off to the room she’d booked, which she knew was barely more than a cupboard. When she got there the blind was down and the ‘In Use’ sign was on, so she waited. She was mulling over what to have for tea when she recognised the voices giggling inside as Karl and Sophie. She opened the door expecting to be greeted by friendly faces rather than a shifty duo caught in the act of something they shouldn’t have been doing.
Anna stared at the small table where Karl had two teaspoons and a small pile of white powder. She gazed disbelievingly at the guilty-looking pair and hastily shut the door behind her. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ asked Anna. Sophie stepped forward but erupted into giggles. ‘OhMyGod. Have you taken some of that?’ Anna was beyond shocked. She looked to Karl for an answer. They would all be instantly dismissed if anyone saw this.
‘It’s not what you think,’ said Karl, before joining Sophie in hysterics.
‘For goodness’ sake – shhh. And pull yourselves together,’ snapped Anna, anxiety coursing through her at the thought of being caught in this situation. ‘Get rid of it!’ Anna stabbed a finger at the white powder.
Sophie paused her giggling to sweep the white powder into a plastic cup of what looked like water. The liquid fizzed. Sophie gave it a swirl, lifted it to her lips and to Anna’s horror drank it down. Anna dropped her notebook and papers as her hands flew to her head. Was Sophie trying to get rid of the baby?
‘Whoa. It’s okay,’ said Sophie, seeming to realise Anna’s distress was very real. ‘It’s only paracetamol.’
Anna didn’t believe her. Paracetamol came in tablets not white powder. ‘You’re mainlining paracetamol?’
She glared at Karl. ‘Sophie’s got a headache and I read somewhere it acts quicker if you crush the tablets and take them in lemonade,’ he said.
Sophie was nodding. ‘I had a wicked headache and I don’t like taking anything when I’m pregnant. I thought I’d try a single crushed paracetamol and see if it worked. It’s probably hokum.’
Anna was shaking her head. ‘I thought it was … It looked like … Bloody hell, you scared the life out of me.’
‘Did you think we had a crack den going in here?’ Karl looked amused.
‘No … well, possibly. What on earth was I supposed to think?’
‘This was totally innocent. If you’re after the real crack den, it’s in the stationery cupboard up on the fourth floor,’ he said, with a tap of his nose.
‘You are a pair of idiots. Anyone would have thought the same as me. Now clear away any trace of that stuff,’ said Anna, picking up her things from the floor.
‘Sorry,’ said Sophie. ‘We didn’t mean to freak you out.’
‘We’d have been snorting it through ten-pound notes if we did,’ said Karl, with a chuckle.
‘I hope your headache goes,’ said Anna, as Sophie left the room.
‘Right, Karl, let’s talk Design Architecture,’ said Anna, turning back to him.
Karl narrowed his left eye and pouted. ‘I’m guessing you’ve not spoken to Hudson then?’ Of course Hudson had jumped the gun and spoken to Karl already, without her. Anna felt an involuntary sigh escape. She was feeling less and less guilty about whacking the guy in the eye.
After the day from hell Anna was in need of a strong coffee and a good old moan but what she opted for was a trip to the cat rescue. She didn’t like going home to an empty flat and it was a small stand for something she wanted and Liam had never let her have. And moaning to herself was never any fun, but with a cat at least she’d feel like someone was listening. As she had suspected they had lots of kittens and any one of them would have been perfect. They were all cute and all she had to do was choose one. She liked the one with the black patch over its eye and the one who looked like it was wearing a dinner jacket.
A young couple with two small children were looking at the same litter of black and white splodges. There was only one volunteer who was clearly rushed off her feet and was being continually harassed. Anna moved out of the way and went to peruse the pens at the other end away from the kittens whilst she waited for her turn. Each cage had a jolly write-up of its occupant. A very noisy Burmese called Sasha focused his elongated meow at her until she spoke to him. Anna moved out of Sasha’s field of vision and was watching Bill and Ben, two ginger and white males, who were peering over a sign on their window that said ‘reserved’ when there was a thud behind her. Anna turned around to see an exceptionally large tabby cat with both paws on the glass window of his pen. Clearly happy he’d attracted Anna’s attention, he started to parade up and down in front of the glass with his fluffy tail held high. Anna smiled and went over.
His bio said his name was Maurice and he was nine years old, though when Anna peered closer, he didn’t look like an old cat. The dark, long-haired tabby was now sitting, staring directly at Anna. He seemed to fill most of his pen. Anna didn’t think she’d ever seen a cat that big before that wasn’t in a zoo.
‘Sorry, were you next?’ asked the volunteer.
‘Yes,’ said Anna. ‘Is he really nine?’
‘Maurice? Yes, he is, but there’s plenty of life left in him,’ said the volunteer, reaching to open the pen so Anna could meet the cat.
‘It’s okay. I was really after a kitten.’ Anna felt instantly guilty. She sidled away so Maurice wouldn’t hear, which she knew was a bit crazy.
‘We have plenty of kittens. Let’s fill the form in and you can tell me which one you’d like.’ Anna relaxed and followed the volunteer back to the kitten section. She glanced over her shoulder. The big fluffy cat was watching Anna intently. The volunteer went through the questions but Anna’s mind kept going back to Maurice.
‘Has Maurice been here a long time?’
‘A couple of months. He’s got a lovely nature but very few people want the middle-aged ones. Is your property rented or owned?’
‘It’s owned. Where did he come from?’
The volunteer stopped filling in the form and looked at Anna. ‘It’s a bit sad really. His owner had a fall and had to go into a nursing home and they couldn’t find anyone to take Maurice so he came here. He’s struggled to settle into life at the centre. He’s been used to the same lap to sit on for nine years and a garden to wander around in, so it’s a bit of a shock for him. That’s why he doesn’t interact much.’ She sighed. Back to the form: ‘Any other pets?’
‘Err, no. Poor thing, he seemed quite friendly.’
‘Did he? You should be honoured. He ignores most of us.’ She scribbled her initials at the bottom of the piece of paper. ‘Right, we’ll pop over one evening and do your home check, and then you’ll be able to come and collect your kitten. Which one was it?’
‘It was … um …’ Anna had to think hard as both the kittens she’d liked had slipped from her mind and all that was there was a picture of Maurice. ‘Actually, could I have another look at them please?’
Sophie kissed Arlo’s forehead and smoothed his hair to one side. It was wayward like his father’s. ‘Night, sweetie. Straight to sleep now.’
‘I don’t see why I should when Petal is still up,’ said Arlo, folding his arms indignantly over his Star Wars pyjamas. ‘She’s younger than me!’
Tiredness had claimed most of Sophie’s body and it felt like she was sinking. Sophie sighed and adjusted the grumpy jiggling mass on her hip that was Petal. She’d forgotten how tired she got when she was pregnant. It went beyond the usual levels of yawning and looking forward to bedtime and was more a sensation closer to lapsing unconscious.
‘Sweetie, Petal’s going to bed now too. Night, night.’
‘But it’s not fair!’ he said, his bottom lip starting to quiver.
‘Sweetie, please, Mummy is tired. Please go to sleep.’
‘Everyone in my class stays up late. Why can’t I?’
I can’t have this conversation now, thought Sophie as Petal’s wriggling increased and was now accompanied by whining.
‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Night, night.’ She switched the light out and shut the door.
‘I don’t like the dark!’ shouted Arlo. Sophie closed her eyes, and tears tumbled silently down her cheeks. The clunk of the key in the lock announced that Dave was home.
‘Hiya,’ he called into the hall. Sophie briskly wiped away the tears, sniffed and headed downstairs.
‘Hello, gorgeous,’ said Dave to Petal who reached out for him. ‘You should be in bed by now – it’s late.’
‘Give over, Dave. I’ve not stopped all day so please don’t walk in and start criticising my parenting.’
‘Hey, it wasn’t a criticism. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it for you.’
Sophie huffed. ‘But that’s the thing, you’re not doing it for me. These are your children too!’
‘Blimey, who’s upset you today?’ He headed upstairs with a happily dribbling Petal.
‘You,’ said Sophie, but he was out of earshot. ‘It’s always you.’
When Dave came back downstairs Sophie was plonking dinner on the table.
‘This looks great. I think I’ll have a glass of Merlot with it,’ said Dave, diverting to the wine rack. Sophie glared at him. She needed a glass of red wine far more than he did but she wasn’t allowed one – pregnancy was so unfair.
Dave merrily loaded his fork with spaghetti bolognaise and took a large swig of wine as he read an email on his phone. Sophie sipped her glass of water and stared at him. He’d hardly said anything since they’d sat down to eat aside from imparting that the irritating dry skin patch had returned to his elbow.
‘Dave, I want to go on holiday.’
‘Hmm.’ He eventually pulled his eyes away from his phone. ‘Maybe next year.’
