There was a pause on the other end of the phone. Rebecca knew what was coming. ‘Sorry to be an absolute pain, but I really need them now. Please, pleeease could you send them straight away? Or are you in the middle of something?’
Rebecca sighed. She could hardly tell Izzy that she was tied up talking to the mother of her husband’s secret daughter. That one needed a face-to-face. ‘You are a complete pain, but I’ll do it. It’s a good job I’m your friend.’
Jack had warned her that starting a company with a friend wasn’t necessarily a good idea. ‘You could run an events company with your eyes closed,’ he’d said to her. The problem was, successful event planning wasn’t just down to organisational skills. Izzy had the vital element that Rebecca didn’t: connections. She’d been born into the world of the Hunter-Woollards and the Jamiesons and all the other wealthy families that they managed events for. If Rebecca went out on her own, how would she pull in the customers she needed? Jack didn’t understand because he was from that world too.
In any case, she and Izzy worked well as a team, playing to their individual strengths. Rebecca did the corporate events and Izzy looked after the private stuff, which was more touchy-feely and frequently involved the handholding of anxious husbands or fickle brides.
It would only take a few minutes to find the brochure PDFs and email them across, anyway. The advantage of an effective digital filing system. Then she could finish her conversation with Cara. ‘I’m just popping upstairs,’ she called through to the kitchen.
But when she got to the upstairs landing, Cara startled her by walking out of the bathroom. When had she come up here? Cara stopped in her tracks when she saw her. ‘Oh. Er, hi. I didn’t hear you come up, sorry. I was…’
She waved in the direction of the bathroom. Her eyes were watery and she was wiping at her nose with the back of her wrist. Why was she looking so guilty? What had she been doing in there that had made her so embarrassed?
7
Cara
The whole of Saturday had crawled by, and Cara had been perched on a stool in the kitchen for the last two hours, watching Sophie draw a house and willing Jack to walk back through the door.
She checked the time on her mobile. There were three more missed calls from Lee. She wanted to tell him to let her place go to someone else but just needed to wait a little longer. Once she’d spoken to Jack properly, she’d know whether to risk losing the flat. Hopefully, she could get him alone. Without Rebecca there.
This whole situation would have been so much easier if Jack was alone. She hadn’t been naive enough to think he’d be single, but married? What had he told her when he’d finished with her? I’m not the settling down type. It had been so sudden, a punch to the guts. That’s why, when she’d realised about the baby, she’d had a good idea what he’d tell her to do.
‘This is the garden.’ Sophie held up her picture. In front of the house was bright green lawn populated with clumps of red and orange, which Cara assumed were flowers.
‘That’s nice. What about a pond with some fish?’
Sophie screwed up her beautiful face. ‘A pond? In the front garden? You don’t have a pond in a front garden.’
It was almost six o’clock. Cara’s stomach began to churn, and it wasn’t from the smell of the casserole that Rebecca had put in the oven. Businesswoman, hostess, chef: was this woman some kind of goddess? It was extremely unlikely that Sophie would eat casserole, but she didn’t tell her that. For now, they needed to be the easiest house guests in the world. Maybe she could bribe Sophie with the offer of sweets tomorrow if she ate some of it.
Rebecca had made conversation over lunch. Asking Cara how she and Jack had met. There was something about the way she’d asked that had made Cara feel as if she was being tested. When she’d said that they’d met in a club, Rebecca had seemed satisfied.
The night she’d met Jack had been one of the best nights of her life. Other than Soph being born, obviously. She’d been living on a mate’s sofa; someone from school. Cara had taken her out for a drink to thank her for putting her up. Not that she could really afford the prices in the club, but with a figure like hers had been, there was usually someone who would buy her a drink.
Anyway, Jack had been out with some friends. They’d looked as if they’d just stepped out of a posh catalogue, and Cara and her mate had got chatting with them. They’d had a fair bit to drink and everyone had had a good time – they were nice blokes. Jack was something extra though. It wasn’t just that he was great-looking and had a lovely voice. He was also kind and gentlemanly; didn’t seem like he was just out for a good time like most of the men she’d met since leaving home. He’d taken her number and asked her out on a proper date. Her mate had really taken the piss out of her the next morning. Kept calling her ‘Lady Cara’. To be honest, she hadn’t thought he’d call. Blokes like that didn’t tend to go out with girls like her. But he did.
Rebecca had been pretty busy in her office all afternoon. Cara could hear her on the phone quite a lot. Laughing and joking with whoever she was speaking to. Because the office door was closed, Cara had managed to bring the suitcase in without Rebecca seeing. She didn’t want her thinking that she was moving all their stuff in. Not yet, anyway. Her mate, and neighbour, Danielle had lent her the car for the whole weekend, so there was no rush.
Rebecca had said that Jack would be home around four. She must have been impatient for his arrival too because Cara heard her come out of her office a fraction of a second after the front door creaked open. As hard as Cara tried, it was impossible to make out the details of their murmured conversation. Moments later, a heavy footfall sounded as if someone was taking the stairs two at a time.
Rebecca appeared in the doorway. ‘I need to leave for my event now. Jack’s just gone upstairs to take a shower. He won’t be long.’
At last. Some time alone. ‘Okay. Thanks.’
Rebecca hovered for a few seconds then seemed to think better of whatever she was going to say. As soon as she’d gone, Cara opened the camera on her phone to check her appearance. The suitcase she’d brought in contained more of her clothes, and she’d changed into a new shirt dress an hour ago. It was important to give this her best shot.
8
Rebecca
Immaculate white tablecloths, cutlery in perfect alignment, floorspace sparkling, clear and empty: this was the best part of the evening. Rebecca checked her clipboard. Pre-drinks scheduled for 7.30 p.m. before a three-course dinner for 200 at 8 p.m. A car was arranged to collect the keynote speaker from his hotel at 7.15 p.m., and he had assured her his speech lasted twenty minutes. Of course, he would think his words about the success of the company would be vitally important and inspiring, but there were 200 guests coming who would just want to get to the free bar and the dance floor. Her job was to keep everyone happy.
‘What time would you like us to bring out the canapés?’
Eric, the head waiter, stood just to her left, and she glanced at him before checking the clipboard. ‘Let’s stick to seven forty-five, but if a lot of people come early, I might ask you to bring them out earlier. We’ll need something in their hands to avoid them necking too much of the Prosecco before dinner.’ See, she could be flexible when she needed to be.