Maybe this is all for the best, a little voice whispered at the back of her mind. But if that was the case, Cat thought as she headed for the bar, why did she feel so desolate?
Chapter Seven
‘What happened to you on Saturday?’ Sadie demanded, the moment she walked into Smart Cookies on Monday morning. ‘One minute you were there, insisting I talk to Adam, and the next you’d vanished.’
Cat didn’t look up from the gingerbread dough she was rolling out. ‘I did message you. I had a headache and decided to call it a night.’
Sadie pushed her bag into a cupboard and grabbed a Smart Cookies apron. ‘I know you messaged me,’ she said, giving her best friend an impatient look. ‘But you didn’t have a headache when I spoke to you. Did something happen? Did Jaren upset you?’
‘No one upset me,’ Cat said. ‘I got a migraine and went home, end of story.’
‘A migraine?’ Sadie repeated, frowning. ‘How long have you been getting those?’
‘A while,’ Cat said evasively. ‘But I’m fine now. How was your chat with Adam?’
Sadie cleared her throat. ‘Good,’ she said slowly. ‘Unexpectedly emotional, actually. I ended up telling him all about Daniel.’
Now Cat did look up, her face a picture of sympathy. ‘Oh, Sadie. What did he say? Anything useful?’
A shiver of embarrassment crawled over Sadie as she remembered the way she had sobbed in front of him. ‘He said some really nice things – told me he thought I was a good mum and reassured me that Lissy seems happy.’ She paused. ‘And he asked me whether I still love Daniel.’
Cat lowered the rolling pin to study Sadie. ‘And?’
‘And I told him I don’t know. Which is the truth.’
‘Is it?’ Cat said, giving her a penetrating stare. ‘Because I’ve got to be honest, Sadie – I see the way you look at Adam, and I see the way you look at Daniel, and I know who my money is on.’
‘Cat!’ Sadie ground out, glancing towards the stairs that led to the shop to see if Clare or Delilah might overhear. ‘I told you to stop trying to force me and Adam together.’
‘Sorry,’ Cat said, looking entirely unrepentant. ‘I’m just telling you how I see it. However you feel about Adam, you definitely don’t love Daniel.’
Sadie busied herself at the sink, scrubbing her hands longer than she needed to so that she wouldn’t have to meet Cat’s knowing gaze. Deep down, Sadie knew her friend was right. But it wasn’t as simple as just knowing.
She turned back. ‘What about Jaren? When are you going to speak to him?’
Instantly, Cat’s eyes dropped to the gingerbread dough she was shaping. ‘I don’t know. Later, maybe.’
‘But you’ve decided what you’re going to do?’
Cat nodded. ‘Yes, I think I have.’
Now it was Sadie’s turn to stare. ‘And?’
‘I’ll tell you once I’ve spoken to Jaren,’ Cat said, with an air of finality that told Sadie the subject was very firmly closed. ‘Now, it’s less than a week to Andrew and Earl’s wedding and we’ve still got fifty shops to finish. Do you think it might be time for less talking and more icing?’
Sadie blinked and pulled off a mock salute. ‘Yes, chef.’
*
It was late afternoon by the time Cat walked through the door of Let’s Go Dutch. Jaren was nowhere to be seen, however, and she was just about to leave when Meik, the restaurant’s head chef, appeared, clearly having finished his shift.
‘Looking for the boss?’ he asked when he spotted her. ‘He’s out the back. You can go through if you want.’
‘Thanks,’ Cat called and headed for the door that led to the kitchen. She knew the way well, having spent weeks baking there in the early mornings after Smart Cookies had been decimated by a flash flood. The kitchen wasn’t empty now, however; it was dotted with white-clad chefs, clearing up after the lunch service and completing the last few orders. Cat hovered in the doorway for a moment, then stepped inside.
Jaren was peering into the walk-in fridge, a clipboard and pen in his hand.
‘This is a lovely surprise,’ he said, beaming at her. ‘Just give me a second to finish this stock check and I’m all yours.’
Cat glanced around for a spot that was out of the way of the other kitchen staff, ignoring the sudden rush of butterflies the sight of him had caused, and managed to summon up the ghost of a smile. ‘No rush.’
‘And that’s twenty-four avocados, right?’ he called into the fridge.
Listening to the muffled response, he scribbled something on his clipboard. Cat used the time to gaze around her, making professional mental notes as she did so. It was sparkling clean, she observed; each staff member seemed to be meticulous about cleaning up as they worked. And the communication was good – calm and clear. Everyone knew what they were doing and got on with it. She watched as a burst of flame erupted from an expertly wielded frying pan and took a deep breath of the rich, sizzling air that resulted. It was a well-run kitchen but then she hadn’t really expected anything else.
‘Done,’ Jaren announced in satisfaction. ‘Now, what can I do for you? Is this business or pleasure?’
His eyes twinkled as he spoke and Cat had to forcibly remind herself why she was there. ‘Strictly business, I’m afraid.’
‘Ah,’ Jaren said, flashing her a quizzical look. ‘In that case, shall we head to the office?’
He led her out of the kitchen and along the cool corridor. Once they were seated in the office, he studied her curiously. ‘So, business then. What’s up?’
Cat hesitated, marshalling her thoughts. They’d been so clear when she was in the basement at Smart Cookies: lay out Robert’s proposal, establish whether Jaren was interested in working together professionally and leave. But now that she was next to Jaren, all her preparation had flown out of her head. ‘I’ve – erm – got a proposition for you.’
Jaren raised his eyebrows. ‘I like it already.’
Cat shook her head, flustered. ‘A business proposition. As you know, I had a visit from Robert de Beauvoir last week. He’s looking to relaunch La Clé d’Argent as Chester’s top restaurant and he’s asked me to oversee the project.’
Jaren’s face lit up. ‘But that’s amazing. I think you’d be brilliant at it.’
‘I don’t,’ Cat said bluntly. ‘I’m not experienced enough, for one thing. But Robert said I could work with someone else, put together a team of experienced professionals. He suggested I ask you to be my partner.’
He stroked his chin, pretending to think. ‘Let’s see – I get to spend time with one of my favourite people, designing a dream restaurant, and – I assume – get paid handsomely for doing it?’
Cat nodded uncomfortably. ‘Yes, but—’
‘I’m in,’ Jaren went on, grinning. ‘We already know what a great team we make. Hey, we can have cookery evenings – try out new recipes on each other. It’ll be fun!’
He looked so enthusiastic that Cat had to steel herself to say the words she knew needed to be said. ‘There’s just one thing,’ she said, and swallowed hard. ‘I think we’d have to keep things professional between us.’
‘What do you mean?’ he said, his enthusiasm dimming a little.
‘Between us,’ she went on, remembering Seb’s certainty when he’d told her Jaren still loved Elin. ‘It’s going to be a difficult enough task to pull off as it is, without complicating things with . . . personal relationships.’
The light in his eyes faded. ‘Oh.’
‘So no cooking evenings,’ she ploughed on, forcing herself to ignore the dawning hurt on his face. ‘Nothing that might compromise our working relationship. Strictly business.’
Jaren gazed at her without speaking for a moment. ‘I see,’ he said softly. ‘Well, if that’s what you want, Cat.’
She felt her heart crack a little as she returned his gaze. ‘It’s how it has to be.’
Again, he was silent. ‘And if I turn the opportunity down, can we be more than
friends?’ he asked eventually.
A picture of Elin seared itself across Cat’s brain. ‘I don’t think so, no. I’m going to be so busy that it wouldn’t be fair on you – on either of us. I’m sorry.’
‘So it’s work together or nothing,’ he murmured, almost to himself.
‘Obviously, we can still be friends,’ Cat said, clamping her lips shut on the sudden wild temptation to declare she didn’t mean it.
Jaren shook his head and held out a hand. ‘Business partners it is, then.’
Cat took it, hoping she didn’t look as forlorn as she felt. ‘Here’s to working together.’
‘Absolutely,’ he said, his expression unreadable. ‘Here’s to us.’
*
The following few days were even more of a blur than usual for Sadie. Her kitchen was a sea of miniature shops as she worked on the last of the wedding favours, and when she wasn’t icing biscuits, she was working on the secret wedding gift she and Cat had devised, which was being stored in Cat’s spare room. In between work and ferrying Lissy around, she hadn’t seen much of Daniel; he was still spending the nights at his own house and had been sporadic with messages and phone calls. It was a situation she was going to have to deal with sooner or later, she knew, especially since Lissy was questioning her father’s absence more and more, but it would have to keep at least until her evenings were not consumed by fifty shades of icing.
By Wednesday, she was beginning to feel as though she could breathe. The miniature Castle Court shops were individually wrapped in their cellophane bags and the secret project was almost complete, although she had no idea how they were going to transport it to the wedding in one piece and without anyone seeing it. Everything seemed to be coming together. So when Sadie’s phone rang and the number of Daniel’s office flashed up, she took a deep breath and answered.
‘Hello, Daniel,’ she said coolly, giving Clare an apologetic look as she stepped outside into the Court. ‘Good to hear from you.’
There was a brief pause and then a female voice tumbled out of the handset. ‘It’s not Daniel. It’s Elizabeth.’
‘Oh,’ Sadie said, frowning. ‘Hi Elizabeth, is everything okay?’
‘Not really, no.’
Sadie felt her forehead crease even further. The other woman sounded upset. ‘What’s wrong?’
Elizabeth let out a deep sigh. ‘I don’t know if I should be telling you this,’ she said, her voice fluttering with anxiety. ‘But you seemed so nice when I met you and there’s that lovely little girl of yours to consider and – well – I don’t think I could live with myself if I kept quiet.’
An ominous sense of foreboding settled over Sadie. ‘Kept quiet about what?’
Silence. ‘It’s Daniel, Sadie. He’s having an affair.’
The pit of Sadie’s stomach plummeted. She clutched at the doorpost for support. ‘What?’
‘I know, it’s hard to believe – he seems so devoted to you. But there was some discrepancy over the hotel bill for his business trip last week so I called the hotel to ask for a copy.’ Elizabeth sounded wretched. ‘And there was two of everything – two meals at dinner, two bottles of champagne, two breakfasts in bed. Even then, I thought there’d been some mistake so I rang them. And they confirmed that there were two guests in that room – a man and a woman. Mr and Mrs Smart. They said they were regulars.’
Sadie felt the world around her spin as the words sank in. All this time Daniel had been pressuring her to move in – his suggestion that they try for another baby – and he’d been having an affair. Another affair.
‘I’m really sorry, Sadie,’ Elizabeth said, and she sounded it. ‘I wish I’d been able to tell you face-to-face but I thought you needed to know sooner rather than later. I’d want to, if it was me.’
‘Thank you,’ Sadie heard herself say. ‘I appreciate that. Thanks for letting me know.’
‘I’ve requested a transfer,’ Elizabeth went on. ‘I’ve told the senior partners that I won’t work for anyone I can’t respect, so I probably won’t see you again. But I wanted to wish you good luck, anyway. And give Lissy a high-five from me.’
She rang off, leaving Sadie staring into Castle Court.
‘Sadie?’ Clare’s voice floated out of the Smart Cookies door. ‘Is everything all right?’
‘No,’ Sadie said, feeling her face start to crumple. ‘No, it isn’t.’
*
Sadie sat on the sofa in Daniel’s living room, waiting to hear his key turn in the lock. She’d collected Lissy from the childminder as normal and driven her back into Chester for a cooking lesson with Auntie Cat.
Cat had hugged her fiercely as she left. ‘Good luck. And if you need help to bury the body, give me a call.’
Sadie had gone through every piece of paperwork in Daniel’s study; every receipt, invoice and delivery note until finally she found a thin cardboard wallet tucked inside a box file labelled ‘Work Expenses’. And inside the wallet was a trail of hotel bills going back six months, beside florists and jewellery receipts and a handwritten thank you that was signed Emma.
It was funny, Sadie thought as she stared at the name, she’d expected anger but instead she felt numb. Numb, with a curious sense of relief that the niggling doubts she’d put down to paranoia were now vindicated. She’d been right to suspect Daniel. She’d been right to hold back.
She saw from his face when he walked into the room that he knew. He lowered his briefcase to the floor with a heavy thud. ‘Sadie, I can explain.’
‘I’m sure you can,’ she said, surprised by the evenness of her tone. ‘I expect you’ve got a long, complicated story of how you didn’t want to have an affair, I drove you to it. It probably all comes down to how busy I’ve been – I neglected you, much the same way that you accused me of neglecting our daughter. Is that it, Daniel? Is it because you couldn’t stand the fact that I didn’t put you first this time round?’
His shoulders slumped. ‘Partly. But you’ve got to believe me, I didn’t mean for this to happen. Emma wouldn’t leave me alone, she made my life hell until I gave her what she wanted.’ He threw Sadie a pleading look. ‘It’s been eating me up inside. I’m almost glad you know so that we can talk and sort this whole mess out.’
Sadie couldn’t help it; she gaped at him. ‘You think we can sort this out?’
Daniel hurried across the room to kneel at her feet. ‘Of course we can. Look, I know you think you hate me right now but we need each other. You can’t cope without me and I – I don’t want to be a Sunday father.’
Sadie felt the slow burn of anger at last. ‘I can’t cope without you? That’s a joke. I can’t cope with you, Daniel – you make everything ten times harder. And the only way you’ll be a Sunday father is if you choose to be. I won’t stop you from seeing Lissy.’
His expression set as he looked at her, as though the realisation that he wasn’t going to be able to talk her round was dawning at last. ‘That’s assuming you have custody of her. I’m not convinced you’re a fit and proper parent, Sadie. Imagine if I went to court and told them how you lost her, or how you send her to school in ill-fitting clothes and spend all your time working. Imagine how a judge might view that.’
And now Sadie’s anger burst into incandescence. ‘You’re not going to fight me for custody, Daniel,’ she said, each word ringing with ice-cold fury. ‘Because if you do, I’ll tell the senior partners at your work just how long you’ve been fiddling your expenses and charging your sordid little nights away to the law firm. I imagine they’ll take a pretty dim view of that, don’t you?’
The last vestiges of colour drained from his face. ‘You wouldn’t.’
She held up the cardboard folder. ‘I would. And please don’t think I need you financially. Smart Cookies is doing well enough that I can support Lissy all on my own now.’
Getting to her feet, she stared down at him. ‘I feel sorry for you, Daniel. You had everything you claimed you wanted and it still wasn’t enough.’
‘Sa
die, wait—’
She ignored him and strode to the door. ‘I’ll let you know when you can see Lissy. Until then, don’t contact me.’
The sense of fevered euphoria lasted all the way back to Chester. It carried her from the underground car park beneath Cat’s apartment building and up the stairs to her penthouse flat. And it lasted until she saw Lissy curled up asleep on the sofa. Only then did Sadie’s strength fail her.
‘Oh Cat,’ she wailed, turning into her best friend’s waiting arms. ‘What am I going to do?’
Chapter Eight
The day of the wedding dawned clear and bright.
Castle Court was closed. The alleyway that led into the courtyard was decked with ribbons and bunting and neon pink hearts, and posters on elegant silver stands stood on either side, proclaiming what was happening within.
In the middle of the Court itself, a pergola had been built around the oak tree. Its beams criss-crossed in a lattice, around which thousands of fairy lights had been twisted. And inside that was a small raised dais, where Andrew and Earl would exchange their vows. The effect would be magical when darkness fell, Cat thought as she stood in the doorway of Smart Cookies at ten o’clock and surveyed the rows and rows of ribbon-trimmed seats, just waiting to be filled with the grooms’ family and friends. It looked pretty amazing now.
Delilah appeared at her elbow, carrying a steaming cup of tea. ‘You look like you need this.’
‘Thanks,’ Cat said, taking it gratefully. ‘I hope it’s strong – I need the caffeine.’
Delilah smiled. ‘Rough night, was it?’
Cat grimaced; rough didn’t begin to describe it. Sadie and Lissy had stayed with her, to avoid any potential traffic disasters in the morning. At least, that’s what Sadie said but Cat secretly suspected she was finding Daniel’s permanent absence from the cottage harder to bear than she’d expected. On Thursday morning, a locksmith had been summoned to change the locks and while he worked, Cat and Sadie had removed every trace of Daniel from the house. They’d deposited the bulging black binliners in Daniel’s hallway, after which Cat had taken a quiet satisfaction in watching Sadie post his house keys back through the letterbox.
Starry Skies at Castle Court Page 7
