by Nikki Ashton
I smiled at Roman and felt relieved. We’d all been on edge about the amount of work coming in: none of us wanted to lose our jobs. The Palisades was continuing to be a problem: the planning department still hadn’t agreed to his idea of flipping the plan. As for the French conversion project, we still hadn’t heard from Alan Cromwell and Roman had sent him the final costings five days ago.
‘So what did the new planning guy say?’
Roman shrugged. ‘Don’t know. He wasn’t free when I went over.’
‘Hey,’ I said tapping Roman on the shoulder. ‘He’s free now. Quick, go and grab him before someone else does.’
Roman rushed off, leaving me to sip my warm wine while staring at his profile as he chatted away.
Almost two hours later, we were on our way back to the office in his huge shiny black truck. We were silent, because although I’d tried to ask Roman what the planning officer had said, he wasn’t talking. Well, he was, but it was more like one-word grunts.
The tension was intense as Roman punctuated the silence with deep breaths and the occasional sigh.
‘Are you going to tell me what Geoff Williams said, or just stay in a bad mood for the rest of the day?’ I asked, watching the pulse throb in his rigid neck.
‘Nope.’
I hated tension, particularly when there wasn’t really any need for it. Why could the stupid man just not tell me what had been said?
‘Nope what? You’re not going to tell me, or nope you’re not going to be in a silent, bad mood all day?’ I grumbled, staring out of the window.
‘You know something, Summer,’ he growled, ‘try to remember that you’re my PA, and not my wife.’
‘Well, that can be easily rectified,’ I replied. ‘You evidently don’t trust me enough to let me know what’s going on, so I’m kind of superfluous as your PA. If you want my resignation, consider it done.’
The fact that he evidently didn’t trust me, really hurt. I worked hard for him, despite our squabbles and the way that he spoke to me on a regular basis.
Roman let out a long sigh. ‘I do trust you. You’re the best PA I’ve ever had.’
‘I’m the only PA you’ve ever had,’ I retorted. It was true, but I still felt a little thrill of pride.
Roman barked out a laugh and shook his head. ‘That’s true, but I mean it, Summer, you’re great at your job and I do trust you. I’m just really pissed off and thought it better not to speak rather than bite your head off.’
‘Don’t stop the habits of a lifetime.’ I grinned at him, glad that the tension was now broken. ‘So I guess it wasn’t good news.’
Roman shook his head. ‘Nope. Basically he hasn’t had chance to review the case yet.’
We carried on in silence for another few minutes while I watched the shops and houses whizz past in a blur. Then, as we were stopped in traffic, Roman’s phone rang out. I glanced at the Bluetooth display on his dashboard to see it said: ‘Mum’.
‘Hey Mum,’ Roman answered, sounding much breezier and happier than he had done in the last half hour in the truck.
‘Oh Romy, sweetheart, I’m in such a state. Doolittle has gone missing.’
Coughing to hide a giggle, I couldn’t help the smirk as I glued my eyes to the window, concentrating on the street outside to avoid laughing at Roman’s mother calling him ‘Romy’.
‘What do you mean, he’s gone missing?’ Roman sighed. ‘How has he gone missing?’
‘Your dad went to take the rubbish out and he left the door open. Mrs. Robard’s Cockapoo, Cilla, is on heat and the randy little bugger just shot out of here faster than Reverend Sheeran when that brothel was raided last Christmas.’
My head whipped around to Roman, who groaned beside me. Reverend Sheeran married my parents and christened the three of us.
‘Mum, listen, I have someone in the truck with me, can I call you back later? And, to be honest, that rumour is totally unfounded.’
‘You know it isn’t!’ she protested. ‘Your dad’s friend, Mike’s uncle’s cousin, was one of the arresting officers.’
‘Mum, I’m going to call you back when I get to the office.’
Roman took in a deep breath and gripped the wheel tighter.
I, on the other hand, thought his mother sounded hilariously batty. She obviously had no filter, and I loved people like that.
‘No, you will not call me back. I need you to come over and help.’
‘Believe it or not,’ he grumbled. ‘I do have a business to run. I’ve just been to a council shindig, and now need to get back to the office. Summer and I need to get some work done.’
‘Ooh did you say Summer?’
‘Oh fuck,’ Roman groaned under his breath.
Roman now had a pained expression on his face. What was that about? His mum seemed to know my name. My heart started thudding. Had he been talking about me to her?
‘Hi Summer,’ his mum called.
I looked at Roman, who gave me a resigned shake of the head.
‘Hi, Mrs. Hepburn.’
‘Oh it’s …’
‘Mother!’ Roman snapped. ‘Will you please just let me get to the office, and I will call you back.’
I could see from the tension in his jaw, that Roman’s patience was almost at an end, but his mum was evidently the one person he didn’t lose it with.
‘Okay?’ he asked in a coaxing tone.
Mrs. Hepburn sighed, and I was sure she was going to accede to his request, but she didn’t.
‘Roman, I need you to come and help your father look for the damn dog. Please.’
‘Just let me take Summer back first.’ His voice was almost pleading.
It seemed stupid to me to do that. I wasn’t aware of where his parents lived, but with the build-up of traffic, we could still be twenty minutes away from the office.
‘Well, where are you now?’ his mum asked.
‘I can be with you in half an hour,’ Roman replied, being rather economical with the truth.
‘Half an hour! That’s too long, Romy. He could be miles away by then.’
Roman’s resolve finally failed as he looked at me.
‘Do you mind?’
I shook my head. I didn’t mind—far from it. I was now desperate to meet his kooky mother.
‘Okay, I’m about five minutes away. Get Dad to go looking for Doolittle, and you wait at the house until he comes back,’ Roman said as he manoeuvred past a lorry.
‘No, I’ll go, your dad will have to wait here. His ingrown toenail is weeping again.’
Roman sighed heavily and I saw his jaw clench tightly before replying. ‘Well, whatever, but someone wait at the house until I get there.’
‘Thanks, Romy. And hurry, because if anyone can find him, you can.’
‘So, Romy, we’re off to find Doolittle then?’ I sucked in my lips, stemming the laughter that was desperate to break free.
Roman briefly took his eyes off the road and glared at me.
‘Not a word, Summer,’ he growled.
‘I wouldn’t dream of it … Romy.’
When we pulled up in his parents’ driveway, Roman turned off the truck engine and inhaled deeply before turning to me.
‘Summer, I need to warn you about my parents,’ he said, eying me warily. ‘They’re not like normal parents. My mother has weird ideas about things, and my dad is the most uncouth man that you will ever meet.’
I bit down on my lip, trying desperately not to laugh. He really was worried about me going inside the house.
‘No family is perfect,’ I said. ‘My brother is a man-whore, and my sister is an attention-seeking flirt, but I love them both dearly.’
‘No, you really don’t understand. I have no idea how Tiffany and I turned out so normal. I really don’t.’ Roman looked up at the house and then back to me. ‘My mother’s parents were hippies, and my dad was brought up by his two elder brothers without any rules or guidelines whatsoever.’
‘I won’t repeat anything I see or hea
r, if that’s what you’re worried about,’ I said, genuinely meaning it. He was my boss, and this must be the last thing he wants—his employee meeting his weird parents.
‘It’s not that, they’re my parents and I love them, but they’re just … strange,’ he said with a withering frown. ‘Dad will fart, belch, and very possibly pick his nose in front of you, and my mum will treat you as though she’s known you forever. If she starts going on about things of a romantic nature, just ignore her.’
My smile faded, as I realised that he was more worried about his mum thinking we were an item, than being embarrassed about them.
‘I can stay here, if you don’t want her to get any ideas.’
‘Seriously, Summer, it’s not that. I just need you to be prepared and remember that I did try really hard to avoid this. Anyway, if I left you in the car, she’d only come out here and force you into the house.’
Now I was worried. What the hell was I walking into? Maybe I should stay in the truck and lock the doors. But curiosity was killing me; aside from which, Mrs. Hepburn was now on the doorstep waving us in.
‘Oh Romy,’ Roman’s mum cried, as we walked up the drive. ‘I have no idea where the little bugger has gone. He could be miles away by now.’
‘He can’t have got that far.’ Roman kissed his mum’s cheek as he ushered her into the house.
Mrs. Hepburn stopped in the hallway and turned to face me.
‘Hello, Summer. Lovely to meet you, dear.’
I smiled, wondering what Roman’s melodrama had been all about. His mother was a tiny woman with dark blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail, and she had the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen. The only resemblance to Roman was her mouth: they shared the same full, Cupid’s bow lips. She seemed perfectly lovely to me.
‘So,’ she said, taking hold of my hand. ‘Are you Romy’s girl?’
‘She’s my PA, Mother,’ he said, with a deep rumble in his voice. ‘I told you this on the phone.’
‘She might still be your girl,’ she huffed.
Roman’s flaring nostrils told me that that sounded like a fate worse than death as far as he was concerned—and that pinched just a little.
‘No, Summer is merely my PA. Now are we going to look for this dog or not?’
Suddenly Mrs. Hepburn started to giggle. ‘Her name is Summer.’
‘Yes, you knew that,’ he said tightly.
‘I know, but think about it,’ she sighed.
Roman rolled his eyes and pushed her along the hallway. Okay, giggling about my name was a little bit rude, but still perfectly lovely.
We moved through the lounge/diner into the kitchen, and Mrs. Hepburn pushed me onto a chair at the weathered-pine table.
‘Sit here and I’ll make you a cup of tea. Romy, do you want one?’
Roman leaned against the door frame, his arms firmly crossed over his chest. His brows knitted together intently as he watched his mother filled the kettle. Looking around the kitchen and listening to Mrs. Hepburn sing while she made the tea, a deep sense of contentment fell over me. Contentment and a little sadness. After just a few minutes, I really liked her, and I felt sad that after this visit today, I’d probably never see her again. In no way did I feel uncomfortable, and I really wasn’t sure what Roman had been worried about.
‘I thought you were desperate for my help?’ Roman said with more than a hint of exasperation.
‘You’ve got time for a little chat first,’ his mother said, as she turned back to me. ‘So you’re Romy’s PA and your name is Summer. That is so exciting.’
‘Well, it’s okay, but I wouldn’t exactly say it’s an exciting job,’ I explained.
‘No, I mean …’
‘Mum, no!’ Roman barked, and gave her a wide-eyed stare.
I had no idea what was going on, but it was definitely making Roman feel uncomfortable. Whereas I was still feeling amused by it all.
‘Oh Romy, you are such a grump.’
I grinned widely. So it wasn’t just me who found him grumpy.
‘Right, that’s it!’ Roman barked. ‘No more Romy. I am not seven years of age anymore. Now, can we please concentrate on searching for the dog?’
‘He hates it so much,’ Mrs. Hepburn whispered to me with a small giggle. ‘But he’ll always be my Romy, just as Tiffany will always be my Tiffy.’
She smiled widely and plonked herself down on the chair next to mine. Grabbing my hand, she clasped it between both of hers, which were warm and soft, and gazed into my eyes. ‘You’re so pretty. Isn’t she, Romy?’
I knew that I should probably be a little freaked out by all her attention, but she was just a little eccentric, that was all. The discomfort in this situation was all on Roman, and I was waiting in anticipation for him to answer the question. He didn’t. He linked his hands behind his neck and stared up at the ceiling. I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed, because I was, but why would he answer? I was merely his PA.
‘Oh he can be so rude at times,’ Mrs. Hepburn grumbled.
‘I’m busy and need to get back to the office,’ Roman stated. ‘So where’s Dad? I thought he was going to stay here.’
‘I strapped his toe up and he said even with green pus coming out of it, he’d be quicker than me.’
Roman scrubbed a hand down his face and groaned, his uneasiness growing with each sentence that came out of his mother’s mouth. I wanted to tell him to stop being so judgmental of her, but wasn’t sure that would be appreciated. At least I was having fun.
‘Okay. You stay here and Summer and I will go and look for him,’ Roman smiled gently at his mother and gave her shoulder a squeeze.
‘Summer can stay with me.’ Mrs. Hepburn’s eyes twinkled.
‘No!’ Roman’s bark startled us and Mrs. Hepburn actually jumped in her chair. ‘She’s coming with me.’
‘I don’t mind staying,’ I replied, playing with him. He definitely didn’t want me to be around his mother, but I liked her: she was nowhere near as weird as he’d made out.
‘I need you to help me. Come on, let’s get going. Which direction did Dad go in?’
‘Down to the park. Doolittle loves herding the geese, so he thought he might have gone there.’ Mrs. Hepburn looked sad again as she led us out of the house .
‘We’ll go towards the canal, then. Come on, Summer.’
‘Oh, and bring Summer back for tea,’ Mrs. Hepburn cried as we walked down the path to the front of the house. ‘It’s sausages and waffles, your favourite.’
‘See you later, Mum.’ Roman waved a hand over his head and stalked off in the direction of the canal.
After a few minutes of jogging along to keep up with Roman’s long strides, I tugged at his elbow and pulled him up.
‘Can you slow down, please?’
Roman looked at me quizzically. ‘I’m not going fast. It’s you; you’re unfit.’
‘No, I’m not!’ I cried. ‘I’m actually wearing four-inch heels. You try walking at your pace in them.’
‘So why wear such stupid things if you can’t even walk in them?’ he asked, starting to walk off again.
‘I can walk in them perfectly well, thank you. I’m just not very good at running in them,’ I huffed.
‘Okay, I’ll slow to snail pace if that makes you feel better.’ He afforded me a small smile, but it was enough to make my heart jump.
He did indeed slow down as we continued on towards the canal, intermittently calling for Doolittle along the way. By the time we reached our destination, the sun had gone behind the clouds and the temperature had dropped a little. For which I was thankful—after jogging most of the way, I was feeling a little bit hot and sweaty.
‘Shit, he could be miles away,’ Roman groaned as he looked up and down the canal path.
‘I’ll go and ask that guy mooring his boat over there,’ I replied. ‘He may have seen him as he was travelling down.’
‘Good idea. I’ll go this way and ask some of the other people that are moored.’
‘Nothing.’ Roman kicked at a stone in frustration. ‘Mum’s going to freak, she loves that bloody dog.’
‘How about we go back to the house and start ringing around some vets?’ I suggested. ‘Someone may have found him and taken him in.’
‘He’s microchipped, so I’m sure they would have called if they had him, but it’s a good idea.’ Roman looked over at me and smiled. ‘Listen, why don’t you wait here and I’ll run back for the truck and take you back to the office.’
‘No, I want to help,’ I protested. ‘Plus I’m looking forward to sausages and waffles for tea.’
‘Seriously, you want to stay?’
I wasn’t really being serious, expecting Roman to simply laugh and make it clear that I wasn’t staying, but his response almost sounded more like a request more than a question: it felt as though he’d welcome it. Suddenly, I felt nervous, wondering what that might mean, but decided to push it from my stupid brain and take it for what it was: a thank you for helping to look for Doolittle.
‘Yeah, seriously. And I really want to hear your mum call you “Romy” just one more time.’
Roman’s eyes shone as he started to laugh softly. ‘I did warn you. I’m sorry she’s so full on.’
‘I really don’t know what your problem is, she’s lovely.’
Roman groaned. ‘Just beware that at dinner she may say some things that are a bit strange.’
I wondered whether some old family secret would be told that Roman didn’t want me to hear.
‘Is it something that I should be scared about? Are you related to an axe-murderer or something?’
‘If only.’
I inclined my head to the side, studying his face. He looked as though he was actually in pain as he bit at this thumbnail.
‘It can’t be that bad, surely?’ I asked.
‘Okay,’ he breathed out. ‘It might not seem bad to you, but it’s been the bane of my fucking life since I was a kid. I’m only telling you this because I don’t want you to be surprised when she does. And believe me she will make a damn saga out of it.’
