Panic flared in her chest. She crouched and stroked the dog behind the ears. ‘Shhhhh,’ she whispered. Valentino was panting slightly, dancing backwards and forwards, happy to have found his friend. ‘Stay here,’ Cat said, pointing her finger at the carpet. Valentino sat down. ‘Good dog.’
Slowly, so slowly, she stood and took another step towards the study. Something bumped against her leg. It was Coco, trotting beside her, and as soon as Valentino saw his brother he disobeyed Cat’s instructions and came to join them. Cat repeated the process, stroking, praising, and telling them both to sit. She scrutinized the corridor, but there was no sign of Dior. ‘Stay here, puppies,’ she whispered. The dogs looked up at her, clearly thinking it was part of a game. Cat would have to find a treat for them; she wondered if they liked horseradish.
She took the last two steps towards the door, silently thanking Jessica for her thick, sound-absorbing carpets. She peered through the gap.
Jessica and Mark were sitting side by side on a low cream sofa, bending forwards, looking at a folder that was open on the table. Mark’s elbows were on his knees, his face a mask of concentration.
Cat couldn’t hear what Jessica was saying, but they weren’t snuggled together, shoulders and knees not pressed close. Their body language didn’t scream Secret Tryst. And if they were a couple, if they spent their days locked in each other’s embrace, why pick the middle of a party to look over documents? It wasn’t conclusive, but Cat felt her anxiety lift, her shoulders unknot. She wasn’t stepping on Jessica’s toes. She could allow herself to be attracted to Mark and maybe, maybe pluck up the courage to do something about it. But not now. Now she was going to…
‘Valentino!’ Jessica said. ‘What are you doing in here, darling? Do you need to go outside?’
Cat inhaled and stepped back just as the door swung open. Coco raced into the study to greet his owner, and Mark and Jessica looked up at the same time. Cat was frozen in the doorway, unable to move even when Dior, following in the footsteps of the other two Westies, sat on her feet and started yelping.
Look who I’ve found, he seemed to say. Aren’t I a clever dog?
Chapter 6
‘Darling Cat,’ Jessica said, ‘what are you doing? Is anything wrong?’ She half stood, but it was Mark who was up and in front of her in a second.
‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘You look terrified.’ He put his hand softly on her bare arm and a shiver snaked up it, her attraction towards him winning over the terror of the situation.
‘I-I’m fine,’ Cat stammered. ‘Dior was whining, he seemed upset so I – I was looking for you, Jessica. I’m so sorry to intrude.’ Dior chose that moment to be an unreliable sidekick by rolling onto his back, legs in the air, waiting for his tummy to be tickled.
‘Oh, they get like that, don’t you, poppets?’ Jessica rubbed noses with Valentino, holding his front paws in her hands. ‘I don’t think there’s anything to worry about, he was probably just after attention.’
Cat nodded, aware that Mark was still looking at her, still touching her. ‘Oh, t-that’s fine then,’ she said. ‘I’ll be off.’ She turned to go, but he squeezed her arm.
‘Why don’t you come in? Jessica was helping me out with a few contacts.’
‘Really?’ Cat hoped she sounded interested – all she could hear was the hammering of her heart.
‘An author friend’s having his book adapted for the small screen,’ Jessica said, sliding back onto the sofa and crossing one leg over the other. ‘It’s still very hush hush, but it’s quite exciting. Mark’s looking for a producer for his latest screenplay, so I was passing on some contacts.’
‘You’re a television writer?’
‘Film,’ Mark said. ‘One indie success under my belt – critical acclaim but cult-viewing figures – and one complete flop. I’m hoping for a resurrection with number three, and while my agent’s on the case, it’s always good to be on the lookout for other avenues.’
‘Wow,’ Cat said. ‘That’s exciting. Amazing, really. I didn’t know you were a writer.’ She thought of George’s fears, Mark spying on people and making notes in the café.
He laughed. ‘Why would you? I haven’t mentioned it before.’
‘What kind of films?’
‘Horror.’
‘Ah,’ Cat said. ‘Dawn of the Dead. Chips the dog. You love horror films.’
‘Exactly.’ Mark looked surprised, as if he hadn’t expected her to remember. Maybe she should have pretended to forget. ‘George Romero is one of my heroes.’ He smiled down at her, and for the first time Cat couldn’t see amusement or challenge in his eyes, just warmth and genuine interest. Should she ask now?
‘We shouldn’t be up here.’ Jessica stood and shooed her dogs out of the study. ‘I got carried away. It’s unthinkable of a hostess not to be present at her own party.’ She indicated the door, and Cat followed the Westies into the corridor. ‘Are you having fun, Cat? You really shouldn’t worry about the dogs tonight – they’re utter divas. They’ve had me to learn from, after all.’ She wrapped her arm around Cat’s shoulder. ‘I meant to ask you about your housemate, Joe?’
‘What about him?’
‘Is he single?’
Cat gawped, momentarily unable to respond. Mark was descending the stairs, looking back at her. ‘He, uhm, he’s had a bad break-up recently.’ The moment she said it, she felt as if she was betraying Joe. Would he want Jessica to know?
‘The poor darling. He’s seriously sizzling,’ Jessica said. ‘And an excellent kisser.’ And with that bombshell Jessica followed Mark down the stairs, leaving Cat next to a black-and-white photo of the hostess with her three dogs. They were captured in a rare moment of calm, their furry bodies placed elegantly round Jessica’s seated form, looking up at her as though she was a goddess. Maybe she was, thought Cat. After everything she’d seen, it wasn’t entirely implausible.
It was after three in the morning when they made it back home, Cat flopping onto the sofa next to Polly, kicking off the shoes that had, earlier, caused so much panic. Joe put the kettle on.
‘Urgh,’ Polly moaned, ‘I have to be up early for lectures. Why didn’t I leave earlier?’
‘Because it was an amazing party,’ Cat said, ‘and it was impossible to leave.’
‘Elsie managed it.’
‘Yes, but she is older. And I think she was all talked out.’
‘Did you find Mark again?’
‘What, after my lucky escape?’ Cat hid her head in her hands. ‘What was I thinking?’
‘Maybe,’ Joe called from the kitchen, ‘like usual, you weren’t. You could have lost them both as clients – and friends – if they’d realized what you were up to.’
‘I know,’ Cat murmured. ‘I was being ridiculous.’
‘Did you ask him out?’ Polly asked, her eyelids fluttering.
‘No, because Jessica was there, and I only saw him briefly as he was leaving.’
‘But you will?’
‘I will,’ Cat said, but she wasn’t entirely convinced. She felt out of her depth now she knew he was another writer. Jessica was much more suited to him than she was. They had similar interests, they moved in the same circles of producers and agents and glamorous dinners, they were both attractive and dynamic. How could she compete with that?
But then, when he’d said goodbye, he’d put his hand on the small of her back, brushed his lips against her cheek and handed her his iPhone. When she looked, he’d already added her name into his contacts, the cursor blinking next to the mobile entry. Grinning, she’d typed her number and held the phone out to him, her heart racing when he’d purposefully brushed his fingers against hers and kissed her for a second time.
Joe put three cups of tea on the table and sat on the arm of the sofa. A couple of his shirt buttons had popped open, and Cat thought he looked happily dishevelled.
‘You had a good time, Joey?’ Polly asked.
He nodded. ‘I did. Better than I expected – thanks for
asking me, Cat.’
‘Sure.’ She gave him a quick smile, and then because she couldn’t bear not to know, added, ‘Jessica was very taken with you.’ Was it her imagination, or did his cheeks flush slightly?
‘She’s a formidable woman,’ he said.
‘Good kisser?’ Cat risked.
‘Cat!’ Polly screeched, now fully awake. ‘Joey?’
He shrugged his jacket off and moved to the opposite sofa. ‘She cornered me in a corridor and I…’ He ran his hand through his hair, his brows knitting in confusion. ‘It was a party, she’s very attractive, I kind of…got caught up in the moment.’ He shrugged, not quite smiling, his eyes finding Cat’s.
‘Joseph Sinclair,’ Polly said, ‘you utter hussy!’
‘It doesn’t mean anything,’ he said. ‘It was a quick kiss, not a full-on…look, I don’t even know why I’m discussing this with you. It’s not going to happen again.’
‘Jessica might have other ideas.’
‘Really?’ He sipped his tea, his gaze suddenly anywhere but on her.
‘I was piggy in the middle. “I really like your friend Joe, will you ask him to come and meet me behind the bike shed?”’
Polly screeched. It wasn’t something she did very often, and it shocked them all, especially Shed who’d been fast asleep in front of the fireplace. ‘Oh my God, Joey, you’ve got a celebrity author after you! Who’d have thought it?’
‘Shush,’ Joe said. ‘It was a party. Party…things happen. And at least I didn’t spy on the hostess.’
‘I think,’ Cat said, leaning forward, ‘we should make a rule. What happened at number one can only – only – be discussed within these walls. Like What Happens in Vegas. Deal?’ She held out her arm, fingers clenched into a fist.
‘Deal.’ Polly bumped it, and they both looked expectantly at Joe.
He stared at them. ‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ He leaned forward and bumped their fists. ‘Now we’re definitely back in the playground. I’m going to bed.’ He stood and lifted his jacket, swinging it over his shoulder with a finger. ‘Thanks for a great party, Cat. I’m glad I came, and not for the reason you think. I just…’ He shrugged. ‘I had fun. Maybe I should listen to you more often.’
‘Wow,’ Polly murmured, ‘this is a big moment.’
‘Oh, shut up, sis.’ He turned towards the door, but not before Cat caught his grin. ‘Night all.’
Polly put her head on Cat’s shoulder. ‘Looks like the King of Grump can be cheered up after all.’
‘I think Jessica has magical powers. She’s bewitched him.’
‘He didn’t look that bewitched.’
‘No,’ Cat agreed. ‘Happy, though.’
‘That could be all the champagne.’
‘True.’ Cat stretched her toes out and yawned. ‘Maybe we’d better do a temperature check tomorrow, see how long it lasts.’
She felt Polly nod against her shoulder. ‘So you didn’t get to speak to Mark, not properly. Did you get any new clients?’
‘I did,’ Cat said, feeling the flap of excited butterflies below her ribcage. ‘The Barkers at number six. They’ve got two retrievers, and they need someone to walk them three days a week, when Juliette has to go into the office. I’m going to see them on Sunday to firm up the arrangements.’
‘So you managed to have fun and network?’
‘I managed it. I didn’t think I would, but I did. I was given some very good advice,’ she added.
‘Fab, good for you!’ Polly put her arm around Cat, and Cat returned the hug. Contentment washed over her with the knowledge that, nearly two months in, her new business wasn’t failing. It was still slow, but she hadn’t messed it up the way Alison had told her she would, and – thanks to Joe – she had a plan. She was surrounded by friends, she got to spend her days out in the fresh air, with the friendliest creatures on the planet, and Mark wasn’t going out with Jessica. It felt as if everything was slowly coming together.
‘Come on,’ she murmured, when Polly started snoring gently into her ear, ‘let’s get to bed, or we’ll still be here when the sun comes up.’
Cat switched off the lights, leaving the living room in darkness and her black patent heels where she’d kicked them off, no longer needed now the party was over.
In the early May evening, Fairview beach looked like something out of a daydream. Small waves crested the sand and the sun was beginning to descend, a glowing, amber orb on the horizon, giving the sea a golden shimmer. The elegant houses on the seafront looked steadily on, and it gave Cat a glow of satisfaction knowing that her cosy home on Primrose Terrace was just beyond.
She strolled near the waves, her hands in the pockets of her military-style jacket, Valentino and Dior at her feet, Coco splashing in the water, yapping at the foam as it sprayed around him. She breathed in the strong, salty air, felt it sting her dry lips. It was a week after the party, Jessica was at a fellow author’s launch, and Cat could almost taste summer around the corner.
The beach was beginning to empty out. The sun’s heat was not yet strong enough to linger into the evenings, and the pull of warm houses and family dinners drew people away. Cat walked past the ice-cream parlour, closing up for the evening, the lighthouse silhouetted ahead of her on its rocky outcrop. It was picture-postcard perfect, quieter than Brighton and much more peaceful, much more room to think. Cat could see herself staying in Fairview for a long time, whatever happened with Pooch Promenade.
There were several dog owners on the beach, and she watched as an Airedale raced into the sea, chasing nothing but the waves. Valentino and Dior were happy to keep their feet dry, and Coco kept edging up the beach, intrigued but scared by the encroaching water. They were definitely divas, but Cat wouldn’t have it any other way.
A tennis ball landed in the breakers ahead of them, and a glossy Border collie raced in and retrieved it, before running back to its owner. Cat knew who it was before she’d laid eyes on him. She hid her nerves behind a smile and tugged gently at the leads, praying that, for once, the Westies would behave. Spotting her, Mark changed course, throwing the ball further along the beach so that Chips ran after it.
He was eating fish and chips from a cone of paper, the smell of vinegar wafting towards Cat, making her stomach rumble.
‘Lovely evening for it,’ he said, coming to a stop in front of her. ‘Chip?’
‘Thanks.’ She took one. It was hot and greasy and delicious and, glancing up at him, she took a second.
‘Nothing better than fish and chips on the beach.’
‘Agreed.’ The Westies settled at Cat’s feet, as if aware that this was an important conversation. It made her more nervous. ‘It was a good party, the other night.’
‘It was. Jessica has some good party-throwing skills, and it was good to meet more people from Fairview. You can’t meet everyone walking in the park.’
Cat nodded. ‘I’ve only been here since the beginning of the year, and Jessica’s been a good friend.’ It felt strange to think of her that way, but Cat saw her as more than just a client.
‘She’s very generous, very willing to help,’ Mark agreed. ‘I’ve been in touch with the producer she was telling me about, and we’re meeting in London next week.’
‘That’s great! Congratulations.’
‘And Dior’s looking better, after his scare that night.’
Cat examined her wellies, aware that Mark was scrutinizing her. ‘He is,’ she mumbled.
‘Not that there was ever anything wrong with him.’ He took a chip and chewed it thoughtfully.
‘No,’ Cat tried a laugh. ‘Just being a diva, like Jessica said.’
‘Or a helpful accessory.’
‘For what?’ Cat looked up, squinting against the setting sun.
‘For some spying. So you could come and find Jessica, or me, or both of us, and have a good excuse if you were found out. Which you were.’
‘I-I don’t know what you mean.’ It sounded lame even to Cat. How could she have imagin
ed, for a second, that Mark hadn’t seen through her?
‘I think you do,’ he said. He took another chip and held it in front of her. Without thinking, Cat opened her mouth and he popped it in. ‘I think you came looking for us, and I think – though this could be due to my over-confidence – that you were pleased to discover our friendship was – is – platonic.’ He smiled at her, and Cat felt her cheeks redden, knowing she’d been beaten.
‘Maybe.’
‘Maybe?’ He laughed. ‘OK, I’ll have to go with maybe then.’
‘What do you mean?’
He turned towards the horizon, his dark eyes creased against the sun. Cat decided that, though his jawline was still very definitely smug, it was also incredibly attractive. Like the rest of him.
‘I mentioned that I have to go to London next week. I’ll be away for three days, maybe four. In lots of meetings, and so…’ He turned back to Cat. ‘I was wondering, would you be able to look after Chips for me? I’ll leave a key. You could feed her, walk her, spend some time with her. Give her some of the endless love you have for everything with four legs and a wagging tail.’
Cat bit her bottom lip to stop herself from grinning. ‘Sure. I think I could fit Chips in.’
Mark scrunched the empty chip paper into a ball and stuffed it in his pocket. ‘Thanks, I’d appreciate it.’
‘Always happy to help a fellow Primrose Terrace resident.’
‘I thought you’d find my offer hard to resist.’ He started walking and Cat fell into step alongside him, the dogs happy to get going again, bounding along at her feet.
‘You did, did you?’
‘We’ve already established that I’m irresistible.’
Cat turned away, hiding her smile. ‘You established that a long time ago. I’m in it for the dogs. But I’d love to hear more about your films, if you can talk about them.’
‘They’re not secret projects, though the less said about the second one, the better.’
‘The flop?’
‘Exactly. Quite a spectacular flop. It took me to a bit of a dark place, made me reconsider…certain things. I’m not used to having my confidence dented. Anyway, I met Jessica at some lunch event, she told me about this place, about how much better it was living outside London, having space, fresh air, time to think. I made one visit here and the decision was easy. And of course Chips loves it, the freedom of the beach as well as the park. It’s better all round.’
Wellies and Westies Page 9
