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Raincoats and Retrievers, A Novella Page 7
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‘I’d love to, but being away from the kids all day I want to spend the evening with them. Can I take a rain check?’
‘Of course.’
‘What about Owen?’ Frankie waggled her eyebrows. ‘I’m sure he’d like to come and congratulate Polly.’
‘Does he talk much about her? I have no idea if they’ve spent any time together since he came to yours that day.’
‘He did,’ Frankie said, ‘right afterwards. It was Polly this, Polly that, Polly loves pistachio ice cream, and have you seen the colour of her hair, and isn’t Polly one of the nicest people you’ve ever met? He literally bounced around the ice-cream parlour. But, recently, not so much. Her name’s dropped out of the conversation, and Owen’s sunny demeanour has gone with it.’
‘He was keen, then?’
‘Understatement of for ever.’
‘I know she was too,’ Cat said, folding her arms. ‘I know it. And I know Polly’s over-sensible when it comes to things like studying, but if she’s planning on keeping the man of her dreams waiting in the wings until everything feels just right, then she’ll lose him.’
‘Maybe she’ll get in touch now her exams are out of the way?’
‘If he comes tonight, then she won’t have to.’
Frankie grinned. ‘Are you sure that’s wise? If you don’t think they’ve seen each other, I mean.’
Cat shrugged, wondering if this was a step too far. But then life was short – the story about Will’s friend proved that – and if you couldn’t grasp your dreams by the hand, the way her mum and dad were doing, well then, what were best friends for?
‘Is Owen in?’
Frankie shook her head. ‘He and Rummy are visiting a supplier.’
‘Can I give you the details of this evening, and ask you to pass them on to him?’
Frankie shook Cat’s hand. ‘Consider me your co-conspirator. And let me get you a coffee and a scoop of ice cream. Which flavour?’
‘Do you have vanilla?’
‘Cat, we’re an ice-cream parlour. What do you think?’
Polly was upstairs in the bath, and Cat was rearranging bowls of snacks and the mini sausage rolls she’d spent the afternoon making. Her earlier bravado at inviting Owen had faded to a gentle nausea, especially when Owen had texted her, responding so enthusiastically to her invitation. She should really have asked Polly.
‘Why are you so nervous?’ Joe asked. ‘It’s a few friends, and unless you’ve accidentally sprinkled cayenne pepper in the snacks, they’ll be delicious.’
‘I’m not nervous, I just – I want Polly to be pleased. She looked pretty exhausted when she got home.’
‘She’ll appreciate this,’ Joe said. ‘It’s not a rave.’
No, but I have invited Owen, Cat thought. She could already picture the disappointment in Joe’s eyes when he found out she’d interfered again. She swallowed and swapped round the olives and the Monster Munch, went to get glasses and ducked just in time to avoid bashing her head against the cupboard door she’d left open.
‘Cat, Cat.’ Joe put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Slow down. Everything’s fine.’
She turned to face him, smoothed down the front of the blue wool dress she’d changed into. ‘I don’t know.’
‘It’ll be great,’ Joe said, fixing her with his stare. ‘Would I lie to you?’
No, Cat thought, but you’ve been keeping things from me. But she didn’t say that. ‘You can’t predict the future,’ she said instead, and as if to prove her point, Shed shot through the cat flap, into the living room and jumped on the coffee table. Wotsits and Wotsit dust spread themselves liberally over the carpet.
‘Shit!’ Cat squealed. ‘Look.’
Joe calmly went to the cupboard under the stairs and got the hoover out. Cat watched him clean up, then refill the bowl from the multipack Cat had bought, and put it back on the table.
‘Ta-da!’ He grinned and spread his arms wide.
‘I’ve invited Owen,’ Cat rushed. ‘Polly doesn’t know.’
Joe dropped his arms, his smile disappearing. ‘What?’
‘I thought she’d want to see him.’
‘And you didn’t think it would be best to ask Polly first? Do you even know whether they’ve been spending time together? They could have had a couple of dates and decided it was over.’
‘If that was the case she would have told me before now. And he wouldn’t have agreed to come so readily.’ She folded her arms.
‘But Polly might not want him here,’ Joe said.
‘Do you know that? Has she confided in you?’
Tight-lipped, Joe shook his head and they stared at each other, anger fizzing between them – Joe’s new and bright, Cat’s old and worn; Curiosity Kitten-shaped resentment that she was too afraid to confront him over. They were saved by the doorbell.
Cat went to answer it.
‘Look who I’ve found!’ Elsie gestured for Owen to go in ahead of her. He was carrying a bottle of champagne, and looked fresh and handsome in a red-and-white checked shirt and jeans. He greeted Cat and went into the living room, and Elsie reached forward and gave her friend a hug. ‘What is it?’ she asked. ‘You’re stiff as a board.’
‘Polly doesn’t know Owen’s coming,’ she whispered into her friend’s ear.
‘Oh, Cat.’ Elsie sighed wearily, and Cat’s heart beat faster.
At least Joe was hiding his anger, laughing with Owen and organizing drinks.
‘It’ll be fine,’ Cat murmured to Elsie.
Elsie didn’t look convinced, but she went into the living room all the same, leaving Cat in the hallway with her head in her hands. Shed was sitting under the coat racks, next to the radiator, looking up at her. Cat crouched down.
‘Shed,’ she said, rubbing his ears, ‘what the fuck have I done?’ Shed purred and shut his eyes in contented bliss. ‘At least you appreciate what I’m trying to do here.’
‘Cat?’ Polly said. ‘What’s going on? I heard voices.’
Cat shot up and faced her friend. Polly’s hair was wet from her bath, and she was wearing jogging bottoms and a pink Fat Face hoody.
‘A-are you wearing that?’ Cat asked.
Polly laughed. ‘What’s wrong with it? I’m so relieved the exams are over. I’m going to spend the next few days loafing, and not feeling guilty that I’m not revising every spare second of the day.’
‘I-it’s just I might have organized a mini-celebration for you.’
‘What, now?’
Cat nodded, swallowing down the lump in her throat.
‘Well, that’s OK,’ Polly said, descending the stairs. ‘Who’s here?’
‘Elsie,’ Cat admitted, glancing towards the living room.
‘That’s great,’ Polly grinned. ‘We can crack open a bottle of wine.’
On cue, Owen popped his head round the door, gave Polly his best smile and held up the bottle of champagne. ‘I think it deserves more than just wine. It’s so good to see you, Polly, it’s been far too long.’
For the second time in ten minutes, Cat watched as a pair of blue, Sinclair eyes lost their smile and their warmth, and hardened into anger. Anger aimed entirely at her. ‘O-Owen,’ Polly stuttered, ‘I didn’t know you were coming.’
‘You didn’t?’ Owen’s mouth dropped open, and Cat was sure it was her imagination, but his shiny curls seemed to wilt a little. ‘I thought Cat said—’
‘Cat didn’t say anything to me.’ Polly’s smile was wide, but entirely humourless.
‘I’m so sorry,’ Owen murmured. ‘Maybe I should go.’
‘Oh, no, don’t go.’ Polly pushed past Cat and took Owen’s arm, ushering him back into the front room. ‘You’re here now, and it would be good to catch up. I can talk to Cat about this later.’
Cat stayed in the hall, focusing on the shrivelling feeling that was taking over her insides, and saw Joe watching her. She couldn’t work out if it was anger or disappointment that was shadowing his expression, but she didn’t feel
like finding out.
She turned towards the front door, wondering if her friends would forgive her for planning this disaster and then leaving them to it. Another perfect scenario for Joe’s Curiosity Kitten cartoon, she thought bitterly. And, as if aware she needed rescuing, a loud banging reverberated through the walls. Cat didn’t care who it was – at least it was a distraction. She flung open the door, relief coursing through her, and was met with the very beautiful, very angry face of Juliette.
‘Cat,’ she said. ‘A word, if I may?’
’S-sure, except we’ve got some friends—’
‘Fine. This won’t take long. I just came to tell you to butt out. I can’t afford to lose you for Alfie and Effie, otherwise I’d be cancelling our dog-walking arrangement too, but my marriage is none of your business. I know I spoke to you about the surfing, I know you may have…seen some things, but that doesn’t give you the right to try and fix us. Whatever you said to Will earlier, you can forget about it. Understood?’
Cat opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She could sense the change in atmosphere, knew that everyone in the front room was listening intently, and thought that at least it would take the attention off her faux pas with Owen.
‘O-of course, Juliette. I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my place.’
‘No, it wasn’t. Remember that in future.’ Juliette turned on her navy, patent court shoes and strode down the steps and back to her own house.
Cat closed the door and pressed her forehead against it.
‘Wow,’ Joe whispered, coming up behind her. ‘What’s your next party trick?’
Cat laughed humourlessly and turned to face him. She knew tears were threatening to spill out of her eyes, but there was nothing she could do about it. This was all of her own making. ‘Wait until you try the sausage rolls,’ she said. ‘They should complete the circle of disaster.’
‘Great,’ Joe said softly, squeezing her arm and giving her a smile that was so reassuring that the first tear escaped and began to make its way down her cheek. ‘Can’t wait.’
Chapter 5
After Juliette’s interruption, the small celebratory gathering soon relaxed. Cat’s sausage rolls were met with appreciative noises, and Owen’s champagne added some much needed fizz to the evening. Cat was, in part, vindicated, as Owen and Polly were soon next to each other on the sofa, and stayed that way for most of the night. While they were chatting with Joe and Polly’s colleague Leyla about the ice-cream parlour, and whether Owen should expand his menu to get more business when it was quiet, Elsie cornered Cat.
She had been trying to stay elusive, keeping an eye on empty glasses and crumbs on the carpet, acting as a silent hostess rather than risk upsetting anyone else, but she had known that she wouldn’t be able to avoid Elsie for the whole evening.
‘Cat, what were you thinking?’
‘About what?’ Cat asked, putting a fresh bowl of olives on the dining table. ‘Inviting Owen, trying to solve Juliette and Will’s problems, or just in general, at this very moment?’
Elsie exhaled and shook her head. ‘Some people don’t want help sorting things out. They want to be left to get on with it. And you hardly know them. I’m surprised he welcomed your offer of help.’
‘Will was lovely,’ Cat said. ‘I hadn’t really spoken to him since we organized the walks, but he was kind, and receptive, and told me why he’d decided to leave his job. What he’s doing makes so much sense – he lost someone close to him – and he wants to make more of his life, of his time with Juliette. She can’t see it. She thinks he’s being weak, or irresponsible.’
‘But you haven’t heard her side,’ Elsie said, dropping into one of the dining-table chairs. ‘You don’t have enough information to understand it, and you shouldn’t try. It has to be between the two of them.’
‘But that’s what I was trying to help with. I told Will to take Juliette away for a night, that I’d look after Alfie and Effie. I thought they could get away from work, from their routines, and talk it through.’
Elsie looked up at Cat, her lips curving into a knowing smile. ‘It’s an excellent idea, and if Will had been clever enough to suggest that without mentioning you, then he might have got away with it.’
Cat leaned against the table. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Imagine if Mark came to see you tomorrow, and said, “Jessica has suggested I take you away for a romantic weekend.” Would you be delighted, or confused and upset that he’d been discussing your relationship with Jessica?’
Cat tried not to bristle at the thought. ‘That’s a very good point.’ She sighed. ‘Well, no use crying over spilled milk. I messed up, and I’m lucky I haven’t lost them as a client, though Juliette might still change her mind about that.’
‘I can see both sides,’ Elsie said. ‘I can see where she’s coming from, but she’s also asked you to walk the dogs at short notice, and hasn’t been that subtle about the reasons. If you knew them a little bit better, she might have been touched at your kindness.’
‘Except Polly knows me better than anyone, and she’s not touched.’ They looked at Polly and Owen, taking up one seat of a three-seater sofa, squished together like peas in a pod. Owen kept looking at Polly in a way that made Cat a bit weak at the knees, and Polly’s initial scowl had transformed into a constant, beaming smile. Joe was opposite them, talking animatedly, and Leyla was stroking Shed, who had returned to the gathering and was pretending to be the friendliest pet on the planet. Cat felt a strange twist of loneliness.
‘She’ll forgive you. You were clearly right, after all.’
‘But it wasn’t up to me, was it? I do too many things without thinking, without asking, and tonight is a prime example.’
Elsie rubbed her arm. ‘Don’t be so hard on yourself. Your intentions are always good. You just need to pick your battles a bit more carefully.’
Cat managed a smile. ‘You’re a wise old bird, Elsie Willows.’
‘Less of the bird, thank you very much.’
‘Sorry. Make it up to you with another sausage roll?’
‘I’m completely stuffed, but these are delicious. You should cook more often, have peace offerings on hand to give to everyone you’ve annoyed. They’d have no option but to forgive you then.’
‘You think so?’
Elsie nodded. ‘Everyone’s heart is connected to their stomach, so good food is always a winner.’
Cat wondered who she should try to make it up to first.
After Elsie and Leyla had left, Cat felt like a spare wheel. She cleared up what she could and tiptoed to the doorway, hoping she’d escape without anyone noticing.
‘Cat?’ It was Joe. ‘Where are you off to?’
‘I’m bushed,’ she said. ‘Thought I’d head up to bed.’ She pointed towards the stairs, in case he’d forgotten where her bedroom was.
Joe glanced behind him. Polly and Owen were deep in conversation. He followed Cat out and ushered her up to the landing, stopping outside her bedroom door.
‘You did good,’ Joe said.
Cat laughed. ‘Hardly. Unless my aim was to piss off everyone within a hundred-metre radius.’
‘You’ve not pissed me off. And your instincts about Polly and Owen were spot on. Maybe she needed that push.’
‘I wasn’t trying to replace myself with Owen in Polly’s affections.’
‘Come on, it won’t come to that,’ Joe whispered. ‘You put a lot of thought into this evening, and Polly will see that.’
‘And now I need to go to bed.’ He was being so kind, so supportive of her, his usual irritation a distant memory. She wondered why that was, but all she could come up with was that he felt guilty about the cartoon. Cat the calamitous, curious kitten. She shook her head.
‘Hey,’ Joe said, ‘don’t worry about it.’ He reached out and put his arm round her shoulders, pulling her to him. Cat resisted at first, but his touch was comforting. If she was truly honest, it was more than comforting. She leaned her head on his chest
and closed her eyes, breathing in his faint, spicy aftershave. She could hear his breaths, slow and even, perhaps a slight hitch of tension or emotion. His hand was pressed against her shoulder, his fingers light on her skin. She wanted him to move them, to slide them up her neck and into her hair.
Their stolen hugs were becoming more frequent and, maybe it was her imagination, but now there was a silent charge between them, a current of electricity she was finding it harder to ignore. But he was Joe, housemate and best friend’s brother, creator of a secret cartoon about her tendency to interfere – not about her dog walking, something that put her in a good light, that she was proud of. Joe was a serial Cat Palmer disapprover; enough that he wanted to immortalize that side of her in his work.
And he wasn’t Mark.
She pushed back and gave him a quick smile. ‘Thanks.’ She hadn’t meant it to, but it sounded sarcastic.
‘No worries,’ Joe said, slightly stiffly. ‘Goodnight.’ She watched him disappear up the second flight of stairs, and then went into her own room, desperate to wipe the evening’s events from her mind and start fresh in the morning.
Cat left the house early the next day, glad that she was walking Valentino, Coco and Dior, Jessica’s Westies. When Jessica opened the door, Cat launched into a hug, catching the glamorous author off guard.
‘What was that for?’ Jessica laughed, pushing Cat back to arm’s length and looking at her.
‘I’m not sure,’ Cat admitted. ‘For not being annoyed with me.’
‘Why would I be?’
‘I’m making quite a good job of infuriating everyone, recently. I’m looking forward to taking your dogs out, getting some fresh air and some time to think.’
‘Come round for coffee next week,’ Jessica said. ‘I’ve got deadlines to meet, but once I’ve sent my book off to my editor and have my head above water, we should spend the morning putting the world to rights.’
‘I would love that,’ Cat said. ‘Thank you.’ She bent to clip the Westies’ leads onto their collars, opening her arms as they spilled towards her, licking and nuzzling and wagging. Cat embraced them, their non-judgemental, loyal little bodies showering her with affection. She wasn’t sure it was possible to piss off a dog (except maybe Chalky, who was far too wise for his own good). Perhaps that was one of the reasons she loved them so much.