A Walk in Wildflower Park
Bella Osborne

Copyright

Published by Avon an imprint of

HarperCollinsPublishers Ltd

1 London Bridge Street,

London, SE1 9GF

www.harpercollins.co.uk

First published in Great Britain by HarperCollins Publishers 2019

Copyright © Bella Osborne 2019

Cover illustration © Kim Leo

Cover design © Cherie Chapman Book Design 2019

Bella Osborne asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

A catalogue copy of this book is available from the British Library.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, down-loaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins.

Source ISBN: 9780008258221

Ebook Edition © June 2019

ISBN: 9780008258238

Version: 2019-06-14

Dedication

For Patty – with love.

Contents

Cover

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Chapter Thirty-Eight

Chapter Thirty-Nine

Chapter Forty

Acknowledgements

About the Author

Also by Bella Osborne

About the Publisher

Prologue

Three months earlier

‘Happy pre-versary!’ Anna called from the kitchen.

‘What?’ asked Liam, screwing up one side of his face as he removed his coat. He walked through to where Anna was bouncing on her toes with excitement.

‘One year today will be our wedding day. So, I made you this. Ta-dah!’ Anna stepped away from the table and kissed Liam lightly.

Liam pulled away. ‘Right,’ he said, rubbing his neck. His eyes alighted on the amorphous brown mass behind Anna. ‘What the hell is that?’ He took a hasty step back and stared. ‘It looks like some sort of … demon? Have you been binge watching Game of Thrones again?’

Anna was hurt. She’d spent hours carefully crafting something special for him. ‘It’s a hedgehog.’

‘Made from what? Poo?’

‘It’s chocolate cake.’ Anna put her hands on her hips but, remembering they were covered in chocolate icing, she wished she hadn’t.

‘It’s got teeth?’ he said, peering closer.

‘Hedgehogs have teeth,’ said Anna, feeling defensive.

‘O-kay.’ He didn’t sound convinced. ‘Anyway, I wanted to talk to you.’

‘What about?’ asked Anna, turning her attention to aligning the hedgehog’s wonky eyes.

‘Those teeth are like my granny’s dentures.’

‘You wanted to talk to me about dentures?’ She smiled at him.

‘No. I think we need to take a break.’

There was a pause as Anna frowned. All she could focus on was that maybe she shouldn’t have used glacé cherries for the eyes. They were demon-like. Chocolate buttons would have been better.

‘Anna?’ prompted Liam.

‘Yes, fine.’

‘Really? You agree?’

‘Yes. I think it’s a good idea,’ she said, over her shoulder. ‘You’ve been working crazy hours recently and I could do with a break too. I’ve always wanted to go to New York but I don’t think I could cope with the flight.’ She turned around to see Liam was staring hard at the floor. ‘Did you have somewhere in mind? It’ll be cold and wet wherever we go in this country at this time of year.’

Liam’s eyebrows inched higher with her every word. ‘I don’t mean a holiday, Anna.’ Beads of sweat were forming on his top lip. His voice was gentle, his expression pained. ‘I mean a break from each other.’

And that was it. Her engagement, her future, her neat little life unravelled by one sentence. She hurled the hedgehog cake at Liam’s face and truly wished it had been made of poo.

Chapter One

‘Are you sure about Majestic Mayonnaise?’ asked Sophie, brandishing the tester pot.

‘Well, obviously.’ Anna playfully waved her loaded paint roller at Sophie.

‘Hey, I’m pregnant!’

‘Barely.’

‘Ten weeks actually, which means it’s the size of a large green olive.’

‘Which apparently means you can only supervise the decorating, rather than provide any actual help,’ said Anna, smudging paint across her cheek as she attended to an itch.

‘I’m sorting this out.’ She pointed at the box in front of her, the words ‘Random Crap’ emblazoned on the side in Anna’s handwriting. ‘I’d love to help with decorating but this is about you starting a new chapter without Liam and I don’t want to intrude.’

‘Two years I wasted on him. What is it with me always picking the same sort of commitment-phobe? Liam makes it four in a row. Four!’ said Anna, emphasising her point by holding up four fingers. She was beginning to think she was either a serial monogamist or she was destined never to find the one. She unceremoniously dropped the roller into the paint tray.

‘You’re not entirely over the anger phase yet then?’ said Sophie, blowing out her cheeks.

Anna’s flash of fury waned. ‘That’s two years of my life I’m not getting back. What sort of person dumps someone four months after proposing?’

‘A prize plughole?’ offered Sophie, who only ever used what she felt were child-friendly swear words and frequently resorted to making up her own versions. ‘You need to think about you now. Not him.’

Anna took a deep breath. Sophie was right. This was her new start. She needed to leave Liam in the past and concentrate on her future. She was more cross than she was upset. In fact, she probably should be more upset than she actually was. She spotted one of his books in the random crap box, snatched it out and slammed it into the box labelled ‘Arsehole’s Stuff’. Perhaps it would take a little while longer for the anger to abate.

‘You’re right. A new start in my new flat.’ She wasn’t sworn off men forever; she needed to prove to herself that she didn’t need one, prove she could manage perfectly well on her own. Then maybe if the right person came along she would consider a relationship on her terms, but given how many times she’d been bitten, it would be a long time before she’d feel ready to do that.

‘Have you got any biscuits? I’m Hank Marvin,’ said Sophie.

‘Top cupboard, Hank,’ said Anna, pointing behind her. It felt like a good time to have a break. She’d been decorating the kitchen all morning and the thought of a cuppa and a Hobnob was now dominating her thoughts. She was pleased with how the little flat was shaping up but it would be a while before it’d really feel like home. Anna had been moved in a week but with her dad’s help she was already putting her own stamp on things.

A few minutes later Sophie was thoughtfully dunking her third biscuit in a large mug of coffee.

‘You okay?’ asked Anna.

Sophie pursed her lips as she appeared to carefully consider her answer. ‘I don’t like to complain about this, considering what you’re going through, but I can’t shake the feeling that I’m hurtling towards thirty and I’ve not done any of the things I thought I would have by now. I’m fed up with being a general skivvy. I’m bored of having virtually no life outside the kids. I’m sick of washing, ironing and clearing up – it’s relentless. And I’m feeling a bit useless at work too …’ As if highlighting her gloomy state her biscuit dissolved into her tea. ‘Bumfuzzle!’

Anna handed her friend a teaspoon. ‘I meant the pregnancy.’

Sophie briefly screwed her eyes up and then opened them particularly wide. ‘Right. Sorry about the rant. Of course, I’m thrilled. We want lots of kids. The first two took ages to conceive so we thought we had plenty of time but this one must have been the Usain Bolt of sperm.’

Sophie’s husband, Dave, was the polar opposite of Usain Bolt. Dave was to speed what crayons were to fine art – simply not cut out for the job. He was the sort of person most labelled as ‘a nice guy’ but he was a constant source of irritation to Sophie.

‘Still, a new baby will be lovely and now I live seven doors away I’ll be able to help.’

‘Thanks. I’m going to need it.’ Sophie fished out another Hobnob.

‘It’ll be fine. You’re glowing.’ Wasn’t that what you were meant to say to pregnant women?

‘I don’t feel glowing. I feel tired and a little nauseous most of the time. And I’m spotty and fat already! All the pregnant celebrities look stunning and I look like this.’ She pointed in turn at her limply hanging hair, pimply chin and lumpy midriff.

‘I keep telling you the magazines you read are full of rubbish. The celebrities are all airbrushed and styled so much they’d make the Gruffalo look like Kim Kardashian. In fact, who knows for sure that the Gruffalo isn’t Kim Kardashian, I’ve never seen them together.’ Sophie gave a weak attempt at a smile. ‘You’re naturally beautiful.’

Sophie didn’t seem convinced. ‘I’m bloated and I’ve not lost my baby weight from the first two yet. And I really miss proper coffee.’ She peered accusingly into her mug.

Anna wasn’t sure what to say; instead she opted for squeezing Sophie’s shoulder. She didn’t like to see her like this but she knew her well enough to know jollying her out of it wasn’t the answer. They sipped their drinks in silence.

‘Come on,’ said Anna. ‘Let’s go for a walk in the park.’ The novelty of having a private park literally on her doorstep was going to take a long while to wear off. The park was in an area called Walmsley but was known as Wildflower Park because of the many varieties of wildflower that grew there. The history of the park had fascinated Anna when Sophie had first moved there a year before. The old manor house had been demolished during the Industrial Revolution leaving its grounds isolated but surrounded by other large houses, the owners of which were not keen to have their view spoiled by cheap workers’ housing or worse still a factory. They’d clubbed together to buy the gardens and turned them into a private park accessible only by those who had a property backing onto it. Even now keys were held by a select few who had an adjacent property. Anna was incredibly lucky to have been able to buy one of the flats in the small 1970s’ block, which was somehow allowed to be built, backing onto the park and therefore qualified its occupants for access.

‘Okay,’ said Sophie with a groan although Anna knew she loved a stroll around the park too.

Sophie zipped up her hoodie and Anna grabbed her coat and keys. It was early April and the signs of spring were becoming evident as the temperature was starting to feel warmer. Daffodils were everywhere and things were generally greener. As times had changed Anna no longer needed an actual key to open the gate to the park, just a special key fob. She pressed it to the gate, which buzzed in recognition and she pushed it open. Anna felt like she was being transported into the secret gardens of her favourite childhood books.

The park was a good size and must have been magnificent gardens in its day. Now a team of volunteer residents cared for it. A few years ago a community project had set about focusing on the reintroduction of wildflowers to help support bees, butterflies and other wildlife, and it had been a huge success.

Where Anna entered it was sheltered by some conifers, which hid what was once the rockery. A neat path wound its way through budding trees, past some newly sprouted crocuses and down to the pond. Everyone called it a pond, but to Anna, who had been brought up in the city, this was more than a pond. A pond was a thinly disguised plastic shape about four foot round you bought from the garden centre and filled with a few buckets of water; what they had here was more of a lake to Anna. It took up about a fifth of the park and must have been 250 metres across at its widest point. She loved the little island in the middle where the ducks seemed to take refuge at night in case any foxes came looking for an easy meal. But most of all she loved the areas that were given up to wildflowers – they were her favourite.

Sophie glanced at her phone as they walked side by side.

‘Are you going to check they’re all right?’ asked Anna.

‘Who?’

‘Dave and the kids?’

Sophie did some gurning followed by a long drawn-out sigh. ‘If I call I’ll hear chaos and get stressed out and I’ll have to go home and shout. It’s best if I don’t know.’ She gave a wistful glance in her house’s general direction.

‘Dave’s not that bad.’

‘Don’t get me wrong, I love him to bits. He’s just totally useless with the kids … And the house. And the garden.’ Sophie rubbed her middle and sighed.

‘You any nearer to agreeing names for number three?’ asked Anna, keen to cheer up the plunging mood.

Sophie put her phone in her pocket. ‘No, it’s the usual battle. Dave wants something traditional and I want something distinctive. And now we have the added pressure of getting something that works with Arlo and Petal. You know when you send cards and it says “Love from Dave, Sophie, Arlo, Petal and Moby.”’

‘Moby? As in Dick?’

Sophie rolled her eyes. ‘Don’t say that. Moby’s my favourite but I also like Enoch and Thaddeus.’

Anna failed to hide her flinch. ‘So, you’re counting on a boy this time?’

‘No, we’ve already agreed what she’ll be called if it’s a girl – Darby.’

‘As in Derby County Football Club?’

‘No, with an “a”, you muppet.’

Anna nodded her understanding. ‘Still, Dave won’t be happy when he goes to work on a Monday and someone says, “I see Derby got stuffed at the weekend.”’

Sophie took her hand out of her pocket to give Anna a swipe. They walked past the pond with the tall swaying reeds at its edge and headed up towards the largest of a series of oak trees. Anna decided to change the subject completely.

‘I’ve met Mrs Nowakowski,’ she said, with a raise of her eyebrows.

‘Did she ask you millions of questions?’

‘It was like completing a questionnaire.’

‘At least we don’t need surveillance cameras with Mrs Nowakowski about. She’s got more nose than Pinocchio – she doesn’t miss a thing,’ said Sophie.

‘She was disappointed I was single but thrilled I didn’t have a dog or a parrot. She seemed all right though.’

‘She’s not a fan of animals. She’s always reporting dog walkers who don’t pick up their poo.’ Anna gave her a quizzical glance. ‘Not their own poo, the dogs’.’

‘Oh dear. I’m thinking of getting a kitten.’ Anna bit the inside of her mouth.

‘Is this the start of your mad cat lady phase?’

‘No. I’ve always wanted one and Liam was never keen, so this is my opportunity. At least talking to a kitten instead of to myself won’t make me look quite so bonkers and it’ll be company.’ The thought of coming back to the empty flat bothered her. This was the first time she’d lived alone. At university she’d shared with friends, but her time there had been cut short and she’d moved back in with her parents. From there she’d rented places with her first fiancé and subsequent boyfriend with brief stints back home in between. After that she’d bought the cosy two-up two-down she’d shared with Liam for the last two years.

‘Kittens are manic and there’s the cost of stuff like vet’s fees and injections. It’ll wreck your curtains and scratch your furniture,’ said Sophie, with a knowing look. ‘But then the kids cost us a small fortune and they pretty much wrecked all our furniture. I’ve never been able to fix the bathroom blinds after Arlo used them as a parachute. On the plus side, I guess you don’t have to potty train a cat.’ Sophie looked thoughtful. ‘Maybe we would have been better off with kittens instead of kids …’

‘No, way. Your kids are gorgeous,’ said Anna and Sophie tilted her head questioningly. ‘Okay, they’re both proper bonkers but they’re still gorgeous.’

‘I know, but I feel like I’m doing a rubbish job in the office and a rubbish job at home. I can’t win.’

‘I don’t know how you do it all,’ said Anna. She was knackered when she got in from work and some nights was barely capable of heating a ready meal; how Sophie turned around and took care of three other people amazed her.

Sophie shrugged. ‘Anyway, how are you feeling about tomorrow?’

Anna gave a pout worthy of a sulky teen. ‘It’s not ideal, but I guess it’ll be okay.’ Anna and Sophie worked for the same insurance company who had recently taken over another company and Anna had banked on getting the job of managing the integration. However, the other company had negotiated hard and she now found herself in the odd situation of having to jointly manage the project with whomever the other company appointed. ‘To be honest, as they’re integrating into our processes I’ll be leading it by default.’

‘As long as they see it like that,’ said Sophie.

Anna badly wanted a big project on her CV, and she was willing to ruffle a few feathers to get it. ‘Yeah, let’s hope they’re a reasonable sort of person. But before that I’ve got Liam coming round to collect his stuff.’

Sophie pulled a face. ‘You know it’s times like this you really should give alcohol another go.’ Anna chuckled but there were too many demons guarding the reasons why she would never touch a drop again.

They followed the path silently until they reached the furthest oak and then turned around. From here they had a great view of all of Wildflower Park. There were a few dog walkers crisscrossing the large expanse of green in the middle and a jogger in a bright orange top circling the pond, but other than that it was just them. The sky was the palest blue edged with pearly grey clouds – like a scene escaping from an open book. It was the prettiest place and a stone’s throw from Birmingham, making it an oasis of colour on the edge of the Black Country. Anna felt a sense of calm wash over her and she knew moving here had been a good decision.

Chapter Two

Liam was never going to be her first choice for a fun evening but he needed to pick up his stuff and she would be as amicable as she possibly could. She plonked the box marked Arsehole’s Stuff onto the sofa and noticed the velvet ring box perched on the top. She gave it a hard stare before picking it up; it had promised so much and then let her down so badly. She thought of the moment when Liam had unimaginatively pushed it across the breakfast table to her. At the time she’d hoped it would be a story she would tell her children and grandchildren – how she’d asked what it was but secretly had guessed, and how she told him he needed to be on one knee and he’d laughed at her because that was what they did in the schmaltzy films she watched but he’d done it anyway. She now remembered the begrudging look in his eyes as he did so and the lack of any romantic precursor to his offer of ‘Let’s get married.’

She realised now it hadn’t even been a question. He hadn’t asked her as such, just merely suggested it as he would a casual trip to the cinema. Yes, this box had a lot to answer for. Anna didn’t open it; she knew the ring inside. It was the classic claw setting – the ring she had always wanted, the one she had dropped into conversation with Liam many times. Seeing it again was not going to help.

Seven o’clock came and Anna checked her mobile. She wanted this to be over. She wanted Liam to come in, take his things and go with as little small talk as possible. She was moving on with her life and this was a key milestone along her journey. The knock on the door made her jump and she shook her head at her own silliness.

‘Hi,’ she said, opening the door. Liam appeared relaxed and casual, the polar opposite of how she was feeling. ‘Come in.’

They walked through to the lounge and Anna pointed at the box of random items. ‘Here you go. I think that’s everything.’

‘This is nice,’ said Liam, having a good gawp around the room.

‘Thanks,’ said Anna. She wanted to pick the box up and thrust it at him but she wouldn’t be so rude.

‘So,’ said Liam, rubbing his hand across his chin. ‘Have you been okay?’

‘Yes, terrific, thanks.’ She said it too enthusiastically and Liam looked a little taken aback. Or was that hurt?

‘Oh, that’s good.’ He pursed his lips. Liam wasn’t paying attention; he was still inspecting the room and it annoyed her.

She wondered why he wasn’t just taking the box and leaving. He sat down on the sofa. Her sofa. Anna folded her arms. ‘Did you want a coffee or something?’ she asked out of politeness, which irritated her further. She was so British.

He smiled and she wondered why. ‘A coffee would be great – or something stronger. Have you still got the bottle of Châteauneuf you took?’

Anna knew her annoyance was disproportionate but really – how rude was Liam to walk in and think he could dictate to her in her new home! ‘No, I gave it to Dad. I’ll get you a coffee.’

Anna was standing next to the kettle and boiled inside as the plumes of steam escaped around her. She only put one sugar in his coffee when she knew he liked two – it was a silly thing but it made her feel a little better, until he tasted it and asked for more. Then she really could have screamed at him.

Finally, they were sitting next to each other – well, on separate ends of the sofa, which showed how much things had changed, and how uncomfortable they both now felt. Anna looked at Liam in a similar way as she had the ring box. He had once held so much promise too. Everybody liked Liam with his boyish good looks and confident air. Her mum had been particularly fond of him. Who could have known that proposing was going to be the trigger to make him question their whole future?

‘I wanted to talk to you about how we decide who gets which of our friends.’ This was all he said that started it off. Such a simple sentence, and yet two hours later they would still be locked in a head-to-head battle …

Anna looked up. ‘I’ll give you Tom and Alice for Darnell and Shanice.’

Liam shook his head. ‘Tom was my friend from uni and you never really liked Alice, so that’s not giving me anything. How about Matthew and Matt for Darnell and Shanice?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. No way! The two Matthews are worth ten Darnell and Shanices. And you hate it when Matt beats you at Ping-Pong – you get all stroppy,’ said Anna, knocking back another gulp of coffee. It had taken a lot of caffeine to get through this evening and she knew she’d have even less chance of sleeping tonight now.

‘It’s called table tennis. Only children call it Ping-Pong.’

She liked it when he got all picky because it made her loathe him a little bit more, which made things easier. ‘The two Matts are non-negotiable.’ They had been totally brilliant since the split and were definitely in her camp. Camp being the operative word.

He sighed deeply and crossed them off his list. ‘Any other non-negotiables we should get out of the way?’

Anna scanned her list quickly. ‘Stacey and Paulo?’ She bit her lip because they were the coolest couple they knew, and she knew Liam would want them. They had the best jobs, the jet-set lifestyle and the most amazing dinner parties. It wasn’t so much that she didn’t want to lose them as friends but as the antidote to her small simple life they were an addiction she wasn’t ready to kick.

He shook his head and gave her a pitying smile. ‘Yeah, okay. Tabitha isn’t keen on them anyway.’ As soon as the words were out Liam looked like someone had stuck a pin in his genitals, which was something Anna would have relished doing at that precise moment.

Before she could stop herself, she’d already asked the obvious question. ‘Who’s Tabitha?’

Liam rubbed his chin again. ‘She’s just someone I’ve started seeing.’

Anna felt her stomach drop and started to bob her head far more vigorously than was necessary. ‘Right. Good. That’s good. I’m pleased for you.’ No, she wasn’t. She was wrong-footed, vexed and, above all else, hurt.

An hour later they had been reduced to pulling the final few names out of a mixing bowl. There had been no other way when they had reached a stalemate. Who knew dividing up eleven couples could be so hard?

‘Yes! Charles and Lydia,’ whooped Liam, as he opened his piece of paper.

‘Crap,’ said Anna with feeling. She loved Lydia, so maybe she could find a way to see her on the sly. Getting up off the sofa, Anna held her head high. ‘Now bugger off out of my life … Please.’

She glanced at the list of rules they’d created. Despite it being a difficult moment, Anna smiled to herself, thinking: ‘This is what happens when you get two change professionals together.’ Liam stood up and pulled his box of stuff up into his arms. ‘You have to be proactive with those on your list and contact them. No need to tell them about the segregation,’ he said, letting himself out.

‘Shit weasel,’ said Anna, and she had another large mouthful of cold coffee.

Walking into the office, Anna thought about how Liam had annoyed her on two levels the previous evening: one with the whole dividing up their friends, and secondly by the mention of Tabitha. Not the mention of her alone but the fact he had moved on so effortlessly. Anna was a long way from moving on – she was still at the licking her wounds stage, which was why she was sworn off men for the time being. Perhaps men were designed differently? Maybe they were meant to switch to the next available female. It didn’t seem right that she had been so easily replaced. She hoped that said more about him than it did about her or their relationship, but she wasn’t sure. When Liam had dumped her she’d thought her world was caving in but she’d quickly realised her relationship with him had been much like Gruyère cheese – harder than it needed to be and full of holes.

It worried her that she’d not noticed how Gruyère he was before this point. What she needed was something more reliable. Cheddar, perhaps? She wanted something a bit more exciting than Cheddar. Cheshire? Too flaky. Maybe she’d hold out for a nice Brie: soft on the inside with a touch of decadence. But Brie could be smelly and a little crusty. She’d got it! White Stilton with apricots: simple but interesting with an edge of sophistication, which always felt special. How had she got on to cheese? All she’d done was make herself hungry.

When she was a little girl she remembered telling everyone she was going to marry her daddy. Her mother had had to sit her down and explain it really wasn’t an option and she had been quite upset at the time. Her very first life plan had been blown out of the water with one easy strike. She knew she had her parents up on a pedestal; their relationship wasn’t perfect but it was one born out of total love and care for each other and had stood strong for almost thirty years. Perhaps she was searching for a man to love her the way her father adored her mother – but was that so wrong?

Anna knew she had partly ignored the niggles in her relationship with Liam because, at twenty-eight, she was worried about veering off her life plan. But now they’d split up, she was totally off plan and way out of her comfort zone. She hadn’t only lost Liam; she’d lost her wedding day and her beautifully mapped-out future too.

Anna had always been conscientious and focused in every job she’d had since university; she was keen to establish her career before she started a family. She had always expected to have been married with children and well settled by the time she was thirty, based on the fact her parents had married quite young and she’d been born within the year. Her sister had followed shortly afterwards.

Anna’s thoughts were miles away as she pulled her security pass from the side pocket of her bag. It caught on the zip and she stopped to try to free it. Someone appeared, as if from nowhere, at her side.

‘Hi, can I get in this way?’

‘Ooh, you made me jump,’ she said, catching a quick look at the man. ‘You’ll need one of these,’ she said, wrestling her lanyard free, which bungeed the pass card out of her bag and whipped into the face of the stranger.

‘Ow!’ He clutched at his eye. ‘Damn it.’ He couldn’t have sounded more American if he’d tried.

‘I am so sorry,’ said Anna, profusely British and mortified at what she’d done. He staggered a little on the steps, his eyes tight shut. ‘Come over here,’ she said, taking his arm, noting the muscle definition through his jacket sleeve, and guiding him away from the flow of people coming up the steps. ‘Are you okay?’ she asked, hoping he was going to say yes.

‘Do I look okay?’ he snapped but at least he opened his good eye to survey his aggressor. He definitely had an American accent.

Anna gave an apologetic smile. ‘I am really very sorry. Shall I take a look?’ She pointed at his eye and he flinched.

‘No, thank you. Can you just tell me how to get inside the building?’ He gave her a look that implied he doubted she had the ability.

‘This is a staff entrance. You need …’ she thought better of showing him her pass again ‘… a staff security pass to get in this door. Shall I show you?’

‘No, I think you’ve done enough.’ His sarcasm wasn’t lost on her.

‘Okay, right, yes.’ You couldn’t help some people. ‘Have a nice day,’ she said, and she waltzed up the steps. There were a few people in front of her. When they shuffled forward she swiped her card and followed them into the revolving door. She glanced over her shoulder. He was still watching her. Perhaps he was trying to get in illegally, although she couldn’t think why. Suddenly the door stopped revolving but Anna carried on, banging her head on the glass. ‘Ow!’ She rubbed her forehead. That’d be a bruise later. The door then proceeded to go in reverse and spat her out into a queue full of tutting people. This happened every so often when your card hadn’t registered properly. Anna apologised to the queue, firmly reswiped her card and gave a quick glance at the American who was smirking broadly with his eyebrows raised in amusement. Great.

She took the stairs to the second floor and scanned the office for any new faces in their area; she was keen to meet the person who she’d be working closely with over the next year. The company operated a hot-desking policy, which was a bone of contention with everyone. A few people had allocated desks for a variety of valid and spurious reasons, leaving the rest of them to fight on a first-come, first-served basis. Anna was in luck as her favourite desk was free. It was a little like an old folks’ home in that they didn’t have their own seat but they all liked to sit in a certain one – and woe betide anyone who sat in a different seat.

She plugged in her laptop and while it fired up she went to get coffees for her, Sophie and their lead designer, Karl. Anna, Sophie and Karl had met when they’d been put on the same special project a few years ago and had quickly bonded over long days, a shared sense of humour and a love of good coffee. When she returned, Sophie and Karl were behaving like a pair of snooping meerkats, both on tiptoes peering over the filing cabinets towards their boss’s office.

‘What’s going on?’ asked Anna, handing out the coffees.

‘Venti, Americano, with hot milk?’ asked Karl, not averting his eyes from his surveillance operation as he took the cup.

‘Yep,’ said Anna, trying to see what they were watching.

‘With an extra shot?’ added Karl.

‘Yes, of course. What’s going on?’

‘And the cute brunette’s phone number?’

‘Y … No!’ Anna gave him her best withering glare and he replied with a wink. Karl was incorrigible; one of the last non-PC people she knew and also the gayest straight man she’d ever encountered.

‘We think Roberta’s meeting with the project manager from West Midlands Insurance,’ said Sophie.

Anna went up on tiptoes herself but it did no good – she was already in very high heels and still too short to be able to see anything. Her mobile trilled into life: it was Roberta.

‘Anna, could you come to my office right away? I’d like you to meet the new PM.’

‘On my way,’ said Anna, but Roberta had already ended the call.

‘Cover me, I’m going in,’ said Anna, picking up her trusty project folder and coffee.

Anna knocked on the glass office door. Office was too grand a term for the small corner sectioned off with boards and a sliding smoked-glass door but Roberta was very proud of it, having battled tooth and manicured false nail to get the ‘office’ she deserved.

‘Come in,’ said Roberta. ‘Ah, Anna. You took your time.’ Anna ignored her. Roberta was an odd sort and it was best not to challenge her. ‘I’d like you to meet Hudson Jones.’ What sort of name was that?

The person sitting with their back to the door stood up and turned around. Anna noticed he was rather tall and slim in his trendy suit, good-looking in an obvious way, and unnervingly familiar. When she saw one of his eyes was swollen it all clicked into place.

‘Hudson, this is Anna Strickland, our lead PM.’

‘You?’ said Hudson, blinking with his good eye, which she noticed was a beautiful shade of blue.

She gave a nervous laugh and extended her hand. ‘Yes, it’s me. Lovely to meet you. Again.’ She gave a little nod with the last word but had no idea why.

‘Oh, you already know each other. That should speed things up. Hudson has some excellent suggestions for project team structure, operational integration and …’ Roberta was checking her notes.

‘Project approach,’ said Hudson, sounding confident.

‘That’s terrific,’ said Anna, thinking the opposite. ‘I’ll walk you through what I already have in place.’ Hudson didn’t look pleased. They had both quickly picked up on the other’s frostiness.

‘Anna will bring you up to speed. I have a very important meeting to go to,’ said Roberta, squeezing her ample form from behind the largest desk the company could provide.

‘I think we’re all in that meeting,’ said Anna, giving her printed calendar a quick check.

‘Then I’ll follow you,’ said Hudson. ‘From a safe distance,’ he added for Anna’s benefit.

Chapter Three

It was a day of back-to-back meetings, never her favourite thing and even less so as she’d found herself going head-to-head with Hudson in the last two sessions. He was overconfident – or cocksure, as her grandad would have called it – and so far he had challenged everything Anna had raised. He had a bunch of ideas he seemed to think he could apply without knowing the first thing about their company processes and it was already starting to infuriate her.

She had a long list of things she would need to explain to him when she got the chance. The next meeting was with Karl, so Anna hoped that would offer a little light relief. She headed off to the room she’d booked, which she knew was barely more than a cupboard. When she got there the blind was down and the ‘In Use’ sign was on, so she waited. She was mulling over what to have for tea when she recognised the voices giggling inside as Karl and Sophie. She opened the door expecting to be greeted by friendly faces rather than a shifty duo caught in the act of something they shouldn’t have been doing.

Anna stared at the small table where Karl had two teaspoons and a small pile of white powder. She gazed disbelievingly at the guilty-looking pair and hastily shut the door behind her. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ asked Anna. Sophie stepped forward but erupted into giggles. ‘OhMyGod. Have you taken some of that?’ Anna was beyond shocked. She looked to Karl for an answer. They would all be instantly dismissed if anyone saw this.

‘It’s not what you think,’ said Karl, before joining Sophie in hysterics.

‘For goodness’ sake – shhh. And pull yourselves together,’ snapped Anna, anxiety coursing through her at the thought of being caught in this situation. ‘Get rid of it!’ Anna stabbed a finger at the white powder.

Sophie paused her giggling to sweep the white powder into a plastic cup of what looked like water. The liquid fizzed. Sophie gave it a swirl, lifted it to her lips and to Anna’s horror drank it down. Anna dropped her notebook and papers as her hands flew to her head. Was Sophie trying to get rid of the baby?

‘Whoa. It’s okay,’ said Sophie, seeming to realise Anna’s distress was very real. ‘It’s only paracetamol.’

Anna didn’t believe her. Paracetamol came in tablets not white powder. ‘You’re mainlining paracetamol?’

She glared at Karl. ‘Sophie’s got a headache and I read somewhere it acts quicker if you crush the tablets and take them in lemonade,’ he said.

Sophie was nodding. ‘I had a wicked headache and I don’t like taking anything when I’m pregnant. I thought I’d try a single crushed paracetamol and see if it worked. It’s probably hokum.’

Anna was shaking her head. ‘I thought it was … It looked like … Bloody hell, you scared the life out of me.’

‘Did you think we had a crack den going in here?’ Karl looked amused.

‘No … well, possibly. What on earth was I supposed to think?’

‘This was totally innocent. If you’re after the real crack den, it’s in the stationery cupboard up on the fourth floor,’ he said, with a tap of his nose.

‘You are a pair of idiots. Anyone would have thought the same as me. Now clear away any trace of that stuff,’ said Anna, picking up her things from the floor.

‘Sorry,’ said Sophie. ‘We didn’t mean to freak you out.’

‘We’d have been snorting it through ten-pound notes if we did,’ said Karl, with a chuckle.

‘I hope your headache goes,’ said Anna, as Sophie left the room.

‘Right, Karl, let’s talk Design Architecture,’ said Anna, turning back to him.

Karl narrowed his left eye and pouted. ‘I’m guessing you’ve not spoken to Hudson then?’ Of course Hudson had jumped the gun and spoken to Karl already, without her. Anna felt an involuntary sigh escape. She was feeling less and less guilty about whacking the guy in the eye.

After the day from hell Anna was in need of a strong coffee and a good old moan but what she opted for was a trip to the cat rescue. She didn’t like going home to an empty flat and it was a small stand for something she wanted and Liam had never let her have. And moaning to herself was never any fun, but with a cat at least she’d feel like someone was listening. As she had suspected they had lots of kittens and any one of them would have been perfect. They were all cute and all she had to do was choose one. She liked the one with the black patch over its eye and the one who looked like it was wearing a dinner jacket.

A young couple with two small children were looking at the same litter of black and white splodges. There was only one volunteer who was clearly rushed off her feet and was being continually harassed. Anna moved out of the way and went to peruse the pens at the other end away from the kittens whilst she waited for her turn. Each cage had a jolly write-up of its occupant. A very noisy Burmese called Sasha focused his elongated meow at her until she spoke to him. Anna moved out of Sasha’s field of vision and was watching Bill and Ben, two ginger and white males, who were peering over a sign on their window that said ‘reserved’ when there was a thud behind her. Anna turned around to see an exceptionally large tabby cat with both paws on the glass window of his pen. Clearly happy he’d attracted Anna’s attention, he started to parade up and down in front of the glass with his fluffy tail held high. Anna smiled and went over.

His bio said his name was Maurice and he was nine years old, though when Anna peered closer, he didn’t look like an old cat. The dark, long-haired tabby was now sitting, staring directly at Anna. He seemed to fill most of his pen. Anna didn’t think she’d ever seen a cat that big before that wasn’t in a zoo.

‘Sorry, were you next?’ asked the volunteer.

‘Yes,’ said Anna. ‘Is he really nine?’

‘Maurice? Yes, he is, but there’s plenty of life left in him,’ said the volunteer, reaching to open the pen so Anna could meet the cat.

‘It’s okay. I was really after a kitten.’ Anna felt instantly guilty. She sidled away so Maurice wouldn’t hear, which she knew was a bit crazy.

‘We have plenty of kittens. Let’s fill the form in and you can tell me which one you’d like.’ Anna relaxed and followed the volunteer back to the kitten section. She glanced over her shoulder. The big fluffy cat was watching Anna intently. The volunteer went through the questions but Anna’s mind kept going back to Maurice.

‘Has Maurice been here a long time?’

‘A couple of months. He’s got a lovely nature but very few people want the middle-aged ones. Is your property rented or owned?’

‘It’s owned. Where did he come from?’

The volunteer stopped filling in the form and looked at Anna. ‘It’s a bit sad really. His owner had a fall and had to go into a nursing home and they couldn’t find anyone to take Maurice so he came here. He’s struggled to settle into life at the centre. He’s been used to the same lap to sit on for nine years and a garden to wander around in, so it’s a bit of a shock for him. That’s why he doesn’t interact much.’ She sighed. Back to the form: ‘Any other pets?’

‘Err, no. Poor thing, he seemed quite friendly.’

‘Did he? You should be honoured. He ignores most of us.’ She scribbled her initials at the bottom of the piece of paper. ‘Right, we’ll pop over one evening and do your home check, and then you’ll be able to come and collect your kitten. Which one was it?’

‘It was … um …’ Anna had to think hard as both the kittens she’d liked had slipped from her mind and all that was there was a picture of Maurice. ‘Actually, could I have another look at them please?’

Sophie kissed Arlo’s forehead and smoothed his hair to one side. It was wayward like his father’s. ‘Night, sweetie. Straight to sleep now.’

‘I don’t see why I should when Petal is still up,’ said Arlo, folding his arms indignantly over his Star Wars pyjamas. ‘She’s younger than me!’

Tiredness had claimed most of Sophie’s body and it felt like she was sinking. Sophie sighed and adjusted the grumpy jiggling mass on her hip that was Petal. She’d forgotten how tired she got when she was pregnant. It went beyond the usual levels of yawning and looking forward to bedtime and was more a sensation closer to lapsing unconscious.

‘Sweetie, Petal’s going to bed now too. Night, night.’

‘But it’s not fair!’ he said, his bottom lip starting to quiver.

‘Sweetie, please, Mummy is tired. Please go to sleep.’

‘Everyone in my class stays up late. Why can’t I?’

I can’t have this conversation now, thought Sophie as Petal’s wriggling increased and was now accompanied by whining.

‘We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Night, night.’ She switched the light out and shut the door.

‘I don’t like the dark!’ shouted Arlo. Sophie closed her eyes, and tears tumbled silently down her cheeks. The clunk of the key in the lock announced that Dave was home.

‘Hiya,’ he called into the hall. Sophie briskly wiped away the tears, sniffed and headed downstairs.

‘Hello, gorgeous,’ said Dave to Petal who reached out for him. ‘You should be in bed by now – it’s late.’

‘Give over, Dave. I’ve not stopped all day so please don’t walk in and start criticising my parenting.’

‘Hey, it wasn’t a criticism. Tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it for you.’

Sophie huffed. ‘But that’s the thing, you’re not doing it for me. These are your children too!’

‘Blimey, who’s upset you today?’ He headed upstairs with a happily dribbling Petal.

‘You,’ said Sophie, but he was out of earshot. ‘It’s always you.’

When Dave came back downstairs Sophie was plonking dinner on the table.

‘This looks great. I think I’ll have a glass of Merlot with it,’ said Dave, diverting to the wine rack. Sophie glared at him. She needed a glass of red wine far more than he did but she wasn’t allowed one – pregnancy was so unfair.

Dave merrily loaded his fork with spaghetti bolognaise and took a large swig of wine as he read an email on his phone. Sophie sipped her glass of water and stared at him. He’d hardly said anything since they’d sat down to eat aside from imparting that the irritating dry skin patch had returned to his elbow.

‘Dave, I want to go on holiday.’

‘Hmm.’ He eventually pulled his eyes away from his phone. ‘Maybe next year.’

‘Next year we’ll have three kids to contend with. That’s no holiday, plus it’ll cost more.’

That seemed to grab his attention. Dave loved to save money. ‘I guess we could take Arlo out of school, which would make it a lot cheaper. It’s a right rip-off that the travel companies hoik up the prices because of the school holidays.’ He shook his head.

‘Okay, great.’ This was a lot easier than she’d anticipated. Of late Dave seemed to be displaying many Scrooge-like qualities so this was a pleasant change. ‘I’m thinking somewhere in the Caribbean. Nothing too touristy but somewhere like Anguilla might be nice.’

‘We can’t afford … where was it again?’

‘Anguilla. Beyoncé and Richard Gere holiday there.’

‘Together?’ asked Dave, through a mouthful of spaghetti.

‘Don’t be daft. Or Bora Bora, that looked amazing on Keeping Up With The Kardashians.’

‘Sophe. That sort of holiday costs thousands and the kids would be a nightmare on the plane. How about a few days at Butlins?’

‘Butlins?’ Sophie almost shouted.

‘What’s wrong with Butlins? The kids would love it.’

Sophie was shaking her head. ‘Plugging hell, Dave. I don’t work my bum off to have a few crabby days in Butlins. I thought it might be nice to have some time just the four of us before the new baby arrives. Have a proper family holiday.’

‘I had proper family holidays at Butlins as a kid and loved it.’

‘Your mum went to Butlins?’ Sophie found this hard to believe as her mother-in-law, Karen, was the stuck-up sort. She was also a force to be reckoned with, which had earned her the nickname the Kraken – though it was mainly Sophie who called her that.

‘No, our grandparents took us. But we had the best time. I think it’d be great. We could do a weekend and see what we think?’

‘I am not going to fuzzing Butlins.’ Sophie went to pick up her glass but realising it contained water she slapped her hand on the table, making them both jump.

Dave’s mouth drooped at both edges. ‘Sophe, do you remember the conversation we had when we bought this place?’ Sophie gave a twitch of her head and tried hard not to pout. ‘We agreed this was our forever home but to be able to afford it we had to give up all the other stuff for a while, including big holidays.’

At the time Sophie would have agreed to anything. She’d fallen in love with the house and Wildflower Park, and she knew she had to have it. Even if it had meant selling a kidney, she would still have given it serious consideration.

‘And you’ll get a break when you’re on maternity leave,’ he said, spearing his dinner with his fork. Sophie had to stop herself from spearing him with hers.

Chapter Four

Sophie was deep in conversation with Roberta’s PA, Priya, when Anna emerged from the stairwell soaked to the skin and thoroughly fed up that her bus had been late and she’d got caught in a torrential April shower. She scanned their area but all the best desks were occupied.

‘Where can I sit?’ asked Anna, trying to avoid looking at the dark side of the office.

‘Peter is out today, you can sit there,’ said Priya, pointing at the desk behind her that was strewn with photographs of two small blonde children and a selection of pictures of stick people. Anna dumped her stuff on the desk and instantly felt like a squatter as she moved the ‘Best Daddy in the World’ mug to one side.

‘I think he must have had his teeth whitened,’ said Sophie, running a tongue over her own.

‘You’d be able to find him in the dark,’ giggled Priya. ‘He is gorgeous though.’

‘Who’s this?’ asked Anna, switching on her laptop.

‘Hunky Hudson,’ said Sophie, widening her eyes.

Anna’s interest waned. ‘Do you have to call him that?’

‘He’s gorgeous! How can you not fancy him, Anna?’ asked Priya, looking genuinely surprised.

‘Meh?’ was all Anna could manage. His domineering attitude had completely deleted any alluring quality he may have displayed.

‘I think he’s totally fit and—’

‘Who’s fit?’ asked Roberta, emerging from the lifts and Anna made a mental note that she clearly had bionic hearing.

‘Hudson,’ said Priya, as she shuffled some papers to make herself appear busy.

‘Fit and very gay, I’m afraid,’ said Roberta. Anna and Sophie became interested again.

‘He never is?’ said Sophie dismissively.

‘I think his life partner would disagree with you,’ said Roberta, radiating smugness as she took her list of meetings from Priya.

‘His shirt yesterday was very fitted,’ said Priya, emphasising it by running her hands over her own body.

‘Have you met his other half then?’ Anna’s usually strong gaydar abilities had been called into question.

‘I spoke to him on the phone when I rang to discuss the job with Hudson.’

Priya looked thoroughly disappointed ‘That’s ruined my day that has.’ Roberta headed off to her first meeting and Priya followed at a trudge.

‘Because otherwise, she would have been well in there,’ whispered Sophie to Anna who shooed her back to her own desk. The last thing Anna needed was to get into office backbiting. She checked her watch: two minutes to the start of the project meeting and no sign of Hudson or Karl. She gathered up a pile of Post-it Notes and a roll of brown paper from the stationery cupboard en route, and felt a spring in her step as she strode off to the meeting. This was where she took control and Hudson would have to acknowledge her project management prowess.

Anna heard laughter as she approached the room and tried hard not to look shocked as she saw Hudson, Karl, and a variety of others sipping coffee and munching on croissants.

‘Morning, Anna! Help yourself to breakfast. We’re about to kick off,’ said Hudson, taking off his jacket to reveal a distinctive pale pink shirt with shiny spots woven into the material, which was a perfect, although somewhat snug, fit.

‘Nice shirt,’ said Sophie, taking a seat and giving Anna a knowing look. Anna offloaded her stationery cargo to the floor. She decided she would see what he had planned before she dived in.

Sophie leaned over conspiratorially. ‘I don’t care if he is gay, he’s still gorgeous.’ Anna shook her head at Sophie, who stuck her tongue out playfully.

‘Our goal today is to get a common understanding of the project end state,’ announced Hudson. ‘You are all absolutely key to its success but only if we are all focusing on the same thing.’ She had to admit he was quite charismatic but already she hated herself for being passive and letting him lead. This was exactly what he wanted and she needed to fight back.

‘If you’re ready to map out that end state and how we get there, I’ve brought the tools,’ said Anna, casually indicating the brown paper and sticky notes.

‘Thanks, but the whiteboard will be fine,’ said Hudson, barely glancing over.

‘But you can move the sticky notes about … and there’s a different colour for each workstream.’

Hudson’s expression was disparaging. ‘I prefer the whiteboard and I can just take a photo at the end when we’re happy with it. Anyway,’ he said, clasping his hands together and focusing on the smiling Sophie. Traitor, thought Anna. ‘I’m really keen that we work together as a cohesive team.’ Sophie nodded vehemently and Anna rolled her eyes.

‘In which case we need to be clear on roles and responsibilities within the programme,’ stated Anna, leaning forward in her chair and starting to feel ready for a fight.

‘I disagree,’ said Hudson. ‘We don’t need defined roles, we just need to utilise everyone’s skills.’

Anna felt as though she were on the centre court at Wimbledon as the heads spun back in her direction in anticipation of her response. She wasn’t backing down now. A voice in her head said ‘Deuce’.

‘And the easiest way to understand each other’s skills is to assign everyone a specific role on the project …’ Hudson opened his mouth to butt in but Anna continued, ‘to ensure we maximise resources and don’t have any duplication of effort.’ Advantage Strickland.

‘I really don’t want to waste anyone’s time this morning, so let’s focus on the end state for now and we can have a discussion later about roles and responsibilities. Offline.’

Deuce.

Anna hated office speak or Corporate Bollocks and she had a feeling Hudson was going to be fluent in it.

‘Okay,’ said Anna, and Hudson let out a sigh. ‘But we are all going to have a slightly different view of what the end state is—’

‘Which is the whole purpose of this meeting,’ said Hudson, the agitation in his voice apparent. ‘Let’s spend what’s left of this session coming to a consensus on what that end state looks like.’ Advantage Jones. ‘Is everyone happy with that approach?’ Everyone nodded except for Anna. Game Jones.

Hudson swept away the writing someone had left on the whiteboard with a few broad strokes of the board rubber, his toned muscles flexing under his well-fitted shirt. He had no need to go up on tiptoes to reach the top edge or jump up and down like an untrained terrier as Anna always had to do. She was really beginning to dislike him.

Anna was beavering away at her computer, trying to ignore the laughing coming from the other side of the office. She gave a cross glance in their general direction and paused. Hudson was sitting nonchalantly on the corner of his desk holding court as the others all gazed at him adoringly. Anna slumped back in her seat – it was like being back at school and being up against Chloe Buglioni for Head Girl all over again. Just like Chloe, Hudson was taller, more attractive, funnier and more confident than her. Unlike Chloe, he wasn’t promising to kiss anyone who voted for him, although from the looks on their rapt faces they would probably have liked him to. Another guffaw of laughter and head-shaking seemed to signal the end of Hudson’s story and everyone started to disperse. Anna gritted her teeth – he wasn’t Chloe, and this time, she wasn’t going to lose.

‘You coming to the pub?’ asked Sophie.

Anna stretched her neck and it clicked. She checked her watch. ‘Yeah, go on then – just for half an hour and then I need to get home for my home inspection from the cat rescue place.’

‘Hudson’s paying,’ added Sophie, turning to watch him bend over to pick up his laptop bag.

Anna was instantly no longer keen. ‘Actually, I’ll finish this.’ She angled her head towards her screen.

Sophie pouted. ‘Come on, don’t be like that. It’s not his fault you’re doing a job share.’

‘He could back down.’

‘But you’re not,’ said Sophie, with a knowing look. She had a good point.

Anna was trying to think of another excuse when Hudson strode over with his bag slung casually across his body. ‘You coming, Anna?’ He had one of those smiles she’d only seen previously on film stars. All perfect white teeth and twinkling eyes.

‘Yes, she’s just packing up,’ said Sophie, before Anna could form her excuse.

‘Awesome, see you both over there,’ said Hudson, and he strode off.

Anna slumped back in her chair. ‘What did you do that for?’ Her voice came out whinier than she’d have liked.

‘Because you and Hudson have to find a way to get on and if this is him offering an olive branch …’

‘I’d like to shove it up—’

‘Uh-uh,’ said Sophie leaning over and unplugging Anna’s laptop. ‘Play nice.’

The pub was noisy and busy and Anna was regretting agreeing to go but she had a plan: she’d have one Coke then she’d slip away without anyone noticing. She spotted the usual suspects at the far end of the bar, and with lots of apologies she weaved her way through.

‘Anna,’ called Hudson, beckoning her over.

As she and Sophie reached him, he produced two filled champagne flutes. ‘Here you go, ladies.’

‘Thanks, but I’ll just have a Coke,’ said Anna, getting out her purse.

‘Me too,’ said Sophie, gazing longingly at the glass of fizz.

‘Come on, who doesn’t like champagne?’ asked Hudson, raising both the glasses temptingly.

‘I don’t,’ said Anna.

Hudson proffered a glass to Sophie. ‘I’m on antibiotics,’ she lied. She wasn’t ready to share her baby news yet.

Hudson insisted on paying for their soft drinks and they moved away from the bar to a marginally quieter corner. ‘I need the loo,’ said Sophie and she selfishly disappeared, leaving Anna with Hudson. As if I don’t get enough of him at work, Anna thought.

‘I’m excited about working with you Anna.’ He actually sounded genuine but Anna’s bullshit monitor went into overdrive anyway.

‘Why’s that?’

‘You know so much about the company. You know the right people to engage with and they like you.’

He had clearly been doing some snooping around to find out about what people thought of her. She wasn’t sure if she felt flattered or intruded upon, but she definitely didn’t want to talk shop at the pub.

‘Thanks. Let’s not talk about me. What’s your story?’

He took a slow draw of champagne. He had attractive lips, plump and pink.

‘My dad’s American, my mom’s British. I was born just outside New York in a village called Port Chester. My dad worked in Manhattan. Shortly after 9/11 we moved to England. I went back to the US for university and I’ve been working in the UK for a few years now.’

He had a way of holding her attention and she wanted to know more but didn’t want to appear keen. ‘You’ve not lost the accent.’

‘I’ll let you in on a little secret.’ Without realising it she was leaning closer. She detected a hint of aftershave. ‘I think it’s you who has the accent.’

‘Ha, ha. You’re hilarious.’ She sipped her Coke.

‘Roberta said you’re local. Have you lived here long?’ he asked.

‘All my life.’ She had always been quite proud of the fact she was a Brummy although her short stint at university had watered down her accent a great deal. He held her eye contact and did a good job of appearing interested. ‘My mum and dad live in Hockley.’ He looked impressed, which meant he clearly had no idea where it was.

‘You’ve only worked for the one company then?’

‘In project management, yes.’ He didn’t need to know about the earlier roles as a filing clerk and a serving wench at Warwick Castle.

‘This is my fourth.’ He seemed proud of this. ‘It gives you a breadth of experience you can reapply elsewhere.’

More corporate bollocks. ‘I think loyalty to a company pays off.’

‘I think that’s naïve.’ How had they ended up talking about work again? And why was she getting annoyed with him?

Anna made her excuses and disappeared to the toilet. She had a quick word with herself. She needed to focus on the big issues; getting caught up in petty power struggles was a waste of time and energy. At the end of the day, Roberta was going to judge them both on what they delivered. She redid her lipstick, pulled back her shoulders and went back to the group.

‘… cacky pants,’ said Sophie through hysterical giggles.

‘What’s so funny?’ asked Anna, feeling left out already.

‘It’s a quirk of American pronunciation,’ said Hudson, changing into an English accent. ‘You’d say everyone at the programme board meeting wore khaki trousers but to us they’re—’

‘Cacky pants,’ repeated Sophie and she doubled up again.

‘In my experience people often leave board meetings with cacky pants even if they didn’t arrive wearing them,’ said Anna. ‘Apart from me.’

Hudson’s eyebrows twitched. ‘I don’t doubt that for a second.’

A few days later, with approval from the cat rescue in the bag following their home visit, Anna drove her beloved Mini to the rescue centre. It had been a difficult decision choosing a pet and she hoped she’d made the right one. For the first time in her life she was going to be a pet owner, assuming the time she briefly had a goldfish didn’t count. She’d built him a lovely Lego home, but unsurprisingly the house move didn’t go well for the goldfish. Anna had only been four at the time.

She followed the volunteer past the many cats and tried hard to ignore their sad faces and the guilt she felt for not being able to choose all of them. All the cats at the rescue needed homes but she knew the older ones would always find it harder than the cute mewing kittens. The volunteer stopped at a cage with a sign covering the bio, which read: ‘I’m going to my forever home.’ The cat inside glanced up.

‘Hello, Maurice,’ said Anna. ‘I’ve come to take you home.’ Maurice became very interested when his pen was opened but less so when he was bundled into a cardboard cat carrier scarcely big enough for him.

‘Is that secure?’ asked Anna, as the carrier lurched about.

‘They’re very sturdy. Don’t worry, he won’t be able to escape. Here’s all his paperwork,’ said the volunteer, handing a bundle of papers to Anna. ‘His last owner usually calls once a week. It’ll be nice to tell him that Maurice has a new home.’

Up until then Anna hadn’t thought much about Maurice’s previous owner and she didn’t have time now either as the heavy cat carrier was starting to bounce around worryingly.

Anna put it on the front seat of the car and set off. It was twenty-five minutes to home. She started talking to the box each time it began to jiggle or meow. The meows got more desperate and the box’s movement got more vigorous. He didn’t have much room inside. She was expecting to see a leg burst from each corner, cartoon style, and start marauding around the car. Anna stopped at the traffic lights and pulled on the handbrake.

‘Now listen, Maurice, we’re nearly home. It’s not far away and when we get there I’ll let you out.’ But Maurice had other ideas and, with a startling bang, the top of the carrier burst open and out jumped Maurice. Anna squealed involuntarily and the traffic lights changed. She crunched the gears and the car lurched forward as she set off again gripping the steering wheel tightly. Maurice disappeared over the passenger seat and Anna tried to keep an eye on his manoeuvres through the rear-view mirror.

‘Maurice!’ She was trying to keep one eye on the cat and the other on the road.

Maurice appeared at her headrest on cue but after a brief sniff he quickly disappeared. At the next set of lights Anna turned around to see what he was doing. Inside the small car it was even more apparent that Maurice was a lot bigger than the average cat. He had his paws on the glass and was rubbernecking at the cars queued next to them, in a similar way to how he was at the rescue centre. The people in the car next to them did a double take when they saw the cat staring at them. The lights changed and they were off again. Maurice was keen to investigate the front of the car and slid down Anna’s side and became particularly interested in the pedals. Anna had to push him gently to the side for fear of an accident, but his response was to jump onto her lap, filling the space between her and the steering wheel. Anna could barely see over him and had to drive the last few minutes with a furry head checking the road ahead for her.

She pulled up into her designated parking space and once the engine was switched off she could hear Maurice purring; he was almost as loud as the engine had been. At least one of us is happy, she thought.

She gave him a tickle around his ear and he pushed his head hard into her hand. ‘Welcome home, Maurice.’ All she had to do now was work out how to get the large fluffy cat from the car to the flat.

Maurice was more relaxed on her lap so with one hand she manoeuvred the cardboard cat carrier nearer to her and opened the lid wide. She lifted Maurice up but as soon as he sussed what was happening he appeared to expand in all directions and started to wave his legs about wildly. Getting a large star-formation cat through the broken box lid was not going to happen.

A quick call to Sophie with a request for something she could use prompted Sophie’s arrival at the driver’s window a few minutes later with a sling-style baby carrier.

Anna buzzed the window down a fraction: she daren’t let it open fully in case he escaped. ‘Seriously?’ She nodded at the baby sling.

‘I figured transporting kids and pets was kind of similar.’ Sophie studied the harness and glanced inside at the large cat filling up more than half of the back seat. ‘He’s huge. You didn’t say it was a baby sabre-tooth.’

Anna shot a glance over her shoulder. ‘One of the volunteers thinks he’s a Maine Coon.’ Another American who’s got one over on me, she thought, uncharitably.

‘He looks like he’s mainlining steroids,’ said Sophie, waving the baby sling at her.

‘I couldn’t get him in a box, so I have no hope with that,’ said Anna. She didn’t want to distress Maurice any further. As if sensing something was afoot he retreated to the back parcel shelf and hunkered down.

‘Try this,’ said Sophie, feeding a large pillowcase through the gap in the window.

Anna held up the pillowcase; it had a giant picture of a pug’s face on it. The inappropriateness seemed lost on Sophie. Anna turned the picture of the dog away from Maurice.

‘Here,’ said Anna, passing Sophie her door keys. ‘You open up and I’ll …’ she lowered her voice ‘… bundle him up and make a dash inside.’

Anna needed to get in the back of the car but didn’t want to risk Maurice escaping so she daren’t get out of the car. Instead she squeezed herself slowly between the seats all the while uttering what she hoped were reassurances. Maurice watched her intently from the relative safety of the parcel shelf. She took a deep breath and, gripping the edge of the pillowcase, firmly swooped upon him and tried to scoop up the cat like a fisherman trapping his catch.

Maurice began to yowl and tried to reverse out of the pillowcase but Anna was already gathering up the ends and gripping them tightly together. She opened the car door and scrambled out holding up the squirming protesting bundle. Anna made a dash for the flats as Mrs Nowakowski came out wearing fluffy orange slippers. Maurice let out an ear-splitting cry and the older woman’s eyes pinged wide open like a bush baby.

‘Hello again,’ said Anna, holding on tight to the wriggling pillowcase as the pug face on the front distorted and bulged. ‘Sorry, I have to dash.’ She didn’t want to appear rude.

Mrs Nowakowski’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish’s but nothing came out. Sophie held the door open and Anna and the dissenting pillowcase shot inside.

Chapter Five

The next morning Anna left Maurice curled up on her most expensive cushion. He seemed to have claimed it during the night and she hadn’t had the heart to take it from him. He had spent most of the previous evening hiding under furniture, which probably wasn’t surprising given his pillowcase ordeal, but this morning he seemed calmer, if still a little wary. She’d left him food, water and a clean litter tray and locked him in. The rescue centre said he had to stay inside for at least three weeks – and preferably longer – so he knew where to return to when he was let out. Maurice was on her mind as she walked through the office, and up ahead she could see Sophie. Anna checked her watch, as it was unusually early for Sophie to be in.

‘Morning,’ said Anna, scanning the holiday chart on the wall and trying to work out whose desk might be free for her to squat at today.

‘Hi,’ said Sophie, giving her a shifty glance.

Anna paid attention to what Sophie was doing. ‘Are you moving desks?’

‘It’s temporary so Hudson and I can be together. Sit together,’ she hastily corrected.

‘Just be careful, Sophe,’ said Anna. She didn’t trust Hudson and Sophie seemed to be getting hooked in very fast.

Anna settled herself down in a nearby desk and moved the usual occupant’s clutter to one side. Really, who kept a potato clock and a pink toy troll on their desk? She had a friendly email from a member of her old team, which she replied to, and told her about Maurice. Anna opened up a new email and added in the names for the board and all senior people on the programme. She and Karl had made good headway on the project scope and she wanted to share that work ahead of the big meeting they had later. Her friend sent a message demanding a picture of Maurice. Anna was happy to oblige as she’d already taken quite a few of him looking rather handsome curled up on that cushion. She sent them from her phone to her work email address, copied the pictures over and pressed paste as she was interrupted by Hudson.

‘Anna, did you say you were issuing the deliverables paper first thing?’ he asked, his tone reasonable but the words instantly making Anna feel defensive.

‘I’m literally sending it now,’ she said, as she huffily stabbed at the send button. In the very same millisecond her brain registered what she was sending and where. ‘Nooooo!’

She had attached the many pictures of Maurice to the deliverables email and now it was zapping its way through the ether to all the great and the good on the programme.

‘What’s up?’ asked Hudson.

‘I’ve sent …’ Anna couldn’t believe what she’d done. It felt like her stomach had dropped to her toes and bounced back up again. She ran her palms down her face. ‘Wrong email …’ Her fingers jabbed at the keyboard; embarrassment swamped her. She’d never live this down. She tried to remember how to recall messages. ‘Nightmare …’

‘Anna? What is it?’ His voice was surprisingly gentle.

He would think she was a total idiot but there was no point in lying – he was on the distribution list too. She swallowed hard. ‘I’ve sent pictures of my cat to almost everyone on the programme.’

His eyebrows jumped but he recovered his expression quickly. ‘Budge up,’ he said, shoving her wheelie chair and making her collide with Sophie like an errant bumper car. His fingers whizzed across the keys as her heart thumped at an unnatural speed. She’d never done anything quite so stupid before. There was the time she left her egg salad on a sunny windowsill and went to a workshop, stinking out the office … but this beat that hands down.

Hudson stood up straight. ‘Okay. Recalled successfully—’

‘Thank you so much,’ said Anna, relief swamping her.

‘—with the exception of Roberta. She’s already opened the email,’ he added, wincing and scrunching up his shoulders as if waiting to be thumped.

‘Bugger,’ said Anna, with feeling. That was going to be a fun one to explain. Anna twisted around. Roberta’s office was empty and her laptop wasn’t there – she liked to take it to meetings to make herself look extremely important.

‘Don’t worry, I’m sure it’ll be fine,’ said Sophie, ‘I mean Catwoman was a feminist right? And so is Roberta so …’ She gave Anna’s arm a pat whilst she and Hudson exchanged knowing looks.

A meeting reminder popped up, jerking her back into action. She had precisely five minutes until the big meeting. She dashed to the printer to collect her hand-outs but the printer was lit up like Las Vegas with warning lights and had not printed anything. She checked all its paper trays, she rummaged around in the middle bit and nothing appeared to have been chewed up, and as a last resort she switched it off and on again. She was now ready to give it a thorough kicking.

‘Is there a problem?’ asked Hudson, who must have crept up behind her.

Anna spun around and leaned back against the printer to put a little space between them. ‘No, I’m fine.’ She tucked a piece of stray hair behind her right ear in a jerky movement. She wasn’t fine but having him see that wasn’t going to improve things.

‘Can I help at all?’ he asked, peering past her to the myriad flashing lights on the printer’s panel.

‘I doubt it,’ said Anna, before running him through all the things she had tried. She checked her watch – she needed to leave or she’d be late. Hudson leaned towards her and she wondered for a second what he was going to do. He pushed the toner door slightly and it clicked shut. The whole machine whirred into life and Hudson gave her a nonchalant rise of his shoulders. She hated it when that happened.

‘Thank you.’ She managed to say it without gritting her teeth. She gathered up her papers and scuttled off.

Anna’s day proceeded to go from bad to worse; Roberta was not impressed with the photos of Maurice and had a rant at her in front of everybody over an entry on the risk log, which she clearly didn’t understand, only to apologise later in private and explain away her behaviour as a result of her imminent period. Karl was stressing about lack of data – he really did put the anal in analyst, and Hudson was being perfectly efficient, which was always irritating. She was glad to escape at the end of the day, even if the sight that greeted her was perplexing … Maurice was still asleep on her expensive cushion and appeared to have not moved all day, but the entire contents of a man-size box of tissues had been shredded and liberally scattered around the living room making it look like an indoor snowdrift.

The fact Maurice had slept all day unfortunately meant that he was awake and meowing for most of the night; evidently he didn’t feel quite at home yet. Anna went for a jog first thing, though after very little sleep, it was like sticking her head in a washing machine during spin cycle – neither was a great idea, but at least she was out in the fresh air and enjoying the park. It was Saturday morning and she was keen to leave her work frustrations behind her. The steady rhythm of trainer on path consumed her body while her brain could focus on what was troubling her.

Anna realised what had started out as a jog had been speeding up and her lungs were burning with effort. She slowed down and stopped near a bench, holding on to the back of it while she caught her breath, admiring the row of grand houses that circled the park. They all had gardens that gave them exclusive access to the park on their doorstep, and she could see Sophie’s house from here – or rather, her back gate. Sophie’s house had a very long garden, which led to a lovely family home, and without even realising what she was doing, Anna had given up on her run and was walking towards it. It was time for a cuppa and a serious bitching session.

Anna wasn’t surprised to find the gate was locked but a quick phone call to Sophie had Dave sent down to let her in.

‘Welcome to the madhouse! You okay?’ He was his usual upbeat self. Nothing seemed to faze Dave, he bobbed along happily as the rest of life’s shit flew around him. Sometimes literally, if Petal was in a nappy-diving mood.

‘I’m good, thanks. Settling in to the neighbourhood.’ She felt the need to pre-empt the next question.

‘We knew you’d love it here. Sophie’s in the utility wrestling with sheets. Arlo was sick last night. He’d sneaked a box of Maltesers and eaten the lot.’

As they neared the house the noise of shouting children increased. Arlo was running around the kitchen wearing a sieve on his head and waving a pirate sword, his latest obsession.

‘Hiya, Arlo,’ said Anna, intercepting him and the plastic sword neatly. ‘How’s school going?’

‘Rubbish. Willoughby Newell keeps getting me into trouble.’

Anna mouthed the name at Dave and he shook his head. Kids who were given names like that were always going to have problems, thought Anna. ‘What does he do to get you in trouble?’ she asked.

‘He cries when I hit him,’ said Arlo, a deep frown burrowing across his perfect skin.

‘Do you think maybe if you didn’t hit him, that might help?’

Arlo pondered this for a moment, his wavy baby blond hair swinging about his head as he shook it vehemently.

‘Shitake!’ Sophie’s voice came from the utility. Anna left Dave to explain the laws of cause and effect to his son.

Anna popped her head round the door. ‘Mushrooms as swear words – that’s a new one. What’s up?’

Sophie hugged Petal to her hip. She was surrounded by a rainbow of laundry; brightly coloured baskets overflowed with clothes all around her. ‘This,’ she said, waving her one free arm in a chaotic fashion. ‘I swear the kids get through three outfits each a day. It’s like painting the Forth Bridge but at least doing that you’d get some fresh air rather than being stuck inside all the time. Why isn’t being naked socially acceptable?’ Her eyes told Anna this was a genuine question.

Anna studied the piles of dirty clothes. ‘How do they wear this much?’

‘These people are experts. They train hard. They’re at the peak of their performance. I have bred Olympic mess makers.’

‘Takeaway coffee and a walk round the park?’ suggested Anna with a weak smile.

Sophie decided to bring Arlo because Dave was complaining he couldn’t do what he needed to and watch both the children.

Arlo had found a giant stick and like an overenthusiastic Labrador was attempting to drag it along with him, but at least he’d tire himself out and Sophie might even be in for the rare treat of an undisturbed night’s sleep.

‘You okay?’ asked Anna, sounding tentative.

‘My eyes have more bags than a schoolkid with PE and Food Tech on the same day, my husband is as useful as go faster stripes on a tortoise, my children act like they’ve been raised by hyperactive wolves and I haven’t slept properly since the millennium.’

‘Same as usual then,’ said Anna.

‘You know, I actually fantasise about sleeping for a whole uninterrupted eight hours.’ Sophie stared off into the distance and sipped her coffee thoughtfully. ‘Sleep is my fantasy. It used to be Ryan Gosling, and before him it was Robert Pattinson.’

‘I thought it used to be David Beckham.’

Sophie nodded. ‘Him too. Oh, who am I kidding? I couldn’t be bothered even if he turned up on my doorstep. I’d end up getting him to play with the kids while I went for a nap. Victoria Beckham’s very lucky. Her David is a real family man, he’s loaded, has world-renowned dress sense and he’s gorgeous. In life’s lottery I got my David. He’s a real ale man, all his money goes on the mortgage and bills, most homeless guys are better dressed than he is and he has the kind of face that perfectly describes the word “gormless”.’

‘Ouch, that’s harsh.’

‘I don’t mean it to be. But when you step back and examine the decisions you made that brought you to where you are now. It makes you question and compare.’ She paused. ‘Arlo, the stick won’t go through that gap. It’s going to snap in half and hit you in the face if you’re not careful!’ Sophie threw her hands up in despair. ‘It’s non-stop. This week I’ve got loads to do at work for this big meeting. It’s Kraken’s birthday so Dave slipped into conversation that it’d be nice if the kids made her a card and Arlo needs some cakes for school because they’re celebrating VD Day.’

‘Blimey that’s fully inclusive for you.’ Anna laughed but Sophie didn’t join in. ‘Do you mean VE Day?’

‘Hmm?’ Sophie was deep in thought. ‘I don’t know if I can do this any more, Anna.’ Sophie stopped walking and Anna patted her arm.

‘You don’t mean that.’

‘I do. I really do.’

They walked in silence for a while. Sophie took in great lungfuls of fresh air. Sometimes it made things seem a bit better. She liked to imagine the park was all hers. It was looking a luscious green in the intermittent May sunshine. There were some welcome splashes of colour thanks to the pretty pink flowers of the red campion and the last of the blossom on the hawthorn. The bluebells were carpeting the small wooded area and she had to shout at Arlo not to destroy them. Instead, he started a solo game of fetch with his stick.

A bouncy Labrador joined Arlo and took hold of the other end of the stick. ‘Hey! That’s mine,’ protested Arlo, but the dog was already winning the tug of war.

‘Why is everything a battle?’ asked Sophie, with a deep sigh, and she went to intervene.

Chapter Six

Anna was pleased with the letter she’d crafted. All she needed now was an address for Maurice’s previous owner and her good deed would be done. His old address, from Maurice’s vaccination records, was her starting point. Hopefully the new occupants would have a forwarding address, or at least know the name of the nursing home he was in, if it was local.

She pulled up in front of the neat row of terraced houses and went in search of number 55. She spotted the for sale sign before the house number. Anna rang the bell just in case, but there was no answer. Now what? Number 57 looked like number 55’s glamorous friend with its double glazing and shiny front door, so she decided to knock there. No answer. She was about to admit defeat when the door of number 53 opened and Paddington Bear reversed out. At least it looked like Paddington Bear from the back – the duffel coat and hat were spot on but if the wearer had hairy toes they were secreted inside a pair of sensible brogues.

‘Excuse me,’ said Anna. ‘I’m trying to find where Mr Albert Freeman has moved to. Can you help me?’

Paddington checked the door was secure for the third time then slowly turned to face Anna. Under the fancy dress was an elderly lady who looked Anna up and down and blinked a lot. ‘Who’s asking?’

A little surprised by the gruff voice, Anna paused. ‘Sorry, I’m Anna. I’ve a letter for Mr Freeman.’ She held the envelope aloft as evidence and Paddington was distracted by it.

‘He’s moved away.’

‘Yes, I know,’ said Anna and Paddington seemed intrigued. ‘I got a cat from the rescue and it’s …’

‘Maurice!’ exclaimed Paddington as she put her bony hands to her mouth in surprise.

‘Yes,’ said Anna, with a smile. ‘I thought Mr Freeman would like to know he’s got a new home.’

Paddington drew closer as if about to share a secret. ‘I can take you to him, if you’d like? Is that your car?’ Paddington pointed to Anna’s Mini.

‘It is.’

‘Good. Let’s go then. I’ve not got all day.’

Anna learned that Paddington was a Mrs Temple and she’d lived next door to Mr Freeman for forty-four years.

‘Pull up here,’ instructed Mrs Temple after a ten-minute drive. ‘That’ll do me lovely. Thank you.’

Anna leaned forward and surveyed the row of shops. ‘Um, this doesn’t look like the nursing home?’

‘No,’ said Mrs Temple with a chuckle, and her many chins jiggled happily. ‘This is my optician. You want the turning back there on the left – it’s just up there. Bye!’ And Mrs Temple slammed the car door.

Anna smiled – she had to admire her cheek. She turned the car around and followed Mrs Temple’s directions. A large painted sign informed her she had arrived at The Cedars although there were no trees in sight.

Stepping inside it was as she’d expected: homely with a strong smell of detergent. Nobody seemed to be manning the reception desk so Anna felt it was acceptable to have a little wander about. She figured it was okay as she just needed to hand the letter to someone and she’d go. She was drawn to the sound of a television and as she reached the door, an efficient-looking woman wearing some sort of uniform was coming out. ‘Hello there. Are you looking for someone?’

‘Yes, Mr Freeman,’ said Anna, ‘but I just need to hand in …’

‘You’re in luck,’ she said, reopening the door. ‘Bert, you’ve got your first visitor.’ Anna wanted to explain to the carer that she was delivering a letter, but she was gone.

An elderly man turned his head half-heartedly towards the door. Bert didn’t appear thrilled to have a visitor. If anything, he looked quite concerned. He was sitting in a large wingback chair and he leaned forward as Anna entered the room, narrowing his eyes sharply as he scrutinised her. It was a large square room with high ceilings and a long redundant fireplace. Too many armchairs had been squeezed in and all were attempting to point at the television. Each chair was occupied, mostly by a sleeping resident, but those who were awake watched Anna with great interest.

‘Hello, I’m Anna.’ She moved nearer to Bert and wished there was somewhere for her to sit down and be slightly less conspicuous. Bert didn’t take his eyes off her. ‘I popped in to give you this,’ she said, presenting him with the letter.

‘I don’t know anyone called Anna,’ said Bert, ignoring the letter in Anna’s outstretched hand. She placed it on the arm of his chair.

‘No, you don’t, but the letter explains everything.’

‘Seeing as you’re here, why don’t you explain everything?’ asked Bert, sinking back into the armchair, his face dour.

‘Okay.’ Anna took a breath. ‘I just wanted you to know that Maurice has got a new home and he’s very happy.’

Bert sat forward abruptly. ‘Are you from the cat prison?’

Anna was taken aback by Bert’s turn of phrase. ‘No, I’m not from the cat rescue. I’m the person who’s given Maurice a new home.’ Anna finished with her warmest smile. The old woman next to Bert had woken up and she was leaning forward too as she fiddled with her hearing aid.

‘You took my cat?’ Bert’s voice was rising.

‘Well, I chose him,’ said Anna, struggling to maintain her smile. This was uncomfortable and unexpected.

‘They had no right to let you take him. He’s my property!’ Bert’s pale face swiftly coloured up as his volume increased.

Within seconds everyone in the room was awake and a whistling broke out from another nearby hearing aid. Anna felt the elderly eyes all fixed on her. ‘But when you moved in here, you signed him over to the rescue.’ Anna liked to stick with the facts; it was frequently the best policy and she hoped it would work now.

‘This is temporary. I’m not staying here. When I go home, Maurice is coming with me.’

‘Who’s Maurice?’ asked the old lady next to Bert.

‘My cat,’ said Bert and Anna together. Bert ground his teeth together and Anna suspected they weren’t his own.

Anna reached for the envelope. ‘There’s a photo of Maurice I thought you’d like to see. He’s in his favourite place on the …’

‘His favourite place is with me,’ said Bert, folding his arms very deliberately and glowering at Anna.

She thought for a moment. For one thing, she didn’t know if Bert had all his marbles, but what she did know was that his house was up for sale and the cat was legally hers. ‘Okay, how about this? I’ll look after Maurice at my place until you’re ready to go home?’

Bert squinted at her and she wasn’t sure if that was progress or not. ‘What will that cost me?’

‘Nothing. He was unhappy at the rescue centre and he’s happy now. It doesn’t make sense to move him again. Agreed?’

‘How will I get in touch with you when I want him back?’

Anna fumbled on this question and blurted out, ‘I’ll come back and see you, and you can tell me then.’

‘Hmm,’ was all Bert muttered. He broke his stare for the first time and looked around the room. ‘What are you lot gawking at?’ There was lots of shuffling and one loud fart before most of the residents pretended to go back to sleep. Bert’s tone changed. ‘And you promise you’ll come back … Anna?’

‘Cross my heart, Bert,’ said Anna, and she meant it.

One sunny morning Sophie joined Anna for her walk across the park to the bus stop. ‘To what do I owe this pleasure?’ asked Anna, pleased to see her friend.

‘The Kraken is having the kids because it’s a teacher training day and I thought I’d avoid the hellish parking for a change … oh, and I’d like to spend some time with my best friend.’

‘Excellent,’ said Anna, breathing in the May air full of the dewy scent of the lilac bushes.

‘And I wanted to have a chat.’ Anna wondered where this was going. ‘I think I have a crush on Hudson,’ said Sophie.

‘What?’ asked Anna, with a half laugh.

‘Don’t laugh, I mean it,’ said Sophie, getting teary. ‘I’m thinking about him all the time. If he talks to me I get all hot and flustered like I did when I was fourteen and Stephen Bethel used to sit next to me in Geography.’

‘That’s your hormones playing tricks.’

‘But it’s all the time, Anna. And I keep dreaming about him.’ Her eyes wandered off to somewhere near the pond. ‘It’s great stuff. Really sexy. If I could film my dreams I’d make a fortune …’

‘La, la, la, not listening,’ chanted Anna, putting her fingers in her ears until Sophie stopped talking.

‘I thought you’d understand.’ Sophie’s bottom lip wobbled.

‘Really? Me? I can’t even bring myself to like Hudson, let alone drool over him. Plus, he’s a gay man in a committed relationship.’

‘But you’re my friend.’ Sophie coughed to disguise the choke of emotion.

Anna gave her arm an affectionate pat. ‘Yes, and you are mine. Though Dave’s my friend too. How would he feel if he knew about this?’

‘I can’t help my dreams. And even if I told Dave that I fancy Hudson, he wouldn’t be bothered because who’s going to fancy me.’

‘You’re gorgeous.’

‘So’s Hudson. He’s perfect, isn’t he?’

‘I’m not keen and he definitely doesn’t like me. Yesterday he did a coffee run and I swear he missed me out on purpose. And then he didn’t tell me the risk review meeting was cancelled …’

‘It’s just you. Even the witches like him,’ said Sophie. Silvie and Janey were renowned for their bitchy comments and therefore known as the Witches of East Wing.

‘I heard he brought in Marks and Spencer’s biscuits. They’re easily bought that pair.’

They walked up the path to the main park gates and the bus stop and Anna noted the multitude of dog roses in bloom, as they passed. She let out a giant yawn.

‘Don’t,’ said Sophie following suit.

‘Sorry, someone kept me awake playing with his balls half the night.’

‘Tell me about it. Dave’s the same,’ said Sophie and they both burst out laughing.

After a good natter to Sophie on the bus Anna was feeling optimistic, but the sight of Roberta at her desk diluted her cheerfulness somewhat.

‘Morning, Roberta,’ she said as she approached.

‘Are you a feminist, Anna?’

Anna sensed a trick question but could only answer honestly. ‘Ye-es,’ she said cautiously.

‘You don’t sound very sure?’

‘I believe in people being treated as individuals regardless of gender.’

Roberta’s nodding indicated she approved of this response. ‘Apparently someone has complained that the central heating is set at a sexist temperature.’

Anna blinked slowly. ‘And what temperature would that be exactly?’

‘Cold enough for things to be noticed through material,’ said Roberta, her demeanour and voice mimicking a schoolteacher.

‘Nipples,’ mouthed Karl behind her back and Anna had to concentrate hard not to smirk.

‘I see. I guess it can be a bit chilly but I wouldn’t have called it sexist,’ said Anna, hoping that would suffice.

‘Okay. If you’re sure it’s not an issue,’ said Roberta. ‘Ladies don’t start fights, but they can finish them,’ she added, with a tip of her head. Anna was squinting with the pressure of trying to work out what the hell she meant. ‘It’s a quote,’ explained Roberta.

‘Right.’ Anna had no idea which feminist icon would have said that but thankfully Roberta was about to enlighten her.

Roberta leaned in close. ‘Marie.’ Anna was still looking blank. ‘From The Aristocats.’

‘Of course,’ said Anna, trying hard to ignore Karl’s huge grin.

It was another quiet night in for Anna as, now Maurice’s period of confinement had ended, she found she was often on her own once it got dark. He was a proper night owl and the living room window was working well as his exit route. It was too small for a human to fit through, and meant she didn’t need to get a cat flap fitted until it started to get colder. She flicked through the telly channels again but decided there was still nothing worth watching so she switched it off. She may as well go to bed and read. She had settled into life without Liam but it didn’t mean she had got used to being on her own.

Anna picked up her mobile phone and jumped slightly as it sprang into life. She was a little embarrassed about how pleased she was to get a message, whoever it was from. She looked at the screen in anticipation. It was a number she didn’t recognise, so she flicked to the text expecting to see some random marketing message but she was wrong.

It read: Can’t wait to get down and dirty with you tomorrow. Looking forward to catching up over lunch too. C.

Anna stared at the message; clearly it was a wrong number. She crafted what she hoped was a suitable reply: Hi, C. Thanks for the offer but I think you’ve got the wrong number.

Anna was sitting huddled over the phone waiting for a reply. She’d had wrong phone calls before but never a text. It was quite funny really – she wondered how much the other person would cringe when they realised their mistake. After five minutes she felt ridiculous for sitting with her phone in her hand, waiting for a reply from a wrong number. Why would they respond? They’d resend the message to the right person and be a little more careful when texting next time. Then the familiar little beeps came and she hurriedly opened the message: How embarrassing. I’m so sorry, please forgive me. I hope I’ve not offended you. C.

Anna wondered if C might actually be a girl, because how many men would bother to respond? She suspected not very many. But seeing as they’d been nice enough to reply, she sent them another text: Not a problem, I’m pretty resilient. Enjoy your date tomorrow.

A response came straight back this time: Pretty and resilient is an interesting combination. Tomorrow not as exciting as it sounds. Helping a friend clean their patio. C.

It was a comedy text to a friend, a clever play on words, not a sexy text to a lover as she’d first thought. She was intrigued as to who this mystery texter was. Though she was keen to text straight back, she calmed herself down and went and put the kettle on and did a little bit of analysis. She really did need to get out more if this was the most excitement she’d had in her life since they’d added Peanut KitKats to the vending machine at work. Anna still didn’t know if the mystery texter was a man or a woman – or worse still, a teenager. Loads of kids had mobiles these days. She gave a little shiver; that was a creepy thought.

Part of her mind had already wandered off in the opposite direction and conjured up a tall handsome stranger, sitting in a large glass-fronted office laughing at the text exchange. He had no wedding ring and bore a striking resemblance to Ryan Gosling – well, it was her fantasy after all.

Anna was cupping her tea and thinking about whether she should reply when another much longer text appeared: Hi Tim, just did something funny – texted wrong number and got cute messages back. Worried it’s a big hairy bloke! See you at 10 tomorrow, mate. Text me postcode for your new place. I don’t know my way around Selly Oak. Did you get the festival tickets? C.

It was as if he’d read her mind, as she could now safely assume he was male and clearly not ancient if he was going to a festival. And he’d called her cute – well, he’d called her texts cute. And he was most likely local if he was going to Selly Oak tomorrow. This was getting interesting. She had to reply to this message, because surely it would be rude not to. After all, she had to inform ‘C’ that Tim wouldn’t have received his text …

Hi, C. Sorry, you got the wrong number again. Nice to text with you though, and enjoy the patio cleaning. A. There. That was okay – informative, and not too forward.

By the time she’d brushed her teeth there was another message: Dear A. Once again, soooo sorry. I am clearly a sausage-fingered idiot. Apologies! I’ll let you know how the patio cleaning goes. C :-)

Anna placed her phone on the bedside table and turned off the light. She quickly drifted off to sleep with the tiniest of smiles on her lips, a large cat on her feet, and just the faintest glimmer of something in her heart.

Chapter Seven

Anna had a spring in her step the following morning as she picked up her things and went in search of the room for her first meeting of the day. At least she wouldn’t be alone with Hudson; she was able to handle him better if other people were involved. Maybe she needed them there to help her keep her annoyance levels in check. She knew she sometimes overreacted but it was only because she was passionate about getting it right. She found the room and checked it was the right one because it was really small. She knew there were loads of people on the invite list. Her smugness blossomed at the thought of Hudson having to apologise to everyone for the tiny room as they all tried to cram inside. She was going to enjoy this meeting. She picked her spot on the far side of the table so she could see his reaction when he came in, and settled herself down.

She was making some notes when Hudson arrived. ‘Hey, Anna. How’s your day going?’

Why did Americans ask that? Nobody did in this country. At best you’d ask someone at the end of the day, but never earlier – and who was interested anyway?

‘Great thanks.’ About to get a whole lot better when everyone sees your room cock-up, she thought. ‘How about yours?’

‘Swell, thanks. Right, let’s get started.’

Anna did a double take as Hudson started tapping on the large telephone in the middle of the table. Anna scrabbled through the meeting notes. It was a bloody conference call; she hadn’t spotted that. If she’d realised, she could have dialled in from her desk. Now she was stuck in a broom cupboard with Hudson for the next hour, but her resolute Britishness meant that she wasn’t going to leave. She’d have to stick it out. ‘Hudson and Anna,’ said Hudson, when the system prompted him for his name. As he was opening the call there was a rush of everyone’s name and Anna didn’t have time to tick everyone off the invite list.

‘Hey, everyone, thanks for joining us this morning. Is Todd on the call?’

There was a very long pause where they could hear breathing, general office background noise and the odd cough. ‘Okay, no Todd, let’s—’

‘Yes. Hi, Hudson. I’m here,’ said Todd, rather belatedly. Hudson and Anna both looked skywards.

‘Great. Thanks, Todd. Can I ask everyone to go on mute to cut out the background noise?’ There was a series of clicks and the phone went eerily quiet.

‘Raj, please can you give us an update on the finance meeting you attended?’ asked Hudson. He looked over at Anna who was jotting notes. She paused and they waited for Raj to speak. Nothing. Total silence. Anna checked the names she had managed to tick off: Raj was ticked off. He was definitely on the call. She shrugged at Hudson. He unmuted their end and started to speak. ‘Raj, are you okay to give us an—’

‘Sorry, I must have been on mute,’ said Raj, followed by an embarrassed chortle. Raj proceeded to run through far too much detail about the very dull finance meeting he’d attended, which had no consequences for their project at all. When Raj finally stopped talking Hudson thanked him and moved on. ‘Carol, Programme Office update please.’ Hudson muted their phone and leaned back.

A loud bark came from the phone making them both laugh nervously. ‘Buster! Quiet. Mummy’s on a conference call,’ said Carol, who was working from home. ‘Hi, everyone, yes. We’ve set up the filing system on the shared drive …’ But Buster was determined to be heard and continued to bark all the way through her update. The only pause was when ‘Todd has left the meeting’ was announced by the automated call system and closely followed by ‘Todd has joined the meeting.’

‘You okay, Todd?’ asked Hudson.

‘My phone keeps cutting out. I don’t know what …’

‘Todd has left the meeting.’

‘Does anyone have any questions or anything they’d like to add?’ asked Hudson.

A jumble of voices all spoke at once, followed by a round of apologies and lots of people politely repeating, ‘No, after you.’ When everyone did exactly the same again Hudson stepped in. ‘Okay. Steve, you had a question?’

‘Yeah, hi, Hudson. The workshop next week, is lunch provided?’

Anna slapped her forehead with her palm and Hudson spontaneously laughed at her. ‘I’m not sure Steve, but I’ll check and get back to you.’

‘Who else had a question?’

There was a long pause. ‘Hi, Hudson, it’s Paul. It’s okay, I was going to ask about lunch too.’

‘Okay, any questions that weren’t about lunch?’ asked Hudson and was met with a bark from Buster. ‘Okay, if there’s nothing else. We’ll catch up again on Wednesday. Thanks, everyone. Bye.’

A series of disembodied voices said bye in quick succession.

‘Todd has joined the meeting.’

Hudson hit the end-call button and let out a sigh as he slumped back in his seat. ‘Sometimes, things are a lot harder than they need to be,’ he said and Anna had to agree.

‘Night night, Mummy,’ said Arlo, looking perfectly angelic. Sophie’s heart melted with love for her first born. He was a monster sometimes but she loved every inch of him more than she could ever explain.

‘Night night, darling.’ She kissed the top of his head and reversed from the room. She’d almost made it to the door when he spoke and her heart sank. All she wanted was to sit down and put her feet up. She’d had a crappy day at work as she’d managed to forget to go to a meeting and send out the wrong documents twice.

‘Mummy?’

‘Yes,’ she said, being as patient as she could be when she’d been on the go for fifteen hours, her back ached like she’d been carrying cement around all day and her feet were feeling puffy.

‘I’m looking forward to animal day tomorrow. Night night.’

Sophie froze. ‘Animal day? What’s that?’ It couldn’t be World Book Day – they’d done that a few weeks ago.

‘I need a costume of my favourite endangered animal. Can I be a dinosaur? They’re endangered aren’t they?’

‘Costume? Animal?’ said Sophie, struggling to form a sentence.

Arlo giggled. ‘Mummy, you’re funny. Costume. Animal,’ he mimicked. His expression changed to deadly serious. ‘It has to be better than Willoughby Newell’s. He’s coming as a turtle.’

‘You get some sleep. Mummy will sort it out.’

Within minutes Sophie was rifling through Arlo’s school bag. At the bottom was a screwed-up piece of paper smeared in mud and some unidentifiable sticky substance. She unfolded it and speed-read the letter. ‘Argh!’ Arlo was right. He needed to wear a costume to school, a costume that represented one of the many endangered animals on the planet as part of Climate Change and World Awareness Week. How could schools do this to parents? Where was she meant to get an endangered animal costume that was better than Willoughby sodding Newell’s turtle at this short notice?

Dave’s face peered around the living room door. ‘You all right?’

‘Arlo needs to go to school as an animal tomorrow.’ The fight was fast ebbing from Sophie as her body gave way to exhaustion and fatigue.

‘How about a monkey? He goes as that every day,’ said Dave, with a big grin. Sophie wanted to slap him.

‘It’s serious, Dave. He needs an outfit and it’s …’ she checked her watch ‘… a quarter to nine at night.’

‘Ah, don’t worry about it. I bet most of them won’t have a costume. He’ll be fine without one.’

‘He can’t be the odd one out!’ Sophie was outraged. Pictures of poor Arlo dressed in his school uniform danced through her mind, alongside ones of all his friends and Willoughby Newell sporting the best endangered species outfits money could buy. ‘You could help more, Dave.’

‘Okay. What did he wear for Halloween? Could he wear it again?’

‘He was a zombie pirate.’

Dave pulled a face. ‘Sorry. Dunno then.’ And he disappeared back to watch the television. Sophie sat on the stairs, clutching the school note, and felt like crying.

The next morning Sophie came flying into the office; her wild hair matched her eyes and the buttons on her cardigan were done up out of sync. ‘You okay?’ asked Anna, already knowing the answer.

‘No. I have been up half the night sewing.’

Anna did the thing where you open your mouth to speak but your brain is going ‘Nope, I’ve got nothing of any use in this situation.’ ‘Sewing?’ said Anna.

‘Yes, sewing. I made a polar bear costume out of an old sheet, a cardboard box and a weird furry scarf thing Kraken gave me for Christmas, which I’m sure was something she was regifting.’

‘You are such a good mum. Any photos?’ asked Anna.

Sophie fumbled with her phone and passed it to Anna. Anna studied the picture of a white mass with drawn-on claws in black Sharpie and a conical-shaped head with yogurt pots for ears. It did resemble an animal of some kind but she would have struggled to identify it as a polar bear. More like a ghostly aardvark. ‘It’s amazing,’ she said, in what she hoped was an encouraging voice.

‘I thought so,’ said Sophie, her voice changing into something akin to Linda Blair’s in The Exorcist. ‘It’s not rubbish, is it?’

‘Nooooo,’ said Anna, shaking her head firmly.

‘What’s this?’ asked Hudson, popping up at Anna’s shoulder. He started to laugh and Anna gave him a Paddington Bear stare. He turned his laugh into a cough. ‘Wow, that is the scariest Ku Klux Klan member I’ve ever seen. His hat’s slipped a bit.’

Anna failed to stifle a splutter of a laugh. ‘It’s a polar bear.’ Hudson almost pushed his face into Sophie’s phone for a second look.

‘Arlo refused to wear it. He said it was the worst polar bear in the world and it deserved to be endangered.’ Sophie looked glum.

‘Kids can be harsh critics,’ said Hudson.

‘Dave agreed with him.’

Anna feared for Dave’s safety. ‘And where is Dave now?’

‘He merrily trotted off to work leaving me with a completely naked Arlo who refused to wear anything unless it was an endangered species. I was tempted to tell him to go as he was because his life expectancy was diminishing with every second.’

‘Here, have my coffee. It’s decaf,’ said Anna, passing it to Sophie.

‘Thanks.’ She didn’t look like she meant it.

Anna hardly dared to ask how it all ended but she had to know. ‘So, what happened?’

‘He’s gone to school dressed as the Pink Panther. It’s the costume he wore for World Book Day last year. It’s too small. I had to slit the legs and arms so he looks like he’s had an Incredible Hulk moment.’

‘As long as he’s happy,’ said Anna, trying to ignore Hudson who was still chuckling behind her.

‘He freaked his teacher out when he pulled the long pink tail between his legs and waggled it at her.’ Sophie gave a weak smile. ‘That was almost worth it.’

‘Brilliant.’ Anna giggled as she pictured the scene.

‘What’s brilliant?’ asked Karl, arriving at his desk. ‘They’ve decided to introduce my idea of Naked Thursdays?’ he offered. ‘The next team event is mud wrestling? Roberta’s been abducted by Aston Villa supporters?’

‘Nope, sorry. Sophie’s son went to school as the Pink Panther,’ said Anna.

‘I already knew about that,’ said Karl, plugging his laptop back in. Both the women looked confused. ‘It’s front-page news everywhere. Bloody hell, your lives are riveting.’

‘Shut up, Karl,’ they chorused.

He held up his hands in defence. ‘Okay, okay.’ He turned to Sophie. ‘I read your outline paper. It’s really good. When this syncs …’ he pointed at the laptop ‘… there’s some feedback coming your way. Then you can update and issue it.’

‘Thanks,’ said Sophie, viewing him as if he were an unexploded bomb.

‘What? Don’t look at me like that. I can do a good impression of a sensible person, you know. I’ve got a certificate and everything.’

Silvie wandered over and they all tried to appear as if they were busy. ‘Can we move our three o’clock to four?’ she asked Karl.

He checked his diary.

‘Have you lost weight?’ Silvie asked Anna.

Anna was standing next to Sophie and she immediately straightened. ‘Um, no. I don’t think so.’ Anna’s size was fairly static thanks to her running.

‘Actually, I think it’s just where you’re standing,’ said Silvie, eyeing Sophie.

Karl coughed. ‘Yep, no problem moving the meeting. I’m loving your tan, Silvie.’ Silvie beamed at him and sauntered off.

‘You are such a liar,’ said Anna, once Silvie was out of earshot.

‘What? It’s not a lie. Orange happens to be my favourite colour,’ said Karl, putting his hand to his chest as if saying an oath.

Sophie was looking puzzled. ‘Did that cow imply I was fat?’

Chapter Eight

Roberta managed to intercept Anna first thing by thrusting a scribbled note at her and demanding she and Hudson organise a team event, and that it should be treated as their absolute priority, thus sending Anna’s day immediately into a tailspin. Despite her best efforts she had failed to track Hudson down, which was typical, so she had ended up doing most of the legwork herself.

Anna checked her phone whilst walking back to her desk after lunch and found a text: Hi, A. How is your week going? Any more texts from strange men? C. It made her smile involuntarily.

She replied: Hi, C. Week going okay. How about yours? pressing send and then instantly regretting it. His text had been witty whilst hers was simply dull – and who was she kidding anyway? Her week wasn’t okay, it was utter rubbish.

As she sat down her phone pinged again: My week is going great, just bought a new car.

Anna replied without engaging her brain: Exciting! My week has been rubbish by comparison.

The response was almost instant: You need cheering up. Anything I can do? C. Anna smiled again. He was quite sweet really, for a total stranger.

No, but thanks for asking. Got to go, I’m at work.

Anna was aware someone was watching her and she looked up suddenly. Hudson was right behind her. ‘Did you want something?’

‘Nope.’ Hudson slunk back into his desk and started to work. Anna slid her chair over to him.

‘Actually, Roberta was looking for you.’

Hudson glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Roberta’s office.

‘On top of this project we’re also managing a team event – like an away day thingy.’

‘Another clear brief from Roberta I’m guessing,’ he said, with a wry smile. It was a lovely smile, warm and reassuring.

Anna blinked and pulled her concentration back to the matter in hand. ‘Yep, there’s virtually no budget and she’s expecting lots from it. I’m thinking something outdoors and a hostel in the Peak District.’

‘Sounds perfect.’

‘Really?’ Anna couldn’t read if he was serious or not.

He nodded. ‘I’ve been once for a wedding but the scenery was beautiful and who doesn’t like bunking up?’

Anna’s eyebrows did a little jump. ‘Some people object to … bunks.’

‘Not me.’

No, she thought studying his perfect bone structure, your partner is a very lucky man. ‘There’s not much choice as it has to happen next week apparently. Roberta’s usual forward-planning skills.’

Hudson’s expression had changed. ‘Or it’s just been dumped on her.’ He narrowed his eyes. ‘Did she give any clue as to what had triggered it?’

Anna thought for a second. ‘Came from above she said.’

Hudson pouted. ‘I’m sure you’ve thought the same but I’ll voice it anyway. Sounds like something might be going on. Why would you suddenly send the whole team out of the office when they’ve just started a critical project? Makes no sense.’

Anna was nodding. She hadn’t queried it at all, but now she was. He was right, it was very odd. She tried to put it to the back of her mind and fired off an email to Roberta with the details of what she’d discovered.

Anna was mentally planning what she was going to have for dinner when Roberta appeared at her desk. ‘Bunk beds in Derbyshire – is that the best you could do?’ Anna felt something deflate inside and took a deep breath to try to pump it back up.

‘On this small a budget and at such short notice, yes, it is. But it will provide us with a series of team challenges, which I believe will help us to bond as a team and it’s not too far away, which is a bonus.’ Anna’s voice went up at the end. She waited for Roberta’s reaction.

Roberta snorted her derision. ‘I’m not sleeping in bunk beds.’

‘Ah, no, but …’ She hated herself for stumbling over her words. ‘You didn’t say you were coming.’

‘Aren’t I part of the team? Aren’t I, in fact, an integral member of the team?’

It was hard to disagree without it being a career-limiting conversation. ‘Of course you are, but I assumed you’d be too busy.’

Roberta’s perfectly pencilled eyebrows moved up a degree. ‘A fair assumption but no, on this occasion, I will be there. I’m keen to see how everyone performs.’ Things were getting more bizarre.

‘Great, there’s a pub in the village. I’ll book you a room there.’

‘En suite,’ said Roberta, and she strode back to her office.

Anna’s instinct was to run to Hudson and share what she’d learned as it added more fuel to his theory that something didn’t add up about the team event but that would make her look desperate to please him and she wasn’t.

It was warming up outside and Anna and Sophie decided to take their lunch in the square. A simple sandwich seemed better when eaten in the fresh air as long as you could keep the pigeons away long enough to enjoy it.

‘Here,’ said Anna, handing Sophie her phone. ‘This guy sent me a text by mistake.’ Anna wasn’t sure what the sensation was in her gut as she watched Sophie’s expression change as she read the series of messages from the mystery person known only as C. There was definitely a hint of excitement and more than a smattering of intrigue about him and the fact he had bothered to message her again.

‘Bloody hell, Anna. Who is it?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘But who do you think it is?’

‘It’s a random stranger.’ Anna ate the last of her sandwich.

Sophie tilted her head. ‘Or it could be a celebrity who wants to remain anonymous.’

‘Not likely,’ said Anna. ‘And if it is, knowing my luck it’s one of the Jedwood twins.’

‘No, think about it. It could be a famous actor or reality star.’

‘Who happened to stumble across my number because it’s like their friend’s? I think it’s just some guy. But he seems kind of sweet.’ Anna felt a flutter of something and almost rolled her eyes at herself. What was she doing? She was sworn off men. Especially ones she’d never met and who were incapable of sending a text to the right person. The last thing she needed was to get caught up in another fruitless relationship. She needed to focus on being an individual, not part of a couple, and on furthering her career because she knew that wouldn’t let her down. She had a plan and she was going to stick to it, but there was no denying that with a mystery texter and some innocent flirtation, she could do both. She was keeping her promise to herself and she also had the opportunity for safe flirting by text. Did it even have a name? Flexting perhaps? And if at any point she wanted to stop she could block his number. Yes, it was the best of both worlds.

‘What if it’s someone you know?’ said Sophie.

Anna considered this. ‘I don’t think Liam’s that creative.’

‘Mystery admirer?’

‘Possibly.’

‘Are you going to meet him?’ Sophie looked keen.

‘No. It’s just a wrong number.’ But there was something fun about having a little fantasy about who C was and what he might be like, though that was as far as she was prepared to go because this was all from the safety of her own home and she could block him at any point it felt like he was getting serious or turned out to be a crazed lunatic.

‘What if it’s fate?’ Sophie went all gushy.

‘You think C is short for Charming, as in Prince Charming?’

‘You never know. Stranger things have happened. You read about things like this all the time in magazines. People who meet the love of their life in the frozen fish section of the supermarket or get run over by them.’

‘Really?’ Anna was pulling a disbelieving face. She wouldn’t be keen to marry someone who had attempted to run her over, even if it was accidental.

‘Oh, yeah. It’s quite common,’ said Sophie, taking a chunk out of her sandwich. Anna doubted that was true. ‘What if he’s this gorgeous millionaire who wants to whisk you away on his private jet to his castle?’

‘Then I’m wondering what he’s doing cleaning his mate’s patio.’

Sophie openly huffed and handed Anna her phone back. ‘True. Shame. It would be nice to have someone take you away from all this.’ She gestured randomly.

‘How’re things with Dave?’

‘He’s still Dave.’ She said it like she was apologising. ‘He thinks he’s dying because he’s got a cold at the moment. Last night it was like trying to sleep next to someone experimenting with a chemistry set. And he managed to sleep through Petal having two night terrors and Arlo coming into our bedroom at four to ask how many sleeps until Santa comes. Then he woke me switching on the bathroom light too loud this morning.’

‘How do you switch a light on too loud?’

‘I don’t know, but he does it all the time. Then he’s in there for ages and afterwards it’s like sleeping in a public toilet.’

They both pulled faces as if they could smell something unpleasant. ‘Not nice,’ said Anna, who had long wanted an en suite but was filing this for future reference.

‘He said he’d book the train tickets for our trip to London on Saturday but he forgot. He promised to start sorting the garden out. But apparently some new shooty killy game came out, which has kept him busy. Still, I’m looking forward to getting away for a couple of days on the team jolly. Dave won’t know what’s hit him.’ Sophie seemed to perk up.

‘Don’t get too excited. There wasn’t much available at such short notice. I’ve found a farm who have converted a barn into hostel-style accommodation and they teach dry-stone walling but I think we can make the best of it.’

‘Sounds like fun.’

Anna felt they would have to add quite a bit of alcohol to get it to that level but she was willing to give it a go, though she was more concerned about the motivations of senior management in sending them all off on something like this – now Hudson had sown that particular seed.

‘I hope I can cope with being in a confined space with Hudson,’ said Sophie, looking both worried and dreamy-eyed.

‘You still having improper thoughts?’ Anna tried hard to hide a smirk. It was funny to think of her having a crush on someone at her age.

‘Stop it.’ Sophie gave her a playful swipe. ‘All the time. If anything it’s getting worse. I can barely take in what he’s saying because I’m concentrating hard not to grab him and snog his face off.’

Anna’s expression conveyed her alarm. ‘Bloody hell. Really?’

‘Really,’ said Sophie, sounding miserable. ‘I wish I could stop it but I’ve tried and I can’t. I’ve tried imagining him sitting on the loo and kissing his partner … not at the same time … but even at the same time, nothing works. Whenever I’m near him there’s this electricity, this magnetic attraction. He helped me put my coat on the other day and I was actually aroused.’ Sophie was deadly serious.

‘You poor thing. Did you go home and shag Dave’s brains out?’

Sophie recoiled. ‘Goodness, no. Why would I do that?’

‘Because he’s your husband.’

‘But it’s not him who’s turning me on,’ she said and her face returned to its disappointed resting state.

Anna went off to visit Bert. She stopped at the paper shop on the way to pick up some toffees and a big Sunday paper; she wasn’t sure if he was a broadsheet kind of person but she didn’t want to look like a cheapskate.

‘Hello again,’ said the carer, coming through reception. ‘Bert’s in his room.’ She pointed back up the corridor.

Anna walked past the television room, past two closed doors with the number five and six on before coming to one with an open door. She gave a quick squiz round the door, unsure of what she’d find. Bert was sitting in an armchair staring out of the window.

‘Hello, Bert, I brought you a paper,’ said Anna, walking in and plonking the paper on his lap and herself on what she supposed was a footstool.

Bert glanced at Anna and then at the paper on his lap. ‘Didn’t think I’d see you again.’

‘I said I’d come back. And I got you these,’ she said, putting the toffees onto a small table in front of him. He squinted at them and then returned to looking out of the window.

‘How’s Maurice?’

‘He’s great,’ said Anna with gusto, ‘but he’s still missing you,’ she added hastily.

Bert’s shoulders jumped as he gave a short laugh. ‘I bet he’s forgotten me.’

‘I doubt it. Maurice forgets nothing. I gave him his food on a saucer because his two bowls were both in the dishwasher and now he expects every meal on a china saucer. You do something once and that’s it.’

Bert chuckled. ‘You’re right. If he likes something he expects it all the time. I once left a cardigan on the sofa and that was his bed for weeks.’

Anna got out her phone. ‘I’ve got some more photos of him,’ she said, flicking to the right pictures and handing the phone to Bert. He returned to looking out of the window. ‘It’s all right, I’ll remember him how he was.’ Anna switched off her phone and put it back in her pocket.

‘Has he brought you any presents yet?’ asked Bert. There was a twinkle in his eye.

‘No. He’s not a bird catcher is he?’ Anna was enjoying watching the birds flitting in and out of the park while she had her morning coffee; she didn’t like the thought of having to deal with any in kit form.

‘No, he doesn’t catch birds. He brings in other things. The occasional mouse.’ Bert looked off into the distance again and Anna checked her watch; it was too soon to leave without seeming rude. She surveyed the room. It was nice enough but there didn’t appear to be anything personal in it. The picture she had given him of Maurice was propped up on his bedside cabinet next to a black and white wedding photo. ‘Is that you?’ she asked, nodding at the photo.

‘Is what me?’

Anna got up to have a closer look. ‘This photo of a strapping young groom and his beautiful bride.’ She studied the two beaming faces staring back at her. From the style of clothes they were wearing she guessed it was probably the Sixties.

‘Me and my Barbara. Tenth of July nineteen fifty-nine.’

‘She’s beautiful, Bert.’

Bert sniffed. ‘She was that. No one like her.’

‘Can I ask what happened?’ asked Anna, replacing the picture and sitting back on the stool.

‘Barbara died four years ago. We were doing the washing up and she said she had a headache. I teased her for trying to shirk doing the drying up – she hated doing the drying. She went for a lie-down. I finished off and made her a cup of tea and when I took it into her … she was gone.’ Anna swallowed and Bert let out a sigh. ‘Massive brain haemorrhage apparently – she wouldn’t have known much about it.’

Anna reached out and patted Bert gently on the hand. He flinched at the touch but let his hand rest beneath hers just for a moment, before pulling it away. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said, meaning it.

‘Our Maurice called for her for days, wandered the house making this pitiful meow, because he couldn’t understand where she was. He was her cat really. She was a big Bee Gees fan you see,’ he said, glancing at Anna, his eyes weighed down with sadness.

Anna nodded. ‘Maurice Gibb.’

‘Yes,’ said Bert, revealing a proper smile. The stories of Barbara, him and Maurice flowed until Anna checked her watch and an hour had gone by.

‘Bert, I need to make a move, but I’ll see you next week. Is there anything in particular you’d like me to bring? Different paper, biscuits?’ She almost offered something alcoholic but guessed that wouldn’t be allowed.

‘Assuming you can’t smuggle in a Guinness, I’d love a proper coffee. Americano with hot milk they call it. Sounds fancy but tastes bloody marvellous. They have instant here and it’s not the same. Here, let me pay you for it.’ He put his hand onto the table next to him and picked up a coaster and then put it down again quickly. ‘Now, where did I put my wallet?’

‘It’s okay, Bert, you can pay me when I bring it. Take care of yourself.’

‘Say hello to Maurice for me.’

‘I will,’ she said and she left. Bert had another feel about on the table for his wallet; he reached a bit further forward and his fingertips touched the familiar soft worn leather. He moved it to where he wanted it, folded the newspaper and put it in the bin next to him.

‘Bert,’ said Anna as she put her head back around his door. ‘Do you take sugar?’ She spotted the newspaper in the bin.

‘Uh. No, thanks,’ said Bert, clearly taken by surprise.

Anna paused for a moment, thinking. Pieces of a puzzle she had spotted before slotted into place. ‘You can’t see, can you?’

Bert sighed and continued to stare towards the window. ‘Nope, not much. I’m not totally blind but it’s not far off.’ His voice hardened. ‘That’s why they put me in here, said I wasn’t coping.’

‘And were you?’ asked Anna, returning to the footstool.

‘I like you; you ask the questions others want to avoid. And, no, towards the end I had a couple of falls. But one of those was because some stupid home help cleaner put the kitchen bin in the wrong place. That was not my fault … And I fed Maurice a tin of beef casserole.’

Anna laughed and Bert joined in. ‘No wonder he’s a fussy eater,’ said Anna, leaning over and picking the newspaper out of the bin. ‘I can stop a bit longer. Shall I read you the good bits out of the paper?’

Anna wondered if Bert’s pride would kick in but his mouth lifted at the edges. ‘That would be lovely, thank you.’

‘Headlines or sport first?’

‘Always the sport,’ said Bert, getting himself comfortable.

Anna went home smiling and feeling like she’d made a friend. Probably the oddest friendship on the planet after the lion who made friends with a baby gazelle, but a friendship all the same. She liked Bert and, since her beloved grandad had passed away a few years ago, there was a vacancy in her life for someone like him. Her mobile signalled the arrival of a message. She took a quick peek when she stopped at the traffic lights: Hiya, A, How’s your weekend going? C.

Anna texted a quick reply: All good thanks :-) A and she pressed send quickly as the lights changed. Just as she was about to berate herself for not asking a question back, the phone started to ring and Anna felt a rush of excitement and something else: was it trepidation? She hadn’t banked on C calling her. She pressed the button on her steering wheel so she could answer and drive at the same time. ‘Hello,’ she said, her voice uncertain and cautious.

‘Hi, Anna. We thought you’d emigrated.’

‘Hi, Dad.’ Relief mixed with a little disappointment washed over her. ‘How are you?’

‘We’re fine apart from your mum spending all her time on Facebook. She says you haven’t done much recently.’ They were stalking her again.

‘I’ve been busy at work.’ Anna indicated and went around the traffic island.

‘Could you not just make some stuff up? Your mum worries.’ Anna shook her head. She loved her parents but sometimes they were a bit overwhelming.

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