Life Or Something Like It. Annie Lyons
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in mind, yes? The space is huge, airy, light and filled with creative oxygen, yes? You can breathe it in and – ’
Fart out the ideas? Cat had thought. She glanced at Jesse who was lapping it all up like a newborn kitten. That was the problem with Jesse. He got so caught up in an idea that he just ran with it. She had to rein him in sometimes but he loved this. They were a good team.
‘And the glass is integral to the creative process, yes? It enables you to look in and out, yes?’
Yes, thought Cat. Windows tend to do that.
‘We’ll take it,’ said Jesse. ‘It’s perfect. Isn’t it perfect, Kit Kat? Don’t you just love it?’ he had cried, throwing out his arms and dancing her round the empty room.
She had looked into his clear green eyes, bright like a cat’s, and given in immediately. ‘I think it’s great,’ she said only telling a half-lie. For she always gave in to Jesse. She couldn’t help it. She loved him and would do anything for him. She sometimes wondered what would have happened if that ‘moment’ at university had become a reality; would they have stayed together and been happy? She couldn’t picture it somehow but that was just fine. It was academic and this set-up was perfect. They could enjoy harmless flirtation without the complication of a relationship. It was like a perpetual first date with the delicious air of hope and possibility still lingering, unlikely to be quashed by the inevitable reality of sex, feelings and all the drawbacks these threatened to bring. For a woman who kept her heart tucked far away from her sleeve and had stopped believing in romance a long time ago, it suited Cat perfectly.
She had been sorry to leave their snug little offices though. The new building was drafty and the goldfish bowl meeting rooms energy-inefficient, but it did give them a more professional air in a bid to become real players in the PR world.
‘Morning, Stan.’ Cat smiled as she strode with confidence through the revolving doors. ‘How’s Maud doing?’
‘Better thanks, Miss Nightingale. The new tablets seem to be working,’ said the septuagenarian security guard, grinning up at her from the front desk.
‘Glad to hear it. Give her my love, won’t you?’
‘I will. She said to thank you for the flowers. Said she’s going to send you in some of her jam once she’s back on her feet and up to making a pan.’
‘Tell her not to overdo it,’ said Cat with a kind smile.
‘I will. Have a good day, Miss Nightingale.’
‘Thank you.’ Despite her protestations, Stan always addressed her in this way. She rather liked it deep down. It made her feel as if they were on the set of Mad Men. She rode the lift to the second floor and rounded the corner into reception. Jenna, their vivacious receptionist, was already in full flow.
‘Hemingway Media. Good morning! Please hold, Mr Oliver; I’ll put you through. Mr Hemingway? Mr Oliver for you. You’re welcome. Hemingway Media. Good morning!’
Cat nodded hello and strode down towards her office, which was located next to Jesse’s. She could see him through the window, feet up on the desk, casual blue shirt unbuttoned at the neck, his hand running through his dark brown hair as he laughed at what the caller was saying. He grinned and waved as he spied her walking past. She smiled and made her way into her office. Despite her reservations about the building, she loved this office. It was a perfect space and she had made it her own. Her wide weathered oak desk and specially designed ergonomic chair sat in the centre of the room. Two Lissoni sofas faced each other with an Oka glass coffee table nestled in between. On one wall hung a huge photograph of Grace Kelly, which Jesse had bought for her when they moved here. Grace stared down at Cat with a look of cool indifference. She was the woman Cat admired most in the world. She’d really had it all and had even become a real-life princess. Not that Cat wanted to be a princess but she admired her style and the way she had glided through life with serenity and grace.
As Cat put down her handbag and placed her iPad into its docking station, her phone began to ring. She glanced at the caller ID before answering.
‘Andrew? Are you all right?’ Her brother rarely phoned her during the day.
‘Well actually I’ve got a bit of a problem.’
‘What is it?’
‘Work want me to fly to Brussels this afternoon.’
‘Oh?’
There was a pause. ‘And I’ve got no-one to look after the kids.’
‘Oh.’
Andrew’s words came thick and fast. ‘I wouldn’t normally ask but it’s the summer holidays and I can’t get hold of anyone. If I could drop the kids to you late afternoon, could they come and stay with you for just one night? I’m due back first thing tomorrow morning so I could pick them up from the office and then they’re going to a friend’s. I’m really sorry to ask but they can amuse themselves until you’ve finished for the day.’
Cat’s mind raced with thoughts of tonight’s dinner with Alvarro and tomorrow’s launch but she could also hear the desperation in her little brother’s voice. It was the same pleading voice he’d used as a little boy.
‘Please can Bear and me sleep in your bed with you?’ he’d asked, face forlorn, his knitted lopsided teddy tucked under his arm.
Her heart melted now as it had done then. ‘All right then. Just for tonight though.’
‘Thank you, Cat. You’re my favourite sister,’ he joked.
‘It would be more of a compliment if I weren’t your only sister but I’ll take it.’
‘I’ll drop them off around three, okay?’
‘Okay,’ said Cat with a rising sense of dread. ‘Do you think they’ll be okay with me?’
There was a pause before Andrew said, ‘They’ll love it. Staying with their Auntie Cat? They’ll be so excited.’
‘You never were a very good liar.’
‘I will give them strict instructions to be very excited then. Honestly, it’s only one night. They’ll be fine. You might even enjoy it.’
Cat doubted this very much. ‘I better get some work done. I’ll see you later.’
‘Okay and thanks again. You’ve saved my life.’
Cat picked up her office phone and dialled a number. ‘Lauren? Could you be an angel and get me a flat white with an extra shot, please. Something tells me I’m going to need it today. And could you ask Dan to pop in for a chat as soon as he’s able.’
As Cat opened the front door to her bijou terraced house later that evening, she felt uncharacteristically flustered. She had been in charge of her nephew and niece for approximately four hours and could honestly say that it had been the most stressful experience of her life.
When Andrew arrived, alarm bells started to ring. Charlie was trailing reluctantly behind whilst Ellie was pulling her father by the hand like an overexcited puppy. Andrew smiled sheepishly as he entered her office and looked apologetic as he tried to coax Charlie to speak. The boy wouldn’t even look at his aunt whilst Ellie flung her Frozen rucksack to one side and began to take in her surroundings with enthusiastic hunger. She bounced her way along Cat’s sofa as the verbal tidal wave began.
‘Ooh this is bouncy, I like it, who is that?’ she asked pointing at the picture of Grace Kelly. Cat opened her mouth to speak, failing to understand that six-year-olds don’t really have time for answers. ‘Is that your desk? It’s big isn’t it? Is that your computer? Can I touch it? Is this where you do your work?’ She had bounced her way to the end of the sofa and was now making herself comfortable on Cat’s swivel chair. ‘Whee!’ she cried whizzing round before pausing to pick up Cat’s office phone. ‘Hello? Can I have a milkshake, please?’ She giggled with delight. ‘This is