‘I think you’d have heard, don’t you?’
‘And you won’t say anything to Marcella?’
‘She’s probably tougher than you think,’ said Kate. Yes, but what if she isn’t?
‘Please,’ Maddy called out, but all she heard was Kate’s laughter as she disappeared from view.
* * *
Not a lot of work was getting done when Maddy arrived at the offices of Callaghan and Fox the next day. The air was thick with hairspray, the female staff were all wearing far more make-up than usual and Sara, the receptionist, was busy brushing bronzing powder into her pillowy cleavage.
‘Blimey,’ Maddy plonked the cool-box onto the desk, ‘are we auditioning for Baywatch?’
Sara beamed; having overdone the bronzer on her face, she’d gone an alarming shade of Dale Winton.
‘God, could you see me in a bikini? But we are going to be on TV,’ she went on brightly. ‘Kerr had a call from someone at HTV this morning, asking if they could come and do a piece for a careers slot on the local news – you know, what it’s like to work in PR kind of thing. Isn’t that so cool? I’ve never been on the telly before, apart from the time I told all my friends I was off to Glastonbury Festival and they saw me on TV queuing up with my mum for The Antiques Roadshow. Which didn’t do wonders for my street cred.’ Sara pulled a face, then added chirpily, ‘But this is completely different. I won’t be wearing a sad old anorak this time, oh no! Everyone’s going to see me looking dead cool, working in a trendy PR
agency for my hunky boss. How about you, Maddy, you’re single, aren’t you? D’you think Kerr’s hunky?’
Rather sweetly, Sara had begun dropping hints like this over the last week or so; absolutely unaware that anything was going on between Kerr and Maddy, she was making unsubtle attempts to pair them up.
Since she could hardly deny that Kerr was attractive – because that would be like saying, ‘George Clooney? God, yuk, he’s got a face like a warthog’ – Maddy shrugged and smiled. ‘Kerr? He’s not bad.
I’ve seen worse.’ She tapped the cool-box. ‘Now, d’you want me to leave this in the coffee room?’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it. Ooh, I’ve just had a brainwave!’ Excitedly Sara said, ‘The TV crew are going to be here from eleven till two, so why don’t you go off now and do the rest of your deliveries, then come back with our stuff while they’re in the middle of filming. Wouldn’t that be great? Then you can be on telly too!’
Maddy pictured the scene; Marcella watching TV at home, initially repulsed by the sight of Kerr McKinnon, then boggling in disbelief as her own daughter pranced into view behind him. Oh yes, that’d do Marcella’s blood pressure the world of good. Plus, they’d have to buy a new TV set to replace the one she’d smashed.
‘I can’t.’ Maddy looked regretful. ‘I’ve got a million deliveries then Juliet needs me back at the shop. When’s it going to be shown, anyway?’
‘They can’t say for sure. Maybe tonight, maybe next week. But they’ll let us know,’ Sara said confidently. ‘I made Kerr ask, so my mum could phone everyone she’s ever met in her life.’
‘Well, I’ll definitely watch it,’ promised Maddy. ‘Is Kerr in his office?’
‘He is.’ Beneath the trowelled-on make-up, Sara’s eyes gleamed with matchmaking interest. ‘Do you want to see him?’
‘No need.’ Maddy knew she’d be seeing Kerr at seven o’clock tonight. ‘Just tell him that he wanted white bread with his BLT, but we ran out. So just for today he’ll have to make do with wholemeal instead.’
Chapter 27
Nuala was lying on the sofa devouring the book that was about to change her life when the knock came on the living-room door. As guiltily as a teenager caught with a copy of Playboy, she shovelled the paperback behind a green velvet cushion and called out, ‘Who’s that?’
‘Only me.’ Pushing the door open, Kate Taylor-Trent said, ‘Sorry, I didn’t know if you were asleep.
Dexter needs to send the VAT stuff off to the accountants. He says the folder should be in the filing cabinet in his office, and you’ll know where to find it.’
‘I’ll get it.’ Levering herself awkwardly up off the sofa with her good arm, Nuala watched as the book slithered out from under the cushion and landed with a plop on the floor. Just as well it wasn’t Playboy.
By the time she returned from the office with the relevant folder, Kate had picked up the book and was leafing through the pages.
Flushing, Nuala said defensively, ‘I know, I’m pathetic.’
‘At least you’re doing something about it. These things are huge business in the States. My flatmate had hundreds. I’ve never read one,’ said Kate.
‘It was you who made me buy it,’ Nuala confessed, blushing more deeply than ever but feeling emboldened. ‘Me?’
‘That title: Don’t Be A Doormat. I mean, look at the way Dexter treats me. I’ve got so used to it I just put up with it, but you don’t let him get away with anything. And you’re absolutely right, which is why I’m going to change.’ Grabbing the book back from Kate, Nuala found the relevant chapter headings and jabbed at them eagerly with her index finger. ‘See? Lay Down The Law! You’re A Person Too!
Startle Him To His Senses! It’s all here in black and white — I can’t believe I’ve been such a wimp.
From now on, I’m going to give as good as I get and really stand up to Dexter.’ Proudly, she straightened her spine and concluded, ‘I’m going to be just like you!’
Kate looked impressed. At that moment Dexter shouted up the stairs, ‘Hasn’t the silly bat found it yet? What is she, blind?’
Hurriedly Nuala handed over the folder bulging with VAT receipts.
‘Look, I’m only up to Chapter Seven. Anyway, I can’t do it yet. Not in front of other people.’
Kate raised an eyebrow. ‘When then?’
When indeed?
‘Later,’ said Nuala, feeling determined and panicky. ‘I promise.’
Don’t Be A Doormat was hidden inside a Marks and Spencer carrier and stuffed out of sight at the back of the wardrobe, but - Nuala could still hear it whispering to her as she and Dexter lounged on the sofa together watching TV. She’d finished the rest of the book earlier this afternoon and every word of it had made absolute, earth-shattering sense. It was like picking up the Bible and suddenly becoming a born-again Christian, without having to wear unflattering Alice bands and flat sandals.
And it wasn’t as if she had anything to lose, Nuala reminded herself; they would be redefining their relationship, that was all. Nothing but good could come of it. How did that song go? Oh yes —
‘Thinnnnngs Can Only Get Betterrrrr ...’
Crikey. Put like that, what on earth was she waiting for? ‘Do you mind?’ complained Dexter, turning up the TV. ‘Hmm?’
‘That bloody awful noise. You’re singing under your breath. Stop it.’
Thinnnngs can only get betterrrr .. .
‘I like singing,’ said Nuala.
‘Well, that’s fine, I’m glad. I just don’t like having to listen to it,’ Dexter snorted. ‘You sound like a cat being neutered.’
Don’t Let Him Diss You, Nuala recalled being instructed by one of the chapter headings in the book.
You Deserve Respect. And I do, Nuala thought indignantly, because I’m A Human Being Too, and if I want to sing, I jolly well can .. .