Slowly taking out her Maybelline mascara, because all that faffing about with her contact lens had left her with a bald right eye, Maddy called out, ‘In a minute. I’m busy.’
There, see? She wasn’t a pushover.
‘Come down now.’ Marcella’s tone was cajoling. ‘I’ve brought you a present.’
‘What is it?’
‘Something nice.’
Maddy finished with the mascara and gravely regarded her reflection. She loved Marcella more than life itself, but when it came to presents her taste could be inescapably dodgy. The last time she’d done this had been after Maddy had happened to mention in passing that she’d enjoyed the latest Harry Potter film.
Two days later, following a visit to Aldridge’s Auction House in Bath, Marcella had arrived home in a taxi with a moth-eaten stuffed barn owl in a glass case.
‘Come on,’ Marcella said now. ‘You’ll like it, I promise.’
Hmm. Maddy squirted on some perfume in an attempt to launch herself into more of a party mood. Her lipstick had worn off. Should she put more on, or not bother? If it wasn’t going to cheer her up, was there really any point?
No, sod it, why should she?
‘Maddy, will you get out of that bathroom!’
‘I’m BUSY,’ Maddy bellowed.
‘And I’m PREGNANT,’ Marcella shouted back up the stairs, ‘which means I win, because if I don’t get to the loo this minute, I’m going to—’
‘OK, OK.’ Conceding defeat, Maddy irritably straightened the straps on her pink dress then unlocked the bathroom door. As she stomped out onto the landing, she froze.
There he was. Kerr. Maddy blinked and clutched the banister rail, wondering if she was in fact awake.
Right, pinch yourself. Go on, pinch your arm really hard – ow.
It made no sense, but it appeared to be actually happening.
Kerr McKinnon was here in Snow Cottage, at the bottom of this very staircase, with Marcella at his side.
‘Hi,’ said Kerr, his dark eyes glinting with amusement and what looked like love.
Feeling giddy, Maddy stammered, ‘H-hi.’
Marcella said delightedly, ‘You see? I told you it was a nice surprise!’
Determined not to faint Maddy nodded. ‘Um, yes.’
Marcella tucked her arm affectionately through Kerr’s and gave it a squeeze. ‘My daughter doesn’t trust me,’ she confided. ‘I think she thought you might be another stuffed owl in a glass case.’
‘What’s going on?’ Maddy began to descend the stairs. ‘I was kidnapped,’ said Kerr. ‘From my office.’
‘By me,’ Marcella added with pride.
Kerr, propelling Marcella gently but firmly in the direction of the kitchen, said, ‘Thanks, but I think we can manage the rest of this by ourselves.’
When the kitchen door had closed behind Marcella, Maddy ventured further down the staircase.
Scarcely daring to breathe, she whispered, ‘Is it really you?’
‘Damn, don’t tell me you haven’t got your lenses in again.’ Kerr was smiling now; as she reached the last step, he took her trembling hands in his. ‘You’re about to be horribly disappointed if you thought I was Brad Pitt.’
Document Outline
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