Life Or Something Like It (19 page)

‘Treat you to a quarter of pear drops?’ asked Finn, rousing Cat from her daydream.

She stared up at him before muttering, ‘No thanks. I’m going to wait outside if that’s okay.’ He nodded and Cat could tell he was trying to read her thoughts but she turned away before he could press her further. Their communication since then had been scarce. This was partly because the needs of the children took up so much of their time but largely because Cat wanted to keep it like that. Finn was a perfectly fine human being; she didn’t dislike him, she could just see that he was one of those people who would try to make her open up and that wasn’t going to happen on this particular holiday, or indeed ever. The arrangement with the children was temporary and eventually Cat would go back to whichever version of her life remained and very likely never see Finn Thomas again.

She had wondered how they would spend their evenings after the children were in bed but Cat didn’t realise that children weren’t keen on bedtimes, particularly when a) their parents were absent and b) the bedroom arrangements were different. By the time they had settled the girls, it was gone nine o’clock and Charlie was downstairs playing on his iPad. Cat was secretly glad that he was still up.

‘I think you should go to bed soon, Charlie,’ said Finn. Cat expected a protest but Charlie merely nodded and finished his game before heading towards the door.

‘Night, Finn. Night, Cat,’ he said.

‘Night,’ they chorused.

Cat finished her glass of wine and glanced at her watch. ‘Actually, I’m really done-in. I think I might get an early night with my book,’ she said avoiding Finn’s gaze.

There was a pause before he answered. ‘Sure, good idea. Sleep well.’

Cat had gone upstairs and read for half an hour before lying awake for the next two. She couldn’t work out why she felt so agitated. This wasn’t an emotion she experienced very often, if at all. She had eventually fallen into a dreamless sleep and this morning she felt refreshed but there was a nagging sense of what lay ahead.

She heard Finn and the children traipse noisily back through the door and start to prepare breakfast. This was another process Cat was happy to avoid; the seemingly endless task of putting out all the cereals, jams, juice and so on before a plague of locusts feasted their way through whatever they fancied leaving a trail of sticky crumbs and washing-up in their wake. Still, she couldn’t stay upstairs all day. She opened the large mahogany wardrobe and considered her options. She decided to go for casual glamour, picking out one of her favourite outfits: a chiffon cover-up dress with a marble-weave design – perfect beachwear. She made her way downstairs to find everyone seated at the table tucking into cereal.

‘Morning,’ she said with a smile, receiving various grunts and squeaks in return.

‘I like your dress,’ said Daisy.

‘Thank you, Daisy.’ Cat smiled, smoothing the fabric.

Finn looked up from his cereal. ‘Very nice. Although you might need an extra layer. It gets pretty breezy on the beach.’

‘I’ll be fine, thanks,’ she replied feeling miffed. Cat looked around the kitchen and put a slice of bread in the toaster. ‘Shall I make some coffee?’ she asked Finn, retrieving a cafetière from one of the cupboards.

‘I don’t drink coffee,’ he replied.

‘Really?’ said Cat surprised. ‘I couldn’t live without it.’

‘Each to their own.’ Finn smiled, carrying his bowl to the sink. ‘Mind if I jump in the shower? I thought I might make a picnic for us to take to the beach if that’s what everyone fancies?’

‘Yay beach!’ cried Ellie.

‘Can I take my kite?’ asked Daisy.

‘Of course, sweet pea.’ Finn smiled and kissed the top of her head. ‘Beach sound good to you?’ he said, turning to Cat.

‘Absolutely. I’m happy to make the picnic if you like,’ she offered, determined to wrest some control from his grasp.

‘Great. Thanks,’ he said before heading upstairs.

As they made their way down to the beach armed with more stuff than you could possibly need for a month, let alone a day, Cat had to admit that it was good to feel the sun on her face. Of course she was more used to someone carrying her luggage and sunbeds by the pool than having to lug the worldly belongings of three children but still, there was a pleasantly cheerful atmosphere in the air as they ambled towards the seafront. People smiled when they saw Cat, Finn and the children, particularly as Ellie and Daisy were dressed rather adorably in sunhats, mini shades and shorts. They looked to Cat as if they’d stepped out of a Boden catalogue and she made them pose for a photograph once they reached the beach. It was at this moment that Cat realised with a certain amount of delight that her phone had two bars of precious signal. The day was looking up already.

The beach was busy but not overcrowded and they soon found a spot on a pleasingly wide stretch of soft yellow sand. Cat had gazed with barely concealed envy as they passed the blessed and fortunate in their beach huts. Each hut had a name and the girls delighted in reading them out loud whilst Cat peered in at the bunting-festooned luxury with comfy wicker chairs and well-loved cushions. She would have hired one in a heartbeat if she’d been on her own.

Once on the beach, they unfolded blankets and beach towels and set about making a camp. The girls squealed with joy and ran immediately down to the sea, whilst Charlie sat on a corner of the blanket, took out a sketchbook and began to draw. Cat sat down next to him, trying to arrange her dress and adopt a ladylike pose. Finn was standing at the water’s edge swinging the girls in and out of the sea, laughing at their delight.

Cat decided to seize the opportunity and took out her phone. She told herself that she was merely going to send the photo of the girls to Andrew but before long, she found herself scrolling through her Twitter feed, catching up on everything she’d missed in the past twenty-four hours. She glanced up towards Finn and the girls but he was chasing them down the beach armed with a long, stringy piece of seaweed and they were screaming with pure, unmitigated delight. A handful of other children were also joining in and soon a line of small people were pursuing him up and down the shore.
He actually is the flipping Pied Piper
, thought Cat. She looked over at Charlie who was sketching a shell he’d found.

‘That’s really good, Charlie.’ She smiled.

‘Thanks,’ he replied without looking up.

Interest shown, children checked, Cat gave herself permission to indulge in a little social media interaction.

Cat Nightingale @BlackCat Just Now

@avamwah Only place with signal in this town. Good view tho. #holiday

She attached a picture of the wide blue sky and beach-hut-speckled promenade. Moments later Ava replied.

Ava Jackson@avamwah Just Now

@blackcat Can’t see the #mojitos. Must be hell. Where’s the guy?

Cat smiled to herself. Good old Ava. Cat could always rely on her for some casual Twitter banter.

Cat Nightingale @BlackCat Just Now

@avamwah Rippling his muscles on the beach.

Ava Jackson@avamwah Just Now

@blackcat Picture please

Cat hesitated but decided it couldn’t hurt. No-one knew Finn but she would make sure the children weren’t in the picture. She held up her phone and zoomed in on his face and upper body. He was wearing a V-neck T-shirt and Cat had to concede that he did have a pleasingly muscular appearance – not too much, just the air of a man who looked after himself. If it weren’t for all that hair, he’d be worth a second look. She clicked and posted the picture to Ava.

Ava Jackson@avamwah Just Now

@blackcat Honey, if you don’t, I will.

Cat laughed and sent a reply:

Cat Nightingale @BlackCat Just Now

@avamwah All yours.

She smiled to herself and was about to indulge in a little pre-lunch sunbathing when she noticed another message arrive from Caroline Henderson, fellow PR professional and the woman who had snubbed her during her ill-advised lunch out with the children.

TheCarolineHenderson@PRGuru 3m

@BlackCat @avamwah So glad you’re taking a break, darling – wish I could! #ladyofleisure

Cat threw her phone into her bag as if she’d been burnt by it. It was a mean, bitchy world sometimes; if you were on top of it, you could brush this kind of thing off like a lion swatting a fly but Cat was starting to experience an entirely new feeling of vulnerability. The worst thing was that she didn’t know how to handle it. A shadow appeared over the sun and she glanced up, expecting it to be Finn with a jibe about her social-media slavedom. She was surprised to be looking up into Daisy’s round and eager face.

‘Will you help me with this, please?’ she asked sweetly, holding up a kite attached to a very tangled string.

‘Sure,’ said Cat, grateful for the distraction. It wasn’t as if she had anything else to do.

Daisy grinned and handed it over before sitting down, her knee resting against Cat’s. Cat wasn’t used to her personal space being invaded in this way but somehow it didn’t feel odd. Daisy was a sweet little girl, who spoke in a very deliberate, sibilant way; it was rather endearing. ‘How is your arm?’ asked Cat.

‘It’s much better, thank you.’ Daisy nodded. ‘I’m having the cast off before I go back to school,’ she added, gesturing at her left arm. ‘Do you want to sign it?’

‘I’d love to,’ said Cat. ‘Daisy, there are about a million knots in this.’

‘I know. Finn put it away like that,’ whispered Daisy confidentially.

Cat laughed. ‘Are you telling tales?’

Daisy grinned. ‘Not really. He is a bit lazy though. That’s what Mum says anyway. She tells him off, says it’s our job to keep him in line.’

‘Well he’s lucky to have you both.’ Cat smiled. With some effort, she managed to untangle the string. ‘There – all done,’ she added, handing it back to Daisy.

‘Thanks! Can we go and fly it now?’

Cat hadn’t flown a kite for years. ‘All right then,’ she said, feeling a little jump of excitement in her stomach. She followed Daisy to the water’s edge. There was a brisk breeze that whipped at Cat’s short hemline and she had to pin her dress down with one hand as she held up the kite in the other for Daisy.

‘Ready?’

‘Ready!’ cried Daisy and Cat let go. The kite shot up into the air like a greyhound out of a trap. It whipped around the sky as if it were alive, flitting manically left and right. Daisy squealed with delight.

‘Let out the string a bit,’ said Cat, suddenly remembering something her dad used to say. ‘See how high it can go.’

Daisy did as she was told and they watched the kite reach a level where it could flap happily in the breeze. ‘That is cool,’ declared Ellie joining them. ‘Can I have a go?’

Daisy passed the string to her friend without protest. ‘Thank you,’ said Ellie. ‘I’ll give it back in a minute.’

‘You got it untangled then, Dais,’ said Finn, appearing by their side.

‘Cat did it,’ said Daisy, smiling up at her.

Finn nodded at Cat as if offering his approval; it made her want to punch him but she resisted. ‘How about some lunch?’ he asked.

‘Why not?’ she replied, following him back to the blanket, hoping that her picnic would pass muster. For the most part it was a success; she forgot the cheese strings but did remember the crisps. She even included fruit. When everyone had eaten their fill, Cat lay back in the sun contemplating a post-lunch snooze.

‘How about a game of French cricket?’ asked Finn.

‘Do you have to be fun-time Frankie all the time?’ said Cat exasperated.

‘Better than being boring,’ replied Finn with a raised eyebrow.

It was a challenge and there was nothing Cat Nightingale liked more than a challenge. She stood up and looked him in the eye. ‘Bring it on,’ she said. ‘But I’m batting first.’

Finn grinned and clapped his hands together. ‘Come on, kids. This is going to be good.’

They made their way onto a patch of wet sand at the water’s edge. Cat took hold of the bat and adopted a defensive position. ‘Are you sure you want to stand like that?’ asked Finn, flipping the tennis ball into the air and catching it deftly in his right hand.

‘Quite sure,’ said Cat. The ball hit her left ankle before she knew what was happening.

‘Out!’ cried Charlie.

‘How is that out?’ protested Cat. ‘And where are my stumps?’

‘It’s French cricket, duh,’ said Ellie.

‘You have to protect your legs,’ said Daisy kindly. ‘Anyone can bowl and you can’t move. You have to spin round to stop it hitting you.’

‘Yeah, duh,’ laughed Finn.

At that moment Cat could have happily batted Finn’s head into the sea but she remained defiant. ‘Well I haven’t played for ages, so how about I get another go?’

Finn tapped a finger against his lips with teasing uncertainty. ‘Oh I don’t know. What do you think, guys?’ he said to the children.

‘I think we should let her have another go,’ said Daisy with customary sweetness.

‘Thank you, Daisy.’ Cat smiled.

‘Ohhh o-kay,’ said Ellie with emphasis. ‘But this is your last chance.’

Charlie had the ball. He threw it smartly through the air but this time Cat was ready. She swung back and smacked it squarely into the sea. ‘Finn’s ball,’ she cried with a smug grin. The children giggled and Finn was forced to wade into the sea to fetch it. He emerged with slightly damp shorts and a ruthless look on his face. He bounced lightly on his toes before delivering the sodden ball with some force. Cat managed to hit it but received a face full of wet sand for her troubles. She glared at Finn. This was war.

‘Out!’ cried Charlie holding up the ball he’d just caught.

‘Well done, mate,’ said Finn, grinning victoriously at Cat. She stuck out her tongue.

‘Auntie Cat!’ cried Ellie scandalised.

‘Told off by a six-year-old.’ Finn tutted as she walked past him to a fielding position.

‘Whevs,’ she muttered, realising how juvenile she sounded.

‘Actually, Cat, could you field on the shoreline please?’ asked Finn looking innocent. ‘Obviously the girls can’t,’ he added reasonably.