Three’s a Crowd (47 page)

Brooke leaped out of her chair, her expression apologetic and not a little fearful. ‘Catherine, Mr Barrett was hoping to get five minutes with you first thing.'

James was sitting on the clients' waiting couch, his briefcase on his lap. He nodded, ‘Good morning, Catherine.'

She just gave him a steely glare.

‘Excuse me while I check my schedule,' she said curtly, before continuing on to her office, with Brooke scampering along in her wake.

‘Close the door,' she snapped as she dropped her briefcase on her desk.

Brooke did as she was told. ‘I'm so sorry, Catherine. He just walked in. I said you weren't here, but he insisted on waiting,' she said breathlessly. ‘I didn't know what to do.'

Catherine turned around to face her. It wasn't Brooke's fault.
It's not as though she could have ordered him to leave, called security, even if that's what Catherine would have preferred. So now she had to take control.

‘It's fine, Brooke. Go back out, wait till I send for him.'

Brooke left the office, closing the door behind her. Catherine sat down in her chair, taking a deep breath to compose herself. She sat forwards and opened her briefcase, as she normally would, withdrawing the documents she needed for the day. She snapped the briefcase shut again and placed it on the floor beside her desk. What did she usually do next? Her hands were shaking as she went over her schedule. Bastard. Pushy bastard. Used to getting his own way. What if he knew something, what if he had found out about Alice, like Rachel had suggested he might? She refused to be cornered this way. She had to control the situation. She reached across the desk for the stainless-steel jug that Brooke filled with iced water every morning. It was full, she had managed to get that much right. Catherine poured herself a glass and sipped from it slowly, thinking. She would hear him out. She would not give away anything, or admit to anything. She would also be careful not to assume anything.

When she felt calm and in control again, she leaned forwards to press the button of the intercom. ‘Send Mr Barrett in, thank you, Brooke.'

She stood and walked to the door, opening it as he arrived. She nodded.

‘Catherine, thanks for seeing me,' he said.

Like I had a choice, she felt like saying, but she didn't. Instead she just said, ‘Take a seat.'

He walked past her and sat down in a chair opposite her desk, putting his briefcase down beside him and crossing his legs.

‘So, what brings you here, unannounced, James?' said Catherine as she took her seat.

‘Well, you wouldn't take my calls.'

‘And clearly you wouldn't take a hint.'

He took a breath. ‘Catherine, I'm not trying to upset you, I was only hoping to talk, catch up. It feels as though there's unfinished business between us.'

‘What makes you think that?'

‘The very fact that you won't take my calls,' he said plainly.

She bristled. ‘I'm a busy woman, James.'

‘I appreciate that, Catherine. I just . . .' he hesitated, before shaking his head. ‘My wife always says I won't leave things alone.'

Christ.

‘It didn't seem to bother you eighteen years ago,' she sniped.

He looked up then, blinking. Shit, why did she say that?

‘But it did, Catherine,' he insisted. ‘I guess that's what I wanted you to know. I mean, I was just a kid, really, we were both kids. And I know I should have got in touch, but I was upset.'

He was upset? Everything was handled for him, he should have been relieved.

‘I snapped out of it after a couple of weeks, and I tried to look for you,' he went on. ‘I waited at your school, around the bus lines, but I never saw you again.' He paused. ‘To be honest, and I don't mean to sound overly dramatic, it's always haunted me a little, Catherine.'

She couldn't breathe. She couldn't speak. What did he want from her? It didn't seem that he knew about Alice. Or did he? What the fuck was he doing here?

‘I suppose I've just always wondered if you were okay,' he said finally.

She took a moment to find her voice, and her nerve. ‘Look around you, James, I'm doing just fine. You don't need to wonder any more.'

He stared at her for a moment. Catherine stood abruptly. ‘Thanks for stopping by, but now I really have work to do.'

‘Of course,' he nodded, getting to his feet. ‘Thanks for your time.'

She went to the door and opened it. He walked towards her and put out his hand. ‘It was good seeing you again, Catherine. I expect our paths will cross in the future.'

She took his hand and shook it. ‘I expect they will. Bye James.'

He left the office and Catherine closed the door again. She walked back to her chair and sat down before her legs gave out on her.

Catherine had no sooner walked in the door than Alice was in her face.

‘Mum, you know how I asked if I could go to that under eighteens dance party tomorrow night? And you were still deciding? Well, now Sophie Veitch wants to come –'

‘Sophie's going out with you?'

‘Well, only if I'm allowed to go,' said Alice. ‘Tom said if it's okay with you, then it's okay with him.'

‘Did he now? Why didn't he just give me a call?' said Catherine. ‘I don't bite.'

‘Whatever.' Alice pulled a face. ‘I had to talk to you first anyway, or else you wouldn't have known what it was about.'

‘Okay, can you go over it for me again?' said Catherine, walking through to the kitchen.

Alice followed her, rattling off what sounded like very convoluted arrangements, while Catherine poured herself a drink. They were going to someone or other's place to get ready, and her mother was driving them to the venue, and someone else's mother was picking them up, but she would be dropping them at one of the other girl's places where they would stay the night, because they all couldn't fit at the one house.

‘Why don't you and Sophie just stay at our place?'

Alice shrugged. ‘You don't like me bringing anyone back to sleep over when you've been out.'

That was true. If there was a chance she might have a hangover the next day, Catherine didn't care to have an audience. ‘When are we talking about?'

She groaned. ‘Tomorrow night, Mum. You're going to be at Lexie's, remember?'

‘Oh, that's right,' said Catherine, half to herself, gazing across the bench at her daughter, into her eyes. Her father's eyes. That was the only thing she had inherited from him, his blue eyes. People often remarked upon it, because in every other way she was very much like Catherine. But Catherine's eyes were brown, and Alice had the same clear blue eyes that had looked at her across her desk this morning.

‘Mum?' Alice prompted her. ‘Are you all right?'

Catherine snapped out of it. ‘Yes, darling, I'm fine, it's just been a long week.'

‘So what can I tell Sophie?'

Catherine didn't have the energy to make Alice jump through hoops this time; she had just finished serving her longest grounding ever, she should give her the benefit of the doubt. She had to admit it was good to see her out of her room and excited about something. Besides, she definitely wanted to encourage this friendship with Sophie.

‘Tell Sophie yes, she can tell her father it's fine with me. But you have to make sure I have the names of the parents and the phone numbers of the various places you're going to be,' she called after Alice, who had let out a whoop as soon as Catherine had uttered the word ‘Yes', and promptly raced out of the room and up the stairs.

‘Did you hear all that, Alice?'

‘Yeah, sure Mum, no worries.'

‘What's going on, Scott?'

Lexie had just walked in the door after another exhausting day. She hadn't spoken to Scott since last night; she left the house before any of them were up this morning. She also left a list for him. If Scott thought running the house was the easy option, and he really did intend to leave things at the café up to her, then she had a right to certain expectations here at home. But she was tired and cranky. This was feeling less like a transition phase and more like they were marking out battlelines. And she really was not up to going to war.

‘Nothing's going on,' Scott answered her.

‘I can see that,' she said, looking around. The house was a mess, the kids were playing outside, and he was standing at the kitchen bench, opening a beer. He looked up.

‘What's your point?'

She took a breath. Patience. ‘Well, have you thought about dinner, and the kids have to have their baths . . .'

‘Chill, hun, it's a Friday night,' he said, taking a swig of his beer. ‘Want a drink?'

‘No thank you,' she said, dumping her bag on the bench. ‘Did you get the shopping done?'

‘Nah,' he said, turning to flick his bottle top into the bin, so he missed the look of shock on Lexie's face.

‘It was such a beautiful day,' he went on. ‘I took Mia down the beach, and we ended up staying there all morning. Then we came back for a nap, then we had to go pick up Riley, and when he got wind we'd been to the beach he was upset that he'd missed out, so I took them both down this afternoon.'

Lexie was beginning to seethe inside. ‘Scott, have you forgotten we've got people coming tomorrow night?'

‘Don't stress,' he said. ‘It'll all get done.'

‘Yeah, because now I'm going to have to do it all tomorrow.'

‘No, you won't. I'll handle it.'

‘How are you going to organise a barbecue and clean this house while you're at the café all day?'

‘I'm not going to be at the café, you are.'

‘What?' she blinked. ‘Look Scott, I never said I wanted to take over full-time, that was your idea. I just wanted us to share a little more of the load.'

‘So, this is sharing,' he shrugged. ‘I was talking to Dad today and they're pouring a slab for his new shed tomorrow. They could use another pair of hands, so I said I'd go round and help.'

Lexie had to physically give her head a shake to take all that in. ‘Why did you say you'd do that when you know we're having a houseful of people over that night?'

‘It's six of us for a barbecue, Lexie, stop making such a big deal about it. I never get to help Dad out, I'm always working. I really want to do this.'

‘Fine, I'll just have to ring everyone and tell them it's off tomorrow night.'

‘Don't be so dramatic, Lex,' he chided. ‘Everything'll get done. I'll be at Dad's for the morning, I'll do the shopping on the way
home, and I'll have the whole afternoon to clean up and get ready.'

‘But just look at this place,' she insisted. ‘Do you realise what has to be done around here? The floors, the kitchen, the shower . . .'

‘No one's going to be taking a shower tomorrow night, Lexie.'

‘But they'll use the bathroom. It still has to be clean.'

‘I don't think it's a priority,' he shrugged. ‘You're going to have to give up some control about the way things are done around here, Lex, if we're going to be “sharing the load”.'

‘So this is how you get back at me?' she said.

‘What do you mean?'

‘You do a really bad job around the house, and I'll give up “interfering” in the café and everything will go back to the way it was.'

‘I don't think I did a really bad job today,' Scott said plainly. ‘I had a fantastic day with my kids, I was there for them one hundred per cent, and not just for the fun stuff. They were fed decent food, Mia had her nap, Riley was picked up from school on time. So the house is a little messy. I don't remember you ever saying that housework should take precedence over the kids.'

‘Of course it doesn't.' Lexie was feeling cornered. ‘But certain things still have to get done.'

‘Lexie, you don't want my input in how you run the café –'

‘I never said that.'

‘Whatever,' he dismissed. ‘You're going to have to accept the way I run things here at home. That's the only way this is going to work.'

‘Fine, you're right,' said Lexie. ‘But I'd rather do the home shift tomorrow, you can go to the café.'

‘Sorry, I'm already committed to helping Dad.'

‘So we're not even going to discuss it?'

He shook his head, walking from the room. ‘There's nothing to discuss.'