I laughed. ‘That would be lovely, except when I go back to work Bill would be on his own all day and then he would be lonely.’
When her face fell, a touch of guilt nagged at me for dousing her hopes. ‘Sorry, sweetie. Maybe Bill can come for a sleepover when Ash and I go next Friday?’
‘Awesome,’ she breathed.
‘And now it really is bedtime. Don’t read for too long.’ I ruffled the top of her head and dropped a quick kiss. ‘Night, Poppy.’
‘Night, Auntie Claire. And thank you for an ace day.’
I could kill Alice for being so careless with her daughters’ love. She hadn’t spoken to them for over a week now. Why hadn’t she called this evening?
Poppy was such a good kid. In some ways, a lot easier than her sister, whose mercurial moods careered between high and low and needed careful management. Ava was the spoiled baby of the family – a little too much like Alice in many ways. I carried the warmth of Poppy’s brilliant smile all the way down the stairs with me and when I got to the bottom, I suddenly found myself looking forward to the week ahead.
Chapter Fourteen
‘Will you stop fussing?’ Hilda rolled her eyes at me as she nursed a cup of coffee from the brand-new Nespresso coffee machine where she sat at my kitchen table which was now covered in a cheerful oil-cloth decorated with chirpy chickens. I was tapping my pencil against my pad.
‘Sorry. It just feels like I’m abdicating my responsibilities by leaving the girls when I’m supposed to be in charge of them.’ Especially as I still couldn’t get hold of Alice. It was now Tuesday and I hadn’t heard a peep out of her. I’d even sent a long email to my parents in desperation, asking them to call her and tell her to ring her daughters.
The planned trip to Tring was just one of the things to arrange on my lengthy list. I was sceptical we’d make it happen or that there would be any real interest but when I’d researched the parkrun website, I’d been staggered by just how big and successful the whole thing was. The more I read, the more impressed I was. There were over one thousand events in twenty-two countries and six million registered runners. My first job was to get permission to use the park, which was already proving tricky but I was prepared to give it a go. That might have been down to post-shopping euphoria this morning.
Honestly, Hilda was costing me a fortune, although my kitchen was much homelier with an initial colour scheme that was nothing like the stylish, sophistication I’d daydreamed of. Following a trip to Dunelm Mill on the outskirts of the town, I was now the owner of a new set of chunky Emma Bridgewater-style china, including a tea pot, utensil pot and a butter dish and six new painted wooden chairs in a soft sage-green which co-ordinated with the chickens on the table cloth. On the seats were padded chair cushions with more chickens and tucked away in the cupboards were various essential baking items including a new electric whisk, bun trays, cookie cutters, and cake tins.
Soft warming colours plus cute poultry wasn’t quite the style I’d envisioned for myself but I’d had a change of heart and realised that cosy was so much more inviting and would be much cheerier to live with. The house was turning into a place in which I wanted to spend time, instead of a place to sleep between office hours. The realisation brought an unwelcome nudge of shame. How had I managed to let my life outside work matter so little?
‘I’ve had my own child and four husbands for goodness’ sake.’ Hilda’s words broke my reverie and I turned back to her. ‘You can trust me with Ava and Poppy. We’re going to have so much fun.’
Maybe it was the fun part that worried me.
‘Four?’ I sipped my coffee and sighed as the rich flavour hit my tongue. Why had I waited so long to get myself a decent coffee machine?
‘Yes, although Frank – he was number three – wasn’t official; we never married but everyone thought we were, until his wife turned up at the funeral. Was a surprise to me too.’ Her greying eyebrows beetled up to her hairline in exaggerated horror. ‘Had one hell of a battle proving that the house was mine. She wanted half. Cheeky madam. I very nearly deeded the house to my son so she couldn’t get her mitts on it. Glad I didn’t now. He’d have sold it and put me in a home years ago. I’d have died of boredom long before now.’
‘How old is your son?’ I asked, curiosity getting the better of me. She never talked about him.
‘He’s nearly forty-six. I had him quite late. Now, husband number two, he was interesting.’ She grinned like a mischievous imp. ‘Not as handsome as my first but a lot more fun. Actually, quite naughty as it turned out. He ran an antiques business but I heard, a few years after he died, mind, that he’d had a thriving side-line in forgery. Good job I sold the Monet before that came out.’
I blinked but she blithely carried on, so I guessed she was joking.
‘I got it in the divorce settlement. This really is very good coffee.’ She rose and began putting a fresh capsule in the machine.
‘I thought you weren’t supposed to have coffee. I don’t want to be responsible for making you ill.’
‘Oh, pish. Do I look unwell? They do fuss so at the old people’s home. Why do you think I spend so much time in the park?’ She patted her hair. ‘Although, I ought to go to the hairdresser’s before I pick the girls up from school on Friday. I don’t want anyone thinking you’ve left them with some batty old lady.’
I laughed. ‘It’s going to take more than a set and blow dry to convince anyone.’
‘You’re probably right, dear.’ Her smile was placid. ‘I’ll wear my best tracksuit. The white one with the red go-faster stripes down the side.’
‘I don’t think I’ve seen that one.’
‘No, probably not. I save it for special occasions.’
I bit my lips trying to suppress a giggle as my mind goggled at what sort of special occasion merited an Adidas-style tracksuit.
‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ Ash and I were heading off mid-morning on Friday – his idea – to beat the worst of the traffic. It made sense but it meant spending more time with him, which had given me a few sleepless hours last night as I’d be leaving the girls with Hilda for a whole twenty-four hours. We were unlikely to get back before mid-afternoon on the Saturday. That was a lot of time to spend with someone you’d once slept with when the two of you were pretending it had never happened. The bloody sod owed me an explanation.
‘We’re going to have a lovely time. Lots of baking. Now, how are you getting on with the council and whether we can use the park?’
‘Going round in circles,’ I groaned. ‘It’s nuts. I spent yesterday on the phone. You can’t actually speak to a real live person. All you get is press one for this and two for that, which is fine but none of them fit what I want and then the flipping thing goes dead. And I’ve tried online and sent various emails and no one has got back to me yet.’ Now that I had identified specific tasks, I was focused on achieving those rather than worrying about whether the whole project was actually viable. At least I could show Hilda I was doing something even if I wasn’t convinced it would ever come to anything.